tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13511655431407374932024-02-02T21:36:30.429+00:00The Way She WritesLost in a world filled with wordsHelena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.comBlogger180125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-3069967274012133802022-12-21T07:00:00.001+00:002022-12-21T07:00:00.151+00:00The Rainbow Advent Calendar - Yule Be Back<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzikDb3vO0kt3IH1CP6rapSLgBzgfsby5xd2petozg-MWhSeCDvaPjzQtf0uHlNogsIXv6DV-hn62VHq-eOfWMjr-MOR3vW1jDTchN1L5Q_byrmES-CNi5OW-6dOHMIE9zfiKGvugG7yhSEYicr2NNiSX3-56dtzcLhIgh51MCobgaOiiF3kF5AFkjtw/s900/RACN22%20-21a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="900" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzikDb3vO0kt3IH1CP6rapSLgBzgfsby5xd2petozg-MWhSeCDvaPjzQtf0uHlNogsIXv6DV-hn62VHq-eOfWMjr-MOR3vW1jDTchN1L5Q_byrmES-CNi5OW-6dOHMIE9zfiKGvugG7yhSEYicr2NNiSX3-56dtzcLhIgh51MCobgaOiiF3kF5AFkjtw/w400-h219/RACN22%20-21a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s the time of year for candles,
fairy lights, mistletoe, and Advent calendars.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">These days we are spoiled for choice
when it comes to advent calendars, but my favourite is the Rainbow Advent
Calendar.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Rainbow Advent Calendar as
invented and managed by the amazing Alex Jane, is an annual event where a large
group of LGBTQ+ writers share a new and <b>FREE</b> story. This year there are
two windows to open—or, two new <b>FREE</b> reads to discover—most days. If you
haven’t taken part so far, you can check out the </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1673039336093815" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;"><b>Facebook group</b></span></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"> or go to the <a href="http://alexjane.info/rainbow-advent-calendar-2022/?fbclid=IwAR2me0n6okRCITmSwnYFTo8VLsRifn20rRWGPcAl_t6cA6WgTRgRU9fv68M" target="_blank"><b>masterlist</b></a>, where you can find links for all the posts so
far – and those still to come. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first door to open today
revealed… Yours truly!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">What do I have for you?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1l_Lb5Vj-Pb_9Cd9uxzOF-e_MX7xdTaPqhCykiH4N5uOqFeQV14Oazt3zyZQ4mCKVt1feompNoOwEWStYi38flf7cyC5DWf2k1Aje9a2YXTCE3OGNfFIIRT125GECWZ76dK0kcpwQXCxDlkJvT0b8KnfvPnK5Ku03ygGS104h36ShvAMRN_Izy8xeBA/s800/Yule%20Be%20Back.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1l_Lb5Vj-Pb_9Cd9uxzOF-e_MX7xdTaPqhCykiH4N5uOqFeQV14Oazt3zyZQ4mCKVt1feompNoOwEWStYi38flf7cyC5DWf2k1Aje9a2YXTCE3OGNfFIIRT125GECWZ76dK0kcpwQXCxDlkJvT0b8KnfvPnK5Ku03ygGS104h36ShvAMRN_Izy8xeBA/w256-h400/Yule%20Be%20Back.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;">A never before published story that
was long enough to turn it into an e-book you can download from Prolific Works.
There’s no requirement to sign up for a newsletter or anything else, so…help
yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">Download link: </span><a href="https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/BVAnSxSA" style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/BVAnSxSA</a></b></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yule Be Back</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;">Two
decades after we first met, will the connection still be there?</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;"> </span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;">Twenty-three
years ago, I visited a local Christmas market and met the man of my dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">We clicked
from the moment we met and spent three magical weeks together.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">When my job
took me away, I lost Killian and any future the two of us might have had.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I’m
back.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wonder if
Killian is still in town. If he still runs his market stall. If he’s still as
attractive as he was then.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">And if he
is, will he remember me?</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;">Does that sound like something you
might like? <b>Get your e-book here: <a href="https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/BVAnSxSA">https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/BVAnSxSA</a></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgte2MPQz-mJgA92fSJ4z-ARsRaRJJTUp2uHVeTLuXnXcOV3KxXYsJE75QYf1CyGGvjc64BJ3avNlK372nfpLSBJerZM4Caq7EO5RG4t4QmzxjYEKUNy8flHY7NQjKalxNu-1CBTpkyYYfU3ASsWdtGNv0JDP0ZJWClvn9tqLAd2rJKshb2FOuBNs-7rA/s2000/Depositphotos_31841857_l-2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1554" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgte2MPQz-mJgA92fSJ4z-ARsRaRJJTUp2uHVeTLuXnXcOV3KxXYsJE75QYf1CyGGvjc64BJ3avNlK372nfpLSBJerZM4Caq7EO5RG4t4QmzxjYEKUNy8flHY7NQjKalxNu-1CBTpkyYYfU3ASsWdtGNv0JDP0ZJWClvn9tqLAd2rJKshb2FOuBNs-7rA/s320/Depositphotos_31841857_l-2015.jpg" width="249" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif;">I wish you a wonderful time over the
holiday period and send the very best wishes for an awesome New Year.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy Reading!</span></p>Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-57402566689861799362021-12-14T20:26:00.000+00:002021-12-14T20:26:12.962+00:00Drawing Forever (A Podlington Village Romance #7)<p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Clearly, it is either a feast or a famine when it comes to my book releases and we've entered a festive part of my writing career. 😉</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Just over a month after announcing the release of <b>Picture Perfect</b>, I'm delighted to introduce you to <b>Drawing Forever</b>.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYj2IyWY4o5bthJIiFKeYBPL44l98jNvKDCzB2xkDhOEY9Qxugs852lA-3zJ4RrxHA2AUjIKtKhkaLNTECeqYt1WnuJ3tyaeP6j0At7y-gYuQywxHctaNHEgfwDIkyhIh6DorlHiQzk8cEN21wa85YkBNNGl-pBtoOxggSNzB1s8bOWtkn_cPQkV3xUA=s900" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="563" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYj2IyWY4o5bthJIiFKeYBPL44l98jNvKDCzB2xkDhOEY9Qxugs852lA-3zJ4RrxHA2AUjIKtKhkaLNTECeqYt1WnuJ3tyaeP6j0At7y-gYuQywxHctaNHEgfwDIkyhIh6DorlHiQzk8cEN21wa85YkBNNGl-pBtoOxggSNzB1s8bOWtkn_cPQkV3xUA=w250-h400" width="250" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i>I’m
hiding from the past, he’s looking for a future. Could it be with me?</i></b><b><span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Two years ago, Rob Master fled his old life and
started from scratch in Podlington, determined not to repeat past mistakes.
People can’t hurt him with facts they don’t know, so he keeps his attraction to
men and his love of drawing a closely guarded secret. People see him as the
stand-offish barman in The Miracle of Magic, and that suits him just fine.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">After years as a successful model in the glamour
industry in America, Darren Grant is more than ready for a change. The problem
is that he has no qualifications. An extended holiday to Podlington in England
might just bring him the clarity to figure out a way forward.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Rob is shy and withdrawn, Darren outgoing and edgy.
Despite the differences, the attraction between them is undeniable. But even
after Darren volunteers to help with the organisation of the Podlington Art
Fest, there’s an end date to his stay in England. Are Rob’s first chance at
love and Darren’s hopes for a new future doomed, or will Podlington provide the
miracle they need to draw a future...together?</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 150%;"><i><span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to Podlington!
The fictional English village where magic happens and dreams come true. This
LGBTQ+ opposites attract story is part of the Podlington Village Romance series
and can be read as a standalone novel. Drawing Forever features a shy barman,
an outgoing glamour model, numerous pillows and cushions, a dash of
serendipity, and a guaranteed happy ending.</span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica;">53k
words</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica;">Buy Link: </span><a href="http://mybook.to/DrawingForever" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="background: white; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">http://mybook.to/DrawingForever</span></a></b></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 150%;"><b style="color: #333333; font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Excerpt</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Darren
returned to his room in Podlington House hours later. Eli and Cameron had been
wonderful hosts, and the Indian restaurant where they’d treated him to dinner
had been amazing. Darren had been cynical when he’d seen that the place claimed
to blend influences from across the Indian continent to come up with unique
recipes, convinced all eateries made the same claim. But he’d been very
pleasantly surprised and had to admit he’d never tasted anything quite like the
dishes they’d served and certainly nothing better.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">As
he looked at his inviting bed, exhaustion washed over him. Between jet lag and
trying to stop Eli and Cameron from delving into his reasons for coming to
England, Darren’s mind and body were ready to give up.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">He took a few minutes to transfer several of the pillows from the couch and chairs to his large double bed, where he created a nest. With a sigh, he sank into the soft cocoon, closed his eyes, and drifted off into a dream about a young man with thick black hair and a scowl distorting his pretty face.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">******</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica;">You may have noticed that Picture Perfect was #1 in the series and Drawing Forever is book #7. No, I didn't forget to announce the release of five other titles. The reason I haven't posted about those other books is that they weren't written by me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica;">As I mentioned before, the Podlington Village Romance series is the result of a partnership between Alex Jane, Helen J. Perry, Riza Curtis, and me. And this is what the four Season II books look like together:</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 24px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRP-d8p7yhJiEx50-gUpZIzCB-kTgOtKsCr4bhV799LYTIyR5LH89J1l-1Ah3yF86kyD8pQzzPRXwdXYK92uivzuMIIxb6DSvu-82GxaPipGBwq7_coP7OZzWv4Rs2t20UTID4jiI08aVvKEwTK-ALbwSGsEOmx4lJJfKCG3QWhmji00_etmj4VLCrsg=s1200" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="457" data-original-width="1200" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRP-d8p7yhJiEx50-gUpZIzCB-kTgOtKsCr4bhV799LYTIyR5LH89J1l-1Ah3yF86kyD8pQzzPRXwdXYK92uivzuMIIxb6DSvu-82GxaPipGBwq7_coP7OZzWv4Rs2t20UTID4jiI08aVvKEwTK-ALbwSGsEOmx4lJJfKCG3QWhmji00_etmj4VLCrsg=w400-h153" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">All eight Podlington titles are available to be read in Kindle Unlimited and can be found here: </span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 24px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09JHGDRR2"><b>https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09JHGDRR2</b></a></span></p><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-90358483628098576652021-10-12T16:08:00.001+01:002021-10-17T21:08:26.696+01:00Picture Perfect (A Podlington Village Romance #1)<p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> <span face="Arial, sans-serif">It has
been a while. In fact, it has been too long, but at last I can announce the
release of a new romance. Feast your eyes on </span><b>Picture Perfect</b><span face="Arial, sans-serif">.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsPxyeyMaBZEF0AmTnsOlYW-CBAOTNPKn1pUmbXc2_3XUI0nj4SWiYaCz7-MtZOPwFS8hI6be7wafsxiHA5sg0O5sNgyIeVe5N8555z061SpcfScAgniwwjfTCg94jfNUDMunR237BDxP/s900/E900-Pod-cover-HS-S1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="576" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsPxyeyMaBZEF0AmTnsOlYW-CBAOTNPKn1pUmbXc2_3XUI0nj4SWiYaCz7-MtZOPwFS8hI6be7wafsxiHA5sg0O5sNgyIeVe5N8555z061SpcfScAgniwwjfTCg94jfNUDMunR237BDxP/w410-h640/E900-Pod-cover-HS-S1.jpg" width="410" /></span></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt;">52k words / 204 pages</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt;">Release Date: October 15, 2021</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Universal buy link: </span></b><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://mybook.to/PodlingtonPP"><b><span style="color: #1155cc;">http://mybook.to/PodlingtonPP</span></b></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Also available in Kindle Unlimited<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 13.5pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><b><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Blurb</span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><b><i><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">After all the pornstars and glamour models will he
even still remember me?</span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt;">The last thing Cameron Porter expects when he
checks in to Podlington House is to come face to face with reminders of the
three-week fling he had eight years ago with a young photographer named Eli.
But there the enticing image is, hanging over his bed, and that is just one of
many coincidences to bring back memories of the man he foolishly refused to
stay in touch with.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt;">Eli Comerford stumbles on Podlington House by
accident while on a break from his successful career in America. The sudden
images of Cameron, his first real lover and the man he never managed to
completely forget are disconcerting though.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt;">When they discover they’re staying in the same
place, the attraction is as strong as ever, but so are the obstacles between
them and a relationship. Eli is still located in the US and Cameron in England.
Are they embarking on a second holiday fling or can Podlington work its magic
and grant them a picture perfect future…together?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Welcome to Podlington! The fictional English
village where magic happens and dreams come true. This LGBTQ+ Second Chance
story is part of the Podlington Village Romance series and can be read as a
standalone novel. Picture Perfect features a happy-go-lucky photographer, a
stuffy academic, a myriad of coincidences, and a guaranteed happy ending.</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt;">The Podlington Village Romances series is written
in British English and includes at least one non-binary character. Therefore
they/them is sometimes correctly used as a singular pronoun.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><b style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><b style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Excerpt</span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The pond, although its size meant it could easily be called a small
artificial lake, was even more stunning up close than it had been from a
distance. Big islands of water lilies floated in various spots, pink and white
flowers blooming from the large green leaves. Other sections were plant-ree,
the sunlight sparkling on the surface, creating a magical atmosphere.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Cameron walked up to the edge of the water, not stopping until his toes
were mere inches away from getting wet. Eli couldn’t stop himself. He pulled
the strap of his camera over his head and placed his Canon on a table a few
feet away. He crept up behind Cameron and grabbed him by the biceps, making a
forward motion as if he was trying to push him in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Flinging up both arms, Cameron reacted so suddenly and violently he
dislodged Eli’s grip and tumbled forward, falling into the water with his hands
outstretched to catch himself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Rooted to the spot and not sure what had just happened, Eli was torn
between laughing and making a run for it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When Cameron lifted his head from the water, sputtering, laughter won.
The sight was hilarious, even if Cameron didn’t seem to appreciate it. The
indignation in Cameron’s eyes, combined with his glasses sitting crooked on his
nose and his usually meticulously groomed hair falling over his forehead, was
too much for Eli’s powers of restraint.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Very funny,” Cameron growled. “What did you do that for?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eli did his best to curtail his laughter, but it still took him several
moments before he calmed down enough to answer the question. “I’m sorry. I…” A
few chuckles escaped Eli before he got himself under control again. “I didn’t
mean for you to end up in the water. I just wanted to startle you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Consider me startled,” Cameron grumbled. He raised himself until he
knelt in the water and held out his hand. “Here, help me out, will you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eli didn’t think about it twice and wrapped his fingers around Cameron’s
wrist. It wasn’t until he felt the sharp pull and found himself tumbling
towards the water that he realised he should have seen this turn of events
coming.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“There. See how you like it.” Cameron half grinned, half glared at him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: center; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">*****<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: left;"><b style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Picture Perfect</span></b><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"> takes place in Podlington, a picturesque village in Somerset, England, and is part of a collaboration between Alex Jane, H J Perry, Riza Curtis, and Me. You can take a look at all four books here: </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Amazon Series page: </span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="http://mybook.to/PodlingtonSeries1"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">http://mybook.to/PodlingtonSeries1</span></a></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><b>Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/series/328619"><span style="color: #1155cc;">https://www.goodreads.com/series/328619</span></a></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ1DsWla0Qa7iWe0ff5wS4HR-FLcBl1n-JrFa6pIxkWgt4HpNOwADzW35rFEkuarwVcSKB11dpfSPrzQWwf71ggErDemA3Bcpo8Xrv9YFhAncOR80fqBlTvZHj9fZGthqizq3TdyXXbS_d/s1200/BookBrushImage-2021-10-7-21-4457.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><img border="0" data-original-height="457" data-original-width="1200" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ1DsWla0Qa7iWe0ff5wS4HR-FLcBl1n-JrFa6pIxkWgt4HpNOwADzW35rFEkuarwVcSKB11dpfSPrzQWwf71ggErDemA3Bcpo8Xrv9YFhAncOR80fqBlTvZHj9fZGthqizq3TdyXXbS_d/w492-h171/BookBrushImage-2021-10-7-21-4457.jpg" width="492" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt; margin: 12pt 0cm 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><br /></p>Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-64769240028129797912019-12-09T17:30:00.000+00:002019-12-09T17:30:01.382+00:00Rainbow Advent Calendar 2019: Once Upon a Gingerbread Reindeer<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhWhpcbE627b3MOEIbSrVL-t6UD1WJ_tDMeABbpCVP0wOIwJaW8pvfh1Rkh8UtZkNnqNvnRfdDmaJ9rM9Hi5v9JHFtwvoqvAvXFiXi2Td8eqi3Cx4uToJJ0zAjA_tDcvOGYfln4aDnOJlX/s1600/RACcard2019+-+9a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="900" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhWhpcbE627b3MOEIbSrVL-t6UD1WJ_tDMeABbpCVP0wOIwJaW8pvfh1Rkh8UtZkNnqNvnRfdDmaJ9rM9Hi5v9JHFtwvoqvAvXFiXi2Td8eqi3Cx4uToJJ0zAjA_tDcvOGYfln4aDnOJlX/s400/RACcard2019+-+9a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I hope you’re all enjoying the
Rainbow Advent Calendar and have been busy getting all the free stories that
have already gone up. With two stories becoming available most days, there will
be almost 50 new reads for you between now and Christmas Day. If you haven’t
joined the event yet, please make your way to the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowAdventCalendar/" target="_blank"><b><span style="background: white; border: none 1.0pt; color: #7030a0; padding: 0cm;">Facebook group</span></b></a></span><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> to find the already available
stories and get updates the moment each subsequent story goes live! If you
prefer to steer clear of Facebook, you can bookmark </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://alexjane.info/rainbow-advent-calendar-2019/" target="_blank"><strong><span style="background: white; border: none 1.0pt; color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; padding: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">THIS
LINK</span></strong></a></span><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #373737;">, which will take
you to the website of </span><b><span style="color: #674ea7;">Alex Jane</span></b><span style="color: #373737;">, our amazing ‘leader’, and inform you about each new
story as they are posted.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #373737;"><br /></span></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #373737;">Talking about new stories.....</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrO3K8g0hjgF2W2cVfcvvN171JcY1__uwnV20FJZZTOHf6yrwmUybiPdIBPm28iGxzV8AOdy86Beh2TKMc_eGOZ1_wVoScqRqGGgZSC_H8t3XS8wfuo8QGh3LEco2leMJ0nYQgIn0Rh02H/s1600/Gingerbread_Reindeer_Fin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrO3K8g0hjgF2W2cVfcvvN171JcY1__uwnV20FJZZTOHf6yrwmUybiPdIBPm28iGxzV8AOdy86Beh2TKMc_eGOZ1_wVoScqRqGGgZSC_H8t3XS8wfuo8QGh3LEco2leMJ0nYQgIn0Rh02H/s640/Gingerbread_Reindeer_Fin.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Blurb</span></span></b></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Jacob<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I know it doesn’t make sense for a professional storyteller to have an
aversion to social events, but I prefer my own company to spending time with
others. And don’t get me started about relationships and love. I’ve learned my
lesson and have no intention of putting my heart and peace of mind on the line
again. If others want to travel that road, good luck to them, but I’m perfectly
happy on my own, thank you very much. All of which makes my attraction to the
gorgeous baker I just met all the more confusing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Dylan<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">As a baker, I have a passion for my craft and love seeing smiles on my
customers faces when they buy my treats. If I have one regret it’s that the
hours of my profession make having a social life all but impossible. However,
my busy schedule doesn’t stop me from joining in a charity Christmas Party or
from being intrigued by the grumpy storyteller who is also taking part. Despite
his reluctance, I’m convinced there is something between us worth exploring. If
only I can persuade him to stop running away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Once Upon a Gingerbread Reindeer</span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">
is a stand-alone romance, loosely connected to the Valentine’s Day Series,
featuring a grumpy storyteller with commitment issues, a happy-go-lucky baker
ready for love, irresistible sweet treats, a Christmas party for the homeless,
and the magical power of stories. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Hlk26114007"></a><a href="https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/kNN3jU6f"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk26114007;"><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Please
click this link to download Once Upon a Gingerbread Reindeer</span></b></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk26114007;"></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk26114007;"></span><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt </span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Twenty minutes
later, when I boarded the bus that would bring me to Monkstown, I was in a
better mood than I’d been before Ben’s summons. I preferred my own company most
of the time, something which bemused the few friends I had. I guessed they had
a point. As a professional storyteller, I had no choice but to interact with
others almost daily, and the astonishing fact was that I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Maybe the loud and often borderline crazy state of my days made me treasure my
quiet nights and weekends so much. There was a limit to the amount of
socializing I could put up with, and my job—much as I loved it—put me
perilously close to that point. Now that the decision had been made, I looked
forward to spending time with two good friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The bus came to
a halt, and I checked to see where on the route we were as people alighted and
boarded. I counted myself lucky that the timing of Ben’s invitation meant most
of the rush hour madness had ended. When I turned away from the window, I
noticed a man had taken the seat opposite me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A very
attractive man.</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As soon as the
thought hit me, I wanted to look away, only to find myself frozen by his open
appraisal of me. For a moment, he stared straight at me, little laughter lines
forming next to his light brown eyes. Then his gaze moved to take in my face,
my upper body, and, finally, my jeans-clad legs. There was something intimate
about his perusal of me, something that made me both excited and uncomfortable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I allowed
myself to follow his example, taking in his bald head, his wide shoulders, and
the brown duffle coat he wore. His hands lay on a large white carton box on his
lap, his fingers long, and… I blinked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">If there’d been
any doubt whether his stare indicated interest, the rainbow-colored bracelet
around his wrist removed it. The discovery made me wonder, though. Various
people had told me in the past that my appearance was such that I could, if I
wanted to, fly under anybody’s gaydar. Either the stranger opposite me was a
very brave risk-taker, or his instincts were better than most.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He raised his
hand, and like a mesmerized fool, I followed the movement until I found myself
staring into his eyes, which twinkled with merriment. When the corners of my
mouth inched upward as if some part of me wanted to smile back at him, I turned
my head to the window and focused on the scenery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What is wrong
with me?</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I didn’t
flirt, ever. The last time I’d gone through that rigmarole, I was still in
college. These days, when I wanted to relieve some stress, I turned to my phone
and the apps that had been created exactly for that purpose. Minimal
interactions followed by maximum release worked just fine for me, especially
since such hookups didn’t lead to complicated conversations after the act.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The streets we
passed as the bus neared Monkstown were wall-to-wall Christmas. Decorations in
gardens, lights in windows, and extravagantly decorated shopfronts all reminded
me that only three weeks separated me from that day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This time I
didn’t try to hide my smile. I loved Christmas. Not for the same reason most
other people did. It wasn’t getting together with friends and family I looked
forward to, or even a lavish roast dinner. For me, the joy of Christmas stemmed
from it being the easiest time of year to enjoy total isolation. My gigs would
pause for ten days, and I could just adjourn to the privacy of my apartment
without worrying about unexpected visitors or other engagements.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As the bus
approached my destination, I got up and moved to the exit, only mildly surprised
when Flirty Box Guy did the same. It was that sort of a day, where nothing
happened according to plan, and the universe appeared to be laughing at me.
When my admirer turned left toward a line of shops, I stared after him for a
few long moments. It had been a while since anybody had managed to attract my
attention, and while I wasn’t inclined to act on it or to ask myself why, I
refused to deny myself the pleasure of memorizing his fine figure and imagining
what he might look like without clothes. Who knew? I might even put him in one
of my stories. I chuckled softly. Such a tale would be reserved for an adults-only
event.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/kNN3jU6f"><span style="color: #7030a0;">Please
click this link to download Once Upon a Gingerbread Reindeer</span></a></span></b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinF8hTsrE49twpgcZGfDBeM1XmBeiMivP8TKdOf0Lodcfahtp5QvfDKcwQ__sCM6lTgSTsZOO6WMDMGgToUBB_GM6qyiAsQf6m4QBL4oaFZRWeYGPur9PK4OHcRD51oVwhWX54etRst5tK/s1600/Rainbow_Advent_Event.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="900" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinF8hTsrE49twpgcZGfDBeM1XmBeiMivP8TKdOf0Lodcfahtp5QvfDKcwQ__sCM6lTgSTsZOO6WMDMGgToUBB_GM6qyiAsQf6m4QBL4oaFZRWeYGPur9PK4OHcRD51oVwhWX54etRst5tK/s400/Rainbow_Advent_Event.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; border: none 1.0pt; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; padding: 0cm;">If this year’s
collection doesn’t give you enough to read, you can check the stories made
available in the past through the following links:</span></strong></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://alexjane.info/rainbow-advent-calendar-2018/" target="_blank"><strong><span style="background: white; border: none 1.0pt; color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; padding: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">2018</span></strong></a></span><strong><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; border: none 1.0pt; color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; padding: 0cm;"> | </span></strong><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://alexjane.info/rainbow-advent-calendar-2017/" target="_blank"><b><span style="background: white; border: none 1.0pt; color: #7030a0; padding: 0cm;">2017</span></b></a></span><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My chosen charitiy is </span><b><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #7030a0; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.belongto.org/"><span style="color: #7030a0;">BeLonG To</span></a></span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">, t</span><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">he national organisation for lesbian, gay, bisexual &
trans young people aged 14 - 23 in Ireland.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #373737;">If you want to check out my other
Christmas stories, you can find them by clicking on the titles below. </span><b style="color: #373737;"><i>Christmas on Adelaide Road</i></b><span style="color: #373737;"> is another </span><b><span style="color: #674ea7;">FREEBIE</span></b><span style="color: #373737;">. And keep an eye out for an announcement about the final novella in the Mitch & Cian series, coming your way before the end of the year.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://mybook.to/AMITL">A Miracle in the Library</a> | <a href="http://mybook.to/TooHot">Too Hot for Santa</a> | <a href="https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/RXb9BQWq">Christmas on Adelaide
Road</a></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-39015130992183004842019-12-05T08:00:00.000+00:002019-12-05T11:45:27.419+00:00Santa Claus but different – Sinterklaas<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrhahyPfe5AnUAeprd_yVMCT910bjnY0H0E76SJKUwuWcfppNt8y1kiSgqPC4j2nAEnoQwIAf1iWs-EDhN2DDuc57TzmedqmxcTcWDr2tEamUe3ITeDLRYHpGwz0lNgkhvEMrMTejXfE1/s1600/Sint1_Depositphotos_81225372_l-2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrhahyPfe5AnUAeprd_yVMCT910bjnY0H0E76SJKUwuWcfppNt8y1kiSgqPC4j2nAEnoQwIAf1iWs-EDhN2DDuc57TzmedqmxcTcWDr2tEamUe3ITeDLRYHpGwz0lNgkhvEMrMTejXfE1/s320/Sint1_Depositphotos_81225372_l-2015.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">As many of us are getting ready to
celebrate Christmas and all its traditions, I’d like to focus on one of them in
specific: Santa Claus. I’m taking a bit of a detour, however, since I won’t be
talking about the jolly man from the North Pole we’re all familiar with but about
his Dutch ‘cousin’, named Sinterklaas.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">But first a short history lesson.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The legend of Santa Claus can be traced
back to the third century AD and a man known as Saint Nicholas who lived in
Turkey. There are many stories about his good deeds, and he became known as the
protector of children and sailors. His feast day is celebrated on the
anniversary of his death, December 6<sup>th</sup>. He was (and, in his various
incarnations, probably still is) the most popular saint in Europe, especially
in the Netherlands.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Which brings me neatly to Sinterklaas.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">As you can see above, the Dutch version
of the present-giving saint and specifically his clothes still strongly
resemble those of someone high up in the church’s hierarchy. What else is
different about Sinterklaas you ask? Well, for starters, children in the
Netherlands get their presents on December 5</span><sup><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">th</span></sup><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">,</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> and traditionally those would be
dropped into or near shoes, which children would leave by the fireplace. Quite
a few traditional Sinterklaas songs tell about leaving your shoe out and hoping
for a present.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Sinterklaas is HUGE in the Netherlands.
In fact, his arrival into the country—from Spain, by boat—is broadcast live on
television every year. Don’t ask me why he comes from Spain or why he arrives
by boat; I have absolutely no idea.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">As this picture shows, Sinterklaas has
helpers who go by the name of ‘Zwarte Piet’ (Black Pete). And yes,
traditionally those were white people whose faces had been blackened. Why
Sinterklaas’s helpers would be black isn’t entirely clear either. It’s not
impossible that since the holy man (yes, that is how Sinterklaas is sometimes
referred to) comes from Spain, he had Moors as helpers. It is just as likely
that his helpers are black because they enter and leave houses through the
chimneys when they deliver presents.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">As you can imagine, these days most
people frown upon that custom, and an alternative has been arrived at. Pete now
only has a few soot smudges on his cheeks or isn’t blackened at all.
Unfortunately, not everybody thinks it’s a good idea to change the tradition a
little to get away from what is clearly an unthinking, hurtful, and
discriminatory practice. As a result, the past few years have brought scenes
where the arrival of Sinterklaas was spoiled by protests and counterprotests.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Another uniquely Sinterklaas thing is
that in order to deliver the presents, he travels over the roofs on horseback.
All children know he keeps notes on their behaviour in a big red book. In the
past, kids were told that if they were very bad, Black Pete would put them in
their sack and bring them back to Spain. Thankfully, that last frightening part
of the tradition has been successfully abandoned for many, many years now.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">But what I love and miss most about
Sinterklaas is that the celebration often is about more than ‘just’ giving and
receiving presents. The Dutch have expanded on the ‘normal’ exchange in two
ways.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">First of all, there’s something called
‘de Surprise, which literally translates as ‘the surprise’ but means a bit
more. The idea is that you hide the actual present inside a creation that
somehow depicts the recipient. For example, if I were to give one of you a
present, I might put it inside a large book crafted out of cardboard.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The second addition to the gift would
be a poem. And if the giver/poet had any talent and some time on their hands,
the rhyme would describe both the recipient and the gift they were about to
receive.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The following is my (very bad) attempt
at an example of such a poem in English, but I think it gives you an idea.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><b><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Sinterklaas has been thinking long and
hard</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></i></div>
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<i><b><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">What to buy someone so smart.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></i></div>
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<i><b><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He knows full well you’re always
reading</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></i></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 13.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<i><b><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">And has no idea which book you might be
needing.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></i></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 13.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<i><b><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">He talked it over with his helper Piet</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></i></div>
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<i><b><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">(who also has been known to read)</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></i></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 13.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<i><b><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">My smart assistant said, while laughing
with glee</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><i><b>What those readers need is fifty
stories, new and FREE.</b></i></span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">There's a lot more I could tell you
about December 5th in the Netherlands. I haven't even touched on the various
sweet treats and chocolate letters. But I think this post is long enough now,
so I'm leaving it here.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Whatever you are celebrating this
month, I wish you a wonderful and peaceful time, hopefully including a surprise
or two.</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Happy Sinterklaas!</span><span lang="EN-IE" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-3422988210043072022019-10-18T19:30:00.000+01:002019-10-18T19:30:05.242+01:00Ukuleles & Scrums (Mitch & Cian #4) OUT NOW!!!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbXtJS9D45wAxnF7NvBMfF3za5Wb3cFbTrD7V-qmGluum0z1pEIBgW4aE3Iqsy_LtZJ9DC3ZCh0bMN9MCxrrN7bCyb5iZRYNpdVdnzcW5tXZX0bMVwkHtjwkmOurloPflGj0BHUkflI-j-/s1600/Ukuleles+%2526+Scrums.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbXtJS9D45wAxnF7NvBMfF3za5Wb3cFbTrD7V-qmGluum0z1pEIBgW4aE3Iqsy_LtZJ9DC3ZCh0bMN9MCxrrN7bCyb5iZRYNpdVdnzcW5tXZX0bMVwkHtjwkmOurloPflGj0BHUkflI-j-/s640/Ukuleles+%2526+Scrums.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Buy links: <span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/meent/Documents/My%20Writings/Mitch%20&%20Cian/Mitch%20&%20Cian%20%234/mybook.to/Ukes"><b><span lang="EN-GB">Universal</span></b></a></span><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"> | </span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07YRTTJQP"><b><span lang="EN-GB">Amazon US</span></b></a></span><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"> | </span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07YRTTJQP">Amazon UK</a></span></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Available to read with Kindle Unlimited</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Also available as a paperback</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Blurb</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Falling in
love is easy. Building a life together takes more work.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Nine months after getting together, Mitch
and Cian are studying in Dublin and sharing an apartment. For both, this is a
dream come true and even boring household chores become fun when they do them
side by side.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tensions arise after Cian joins an
inclusive rugby club and Mitch a ukulele orchestra. Insecurities, jealousy, and
lack of relationship-experience soon lead to resentment, and each struggles to
balance romance with their individual interests. After Cian and Mitch accept
separate invitations to Halloween parties, hoping the other will accompany
them, their doubts grow. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Will All Hallows’ Eve drive a wedge
between them or could there be another miracle in the making?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ukuleles and
Scrums is the fourth novella in the Mitch & Cian series. While it could,
possibly, be read as a stand-alone story, the reader will enjoy it more if they
read <b>A Miracle in the Library</b>, <b>Lessons in Love</b>, and <b>Pride of
Place first</b>.</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">*****</span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Happy Release Day to <b><i>Ukuleles & Scrums</i></b>. When I wrote <b><i>A Miracle in the Library</i></b> last year, </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I thought I'd written a charming Christmas story and that would be the end of it. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I had no idea it would be the start of a year-long journey. .</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Little did I know Mitch and Cian had different plans. They weren't happy they only got to share a few kisses and told me that it was only fair to tell more of their story, if only because it would mean they'd get to know each other better - in all sorts of ways. 😉</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So, here I am, almost a year later, bringing you the fourth installment of their journey together. And boy has it been a journey. These two have done some growing up over the past ten months, as this, not entirely safe for work, excerpt clearly shows.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Excerpt</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Can’t find what you’re looking for?” he asked, not
trying to hide his amusement.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cian glanced up at Mitch, inspected his surroundings,
and had the grace to grimace and flush. “Sorry about that. I’ll fix it in a
min.” He glared at the various items of clothing on the floor, then bent and
picked something up. “Gottcha.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“What’s that?” Mitch squinted at the item consisting
more of connected bands of material than solid pieces. He thought he recognized
it but didn’t want to hazard a guess and make a fool of himself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> “A jockstrap.”
Cian slung one strap over his index finger and swung the piece of underwear
around.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Jockstrap, hey?” Excitement heated Mitch’s blood. “I
can’t say I’ve ever seen one of those up close and personal.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cian glanced at him, his gaze intense. “I’ll be right
back.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mitch watched, bemused, as Cian hurried into the
bathroom. When Cian returned, moments later, Mitch’s bemusement turned into pure,
hot lust when he noticed how well the jock’s pouch encased Cian’s package.
“Nice.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cian turned on the spot, giving Mitch his first sight
of Cian’s bare arse, framed by black straps.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Very nice.” Mitch didn’t try to hide the heat in his
voice. He approached Cian, who had come full circle and faced him again. Wrapping
his arms around Cian’s middle, he grabbed both cheeks with his hands and squeezed.
“Is there a rule saying you can only wear this when you’re on the field?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cian chuckled. “I guess you’re on board with the rugby
idea, then?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Doubts and fears tried to worm their way back into
Mitch’s thoughts, but he shrugged them off, concentrating on the familiar and
wholly enticing feel of Cian’s naked butt. Pressing closer to his boyfriend, he
smiled as the hard bulge of Cian’s erection pressed into his tummy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“I’m never going to complain about seeing or feeling
more of your arse,” he muttered, very aware of his own rock-hard cock tenting
the material of his loose trousers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“I created a monster,” Cian said before claiming
Mitch’s mouth in a heated kiss. He pushed him backward until they tumbled to
the bed, their lips never losing contact. Two soft thuds indicated the two bags
had bounced off the bed, but Mitch barely registered the noise, too lost in
Cian’s mouth and the hungry interaction between their tongues.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“You’re overdressed,” Cian murmured before hurriedly
removing Mitch’s clothes. He tugged on his dick, and Mitch lost himself in
Cian’s body. As white-hot need rushed through his veins, Mitch couldn’t
remember why he had been concerned about Cian’s rugby team or what had
triggered the thoughts in the first place.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“I want to fuck you.” He gasped the words at Cian,
fully aware this was something they rarely did and that it was the first time
he’d verbalized the desire.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Let me guess,” Cian said, his voice heated. “You’d
like me on my knees, with my arse in the air so you can see the straps while
you ride me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Before Mitch could reply, Cian turned on the bed and
presented himself exactly as he’d suggested. The sight took Mitch’s breath away,
and for a few moments all he could do was stare at the sheer beauty and
incredible hotness of Cian’s well-formed backside. When Cian reached behind him
and pulled his cheeks apart, Mitch moaned softly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Hey!” Cian glared at Mitch over his shoulder. “This
arse isn’t going to fuck itself.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The joke, expressed in a needy tone of voice, was
exactly what Mitch needed. He pulled the tube of lube from the bedside table
and squeezed some onto his fingers before making short work of preparing Cian
for the coming invasion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It wasn’t long before Cian was pushing back, trying to
fuck himself on Mitch’s fingers, and Mitch took it as a sign. He withdrew his
hand, squeezed more lube onto it, and spread it across his cock, grateful
they’d decided to forgo condoms shortly after moving in together. Since they
were a couple and exclusive as well as each other’s first, they’d agreed to do
without the protection.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Fighting his need, Mitch eased his way into the narrow
heat. Cian seemed eager enough, but that didn’t change the fact that he rarely
bottomed. When the full length of his dick was buried deep inside Cian, Mitch
rested, pressing his lips to Cian’s shoulder while their bodies adjusted.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Will you get a move on.” Cian wiggled his arse,
stressing his impatience.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Your wish…” Mitch didn’t waste any more time on words
and pulled back, only to immediately slide into Cian again, relishing the hot
grip the tight hole had on his straining cock. He’d forgotten how good this
was.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Fuck, yeah,” Cian groaned. “You feel so good.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“You too,” Mitch said, struggling for breath. “So
tight. This won’t take long.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He moved faster, pushing in and out of Cian with more
force. Already he could feel the telltale tingle in his balls, and he struggled
to fight his impending explosion, to extend the pleasure for a few more
moments. Cian enthusiastically moving with him intensified every penetration, which
didn’t help at all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When his orgasm hit, Mitch felt it in every inch of
his body. Cian’s arse contracting around his erupting cock only enhanced
Mitch’s climax. It wasn’t until he’d shot the last drop of cum that Mitch realized
he’d completely ignored Cian’s dick and even failed to release it from its
pouch.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Still seated deep inside Cian, he lifted one hand and
reached for Cian’s cock, expecting to find it throbbing and hard. When his
fingers connected with a wet, sticky patch of material instead, he chuckled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cian glanced at him again, and Mitch wasn’t sure
whether the red glow on Cian’s cheeks was the result of his recent climax or
embarrassment over how he’d reached it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“That was hot,” Cian said. “We’ll have to do it
again.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mitch couldn’t argue
with that. He might not be sure how he felt about Cian joining a gay rugby
team, but he had no doubts about how much he loved having a rugby-playing
boyfriend.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">*****</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If you're curious about the earlier titles, you can find them in the following places: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-GB">A Miracle in
the Library: </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="file:///C:/Users/meent/Documents/My%20Writings/Mitch%20&amp;%20Cian/Mitch%20&amp;%20Cian%20%234/mybook.to/AMITL"><span lang="EN-GB">Universal</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB"> | </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KXQ78PW"><span lang="EN-GB">Amazon US</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB"> | </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07KXQ78PW"><span lang="EN-GB">Amazon UK</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-GB">Lessons in
Love: </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="file:///C:/Users/meent/Documents/My%20Writings/Mitch%20&amp;%20Cian/Mitch%20&amp;%20Cian%20%234/mybook.to/LiL"><span lang="EN-GB">Universal</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB"> | </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PPXPXKD"><span lang="EN-GB">Amazon US</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB"> | </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07PPXPXKD"><span lang="EN-GB">Amazon UK</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-GB">Pride of
Place: </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="file:///C:/Users/meent/Documents/My%20Writings/Mitch%20&amp;%20Cian/Mitch%20&amp;%20Cian%20%234/mybook.to/PoP"><span lang="EN-GB">Universal</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB"> | </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TFFL7KF"><span lang="EN-GB">Amazon US</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB"> | </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07TFFL7KF"><span lang="EN-GB">Amazon UK</span></a></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFnL4fbsKCPKdoJyl7ZtG0Pi8ZWAd9uLl-GsZv3lrU-5ONoJ9KL8kVch7wm2p3KWmSZAXpCetbpdKC3Mt41yt2yQV_mJe3smraM9uvsjDHfNSewiw9xFHyRhZMSDqtW_J7gojUBNPSPfG/s1600/Cover_Mock_Up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="948" data-original-width="1293" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFnL4fbsKCPKdoJyl7ZtG0Pi8ZWAd9uLl-GsZv3lrU-5ONoJ9KL8kVch7wm2p3KWmSZAXpCetbpdKC3Mt41yt2yQV_mJe3smraM9uvsjDHfNSewiw9xFHyRhZMSDqtW_J7gojUBNPSPfG/s320/Cover_Mock_Up.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-80576231428210770792019-05-24T19:52:00.000+01:002019-05-24T19:52:56.902+01:00Flashback to Equality<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg119fBrV9YeXSM0pprmT_0vVQ0qacw9FV4G6ccI1a__70q0hyphenhyphenmDs5fJ2eQJIhm2hUizW5UFur6bZGe4l1u5q5z_rJXCy-Unrll3p8dnLeOLlW1ib_sbhE2BLbPBgY-yL9_VvVU_vMCNNC-/s1600/Equality+Birthday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="940" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg119fBrV9YeXSM0pprmT_0vVQ0qacw9FV4G6ccI1a__70q0hyphenhyphenmDs5fJ2eQJIhm2hUizW5UFur6bZGe4l1u5q5z_rJXCy-Unrll3p8dnLeOLlW1ib_sbhE2BLbPBgY-yL9_VvVU_vMCNNC-/s400/Equality+Birthday.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Almost exactly four years ago, Ireland voted in
favour of marriage equality during a referendum, making us the first and so far
only country to introduce this right through a popular vote. As you can
probably imagine, I was very invested in both the campaign leading up to the
referendum and in the eventual result. I remember working in the library the
day the votes were being counted and spending most of my time staring at my
twitter account as the results from the various counties were announced.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Counting the votes always takes at least a day in
Ireland and I was home again by the time the national result was officially
announced. Although by that stage it had been clear for some time that the
YES-vote had won the day, I still released a huge sigh of relief (and shed more
than a few tears) when the official declaration was made.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">The referendum and the months leading up to it made
such an impression on me that I had to put it in a book. The result was
Equality, the second book in my Dublin Virtues trilogy which was released on
the first anniversary of the referendum. To this day it ranks very high on my
list of favourites. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">In the following scene we are getting close to
March 22<sup>nd</sup>, the day the referendum is to take place, and Lorcan and
Eric have joined the Yes campaign in Lorcan’s hometown, where he’s expected to
make a speech.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">After over an
hour of listening to all the reasons people should vote No, Eric wanted to
scream. They were the same claims he heard on radio and television every day,
and they didn’t get any less ridiculous just because people kept repeating
them.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-indent: 14.2pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. You’ve now heard the arguments from
those who oppose the suggestion made in the referendum. For the sake of
objectivity, we decided it’s only fair to also invite someone from the Yes
campaign to state their case.” The man on stage nodded at Lorcan, who appeared
to stiffen more, if such a thing were possible, before getting up and slowly
approaching the speaking platform. Eric’s heartbeat increased as he worried
about the man he loved, and he said a silent prayer to the God he didn’t
believe in, for the words to flow and the audience not to be too hostile. He
held his breath as he waited for Lorcan to start.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-indent: 14.2pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">“Thank you for allowing me
to say a few words.”</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Eric released the air he’d
been holding as he stared at his boyfriend—if that was still true—and
recognized the nervous tension on his face. Lorcan moved his head as if he
wanted to memorize the faces of everybody in the hall for future reference and
yet, Eric was sure he didn’t see anybody.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-indent: 14.2pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">“I realize this isn’t a comfortable subject for most of you. Trust me,
it isn’t easy for me, either. It never was.” Lorcan paused, as if he wasn’t
sure how to go on, and for a moment Eric was convinced he was about to step
away from the microphone and sit down again. Eric imagined he could hear
Lorcan’s deep sigh before he continued. “You’re being asked to vote in favor of
something you’ve always been told is wrong. Most of you are certain people like
me are an abomination in the eyes of God.”</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Eric saw several people nod
in agreement.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-indent: 14.2pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">“But don’t you feel that thinking along those lines amounts to accusing
God of making countless mistakes? God, we’ve been told, is almighty. God is
infallible. If that is true, then why are gay children being born every day?
Because believe me when I say that none of us woke up one morning and decided
to be gay out of spite, or out of some deep-rooted desire to be different. Far
from it. When I first realized I was attracted to men, I hated myself. I didn’t
want to be the odd one out. All I desired was to be the same as everybody
else—to fit in. And I don’t. I can’t begin to explain how much it hurts when
you’re being treated as different, less than others, just because you were born
a certain way.”</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-indent: 14.2pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Lorcan paused again and Eric braced himself, convinced someone in the
audience would start heckling any moment, but silence reigned supreme. Eric
didn’t think it would have been his approach, but maybe honest and vulnerable
was the way to win over the crowd.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-indent: 14.2pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-indent: 14.2pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">“We’re not asking for special treatment. All we want is to be treated
the same way as you. This vote isn’t about whether or not you understand or
approve of homosexuality. It has nothing to do with raising and adopting
children. All a Yes vote would ensure is that we will be a little bit less
separate from the rest of society. We just want to be equal. Nothing is going
to change for you. Your marriages will still be as good or as bad as they are
right now—your weddings still as lavish or as simple as you want them to be.
Voting Yes won’t cost you anything and will give so very much.”</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Lorcan looked up and his gaze sought Eric’s before he bowed his head and
took a small step backward.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">“But what about the children!” an angry voice shouted from somewhere in
the back of the hall.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Eric turned to see who had spoken but was too late. When he focused on
Lorcan again the man had gone through a transformation. The hesitation was
gone, and no sign of shyness or awkwardness remained as Lorcan all but glared
at the crowd.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-indent: 14.2pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">“Yes! The children. Let’s talk about them. Like I said, this referendum
isn’t about whether or not a gay couple should be able to adopt a child.
Children are already being raised by same-sex couples and legislation to
facilitate that is separate from the marriage issue. But, if you are so worried
about the children and their feelings, how can you possibly stand by while
people proclaim, day after day, that the only way a child should be raised is
by a heterosexual couple? How do you imagine that makes children who are now
growing up with gay parents, or are being brought up by single parents, feel?
Do you seriously believe it’s a good idea to tell all those children they’re
just not good enough? Because that’s what you’re doing. Just as you’re telling
every child who is questioning their sexuality right now, and trying to come to
terms with the fact that they don’t fit what society has decided is the norm,
that they’re inferior. Don’t tell me you’re worried about the children if you’re
prepared to hurt so many of them just to win your argument. Don’t be a
hypocrite. This has nothing to do with the children and everything to do with
your prejudices.”</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Hesitant clapping started on Eric’s right and within moments others
joined in. Eric’s heart swelled as he watched Lorcan fully relax for the first
time in four days. He had no doubt Lorcan knew as well as he did that he
wouldn’t have convinced everyone. But, by the sound of it, he’d managed to make
at least a few people think.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Blurb</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQmrDi6E7wXe9SIJw33oNJAPP_HN7v8qjGgJYpKRzPHV8dcrZvrBXPINi0vrRKHtXMSW3e3xem2iy-PNTAv5fy_B_Xca_Mbg7hBH77tgtxiJlRVqwC9dW0_VZ1FhoWNf9_BuyV4W8y4_h/s1600/Cover+Equality_800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQmrDi6E7wXe9SIJw33oNJAPP_HN7v8qjGgJYpKRzPHV8dcrZvrBXPINi0vrRKHtXMSW3e3xem2iy-PNTAv5fy_B_Xca_Mbg7hBH77tgtxiJlRVqwC9dW0_VZ1FhoWNf9_BuyV4W8y4_h/s320/Cover+Equality_800.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<b><i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Love is love. But what if the fight for equality
gets in the way of building a relationship?</span></i></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Lorcan Barrett has never considered himself
relationship material. After his parents made it perfectly clear they’d never
welcome a partner of his into their home, he learned to love his own company
and now can’t imagine sharing his life with another. After a single passionate
kiss with Eric Kavanagh—the night before he travels to Canada for three
months—Lorcan’s no longer sure he wants to be on his own. The problem is, he
has no idea what sharing his life with someone else might entail.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.5pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Eric Kavanagh grew up in a loving and supportive
family and had always assumed he’d end up in a committed relationship. Sure
that he’s found the one, Eric doesn’t worry about the fact that Lorcan has no
experience when it comes to love and relationships. They are good together, so
what could possibly go wrong?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.5pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">When both men get involved in the
marriage equality referendum in Ireland, it appears to bring them even closer
together, until Lorcan’s insecurities get the upper hand and he shuts Eric out.
Will the fight for a Yes vote cost them their relationship, or will they be
able to find a balance between the love they share and the need for equality?</span></div>
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<a href="http://mybook.to/VirtueEquality" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;" target="_blank"><span style="color: #184c6c;">mybook.to/VirtueEquality</span></a></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-81185238929840117392019-05-20T12:50:00.000+01:002019-05-24T22:10:37.060+01:00Flashback to Strangers in the Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie2irQSXgbsaWN5rfcp3dliW9PsnDdcDWZbEungNDczbSiCbAlxam0D4ACScIuLgQW99lSsRs8y56U2X10Z5FoOAezrqp3DcrtDaen0u83MjzcOH6hZZm77o02_sqCzAXX05MMp9yuJuI2/s1600/SitN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="317" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie2irQSXgbsaWN5rfcp3dliW9PsnDdcDWZbEungNDczbSiCbAlxam0D4ACScIuLgQW99lSsRs8y56U2X10Z5FoOAezrqp3DcrtDaen0u83MjzcOH6hZZm77o02_sqCzAXX05MMp9yuJuI2/s640/SitN.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Happy Monday, my friends. Are you ready for another flashback?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This one is from <i><b>Strangers in the Night</b></i> which is in fact the very first MM story I ever wrote as well as the only time I had a writing partner. We had so much fun figuring out how to write a story together, and fell in love with our characters during the process. I'm still sorry that Jaycee Edward, my co-writer for this book, isn't writing anymore.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">If the excerpt below leaves you curious, you can find the book here: </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Strangers in the Night</i></b>:</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><a data-ft="{"tn":"-U"}" data-lynx-mode="asynclazy" data-lynx-uri="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fmybook.to%2FSitN%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR3gvJEOFh7CfShGMCR5tpp-bkX-m9ZbaySBnFAo8UlCAtsG2PhjSi5yo3w&h=AT3OjLSR0YiDhdPj0L6LfsIumgUiBmUvqur7kQFnqx9k2xQ6ycdpQ-Q5wLZiD0XyRuCzSBnfTM52M0lYZtIJYAOG0gIEmoWNbR6qUKBW8oMBA7ZgK8rl5CaOik75q7QhAy2jOaydFLkgLcAgBGWDvy1w" href="http://mybook.to/SitN?fbclid=IwAR3gvJEOFh7CfShGMCR5tpp-bkX-m9ZbaySBnFAo8UlCAtsG2PhjSi5yo3w" rel="noopener nofollow" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">mybook.to/SitN</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">***</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">THE SOFA was too damn short. And too damn narrow. That’s what a man got for being a Good Samaritan: a long, sleepless night. Callum sighed and pulled the blanket closer around him as he listened to the sounds coming from the bed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Slade had looked exhausted, tossing and turning only a few times before drifting off to sleep. The jagged scar on the young man’s thigh confirmed Callum’s suspicions. He’d seen Slade rubbing that leg and favoring it when he walked. He was certain it was a war wound. The other scars, though…. Some fading, some angry red. They littered his arms and thighs, and—what intrigued Callum the most—they were straight. Self-inflicted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As he pondered the possible reasons behind the scars, a change in the boy’s breathing caught his attention. Low moans and murmurs, words Callum couldn’t quite make out, filled the room, growing ever louder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Slade’s restless movements morphed into violent thrashing. A gut-wrenching scream broke from his chest, startling Callum from his musings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Jesus. The lad was having one hell of a nightmare. He couldn’t just lie here and listen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was only a few steps from the sofa to the bed. Slade was completely wrapped up in the bedclothes. In the faint light from the smoldering fire, Callum could see sweat shining on the boy’s face.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Please… please… and Zach? He couldn’t make out the other words. The pain in Slade’s voice and the few words Callum could distinguish were heartbreaking. Callum sat on the edge of the bed and shook the boy’s shoulder. Slade continued to toss and tangle himself further in the covers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He flailed as if he were frantic to reach something… or someone. Callum shook him, harder this time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Wake up, lad. You’re dreaming.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Talk to me, Zach!” Slade shouted, still fully immersed in his nightmare.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The tossing and flailing increased, bringing Slade precariously close to throwing himself off the bed. Callum grasped Slade by both shoulders and shook, hard. Slade continued to jerk. This was more than just a simple nightmare. Lying across Slade’s body, Callum grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head, and rendered him immobile. Slade’s eyes flew open, and he instantly calmed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Interesting,” Callum mumbled without thinking. “You’re safe,” he said aloud to Slade, maintaining his hold on the boy’s wrists.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Slade stared into Callum’s eyes, unblinking. The boy had completely relaxed beneath him. He seemed more than content to stay as he was— pinned under Callum.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“What were you dreaming about, lad?” Callum kept his voice soft.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">For the first time since he’d woken up, Slade looked away. “Can’t remember.”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Don’t lie to me.” Callum allowed some authority to creep into his voice and was only half-surprised to see the boy instantly react to it.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Deployment. A bomb.”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Despite the severity of the situation, Callum couldn’t suppress the thrill running through him. It took so little to make this lad react. He needed to be told what to do. Callum suspected it wasn’t the only thing the boy needed.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Look at me, lad. Tell me what happened.”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Slade complied, bravely meeting Callum’s gaze. “We were trying to flush out insurgents.” He swallowed. “There was an explosion. My friend…. Zach….” Slade turned his head.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Eyes on me.” The naked pain in Slade’s eyes when he obeyed cut right through Callum. The sudden impulse to pull the young man to his chest and hold him close unsettled Callum. That wasn’t what Slade needed right now. Instead, Callum sat up, lifting himself off Slade’s chest but retaining the firm hold on his wrists. He had no intention of letting go anytime soon.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Tell me what happened,” he repeated.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A single tear slid down Slade’s cheek. “I was near the end of the line when we entered the building. I knew something was wrong.” A second tear escaped the brimming blue eyes. “I was going to warn them, tell them to go back, when….” The boy’s voice faded as his tears started to flow. “The flash, the noise, and then this unnatural quiet. Zach…. At first I couldn’t see him. And then….”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Sudden anger flashed through the tears. “You want to know what happened? He was shredded by that bomb. There was blood everywhere. I couldn’t reach him. My leg….” As quick as the anger had flared, it disappeared again. “He died before I could drag myself over to him. He died alone. He died because I was too slow… with my warning.”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You can’t blame yourself, lad. Things like that happen in war. You know that. Everyone in combat loses someone close to them. I take it Zach was the first friend you lost?”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Slade’s eyes slid closed, but his tears continued to fall. He shook his head. “No.”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Callum cocked his head. “What is it, then? Why does his death haunt you more than any of the others?”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“He was… special.”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Okay….” Callum drew the word out as he nodded thoughtfully. He selfishly wanted to ask what “special” meant, but this wasn’t the time. “Thank you for telling me.”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He released the boy’s wrists and wiped the tears from his face. “If I leave you alone, will you sleep?”</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Callum saw something in Slade’s eyes, something that looked a lot like hope. “I don’t know.” It was barely a whisper.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It wasn’t a difficult decision. In fact, it wasn’t a decision at all. “Move over, then. Tonight, at least, you won’t be alone and you will sleep.” Callum had no idea if it was possible to make someone sleep peacefully simply by ordering them to, but for the lad’s sake, he hoped it would work.</span></div>
<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-63728013950364755422019-05-07T21:52:00.002+01:002019-05-07T21:52:19.450+01:00Flashback to Lessons in Love<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Good evening my friends,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I hope you're enjoying my weekly teasers because there are still a few to come.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This week it is the turn of <b><i>Lessons in Love</i></b>, the second story featuring Mitch and Cian.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mitch has turned eighteen since he met Cian in <b><i>A Miracle in the Library</i></b>, and has travelled to Dublin to spend the long St. Patrick's Day weekend with Cian...on their own...without parental supervision.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Unsurprisingly, this means our two young lovers take their relationship beyond the kisses they've so far enjoyed. But with Cian not being a whole lot more experienced than Mitch, there's a fair amount of worry and second-guessing involved.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Enjoy</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lessons in Love buy link: </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a data-ft="{"tn":"-U"}" data-lynx-mode="asynclazy" data-lynx-uri="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fmybook.to%2FLiL%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR1fL-g0AKbMye_t4uVryuzUs3YzE8lwbQ67MtDFO-rj2OYPBPRVluijTeM&h=AT0vk6QhWb2JcWQhC0uGEwv8UTEvj8M5V-x2rF3bUUH3ASeTBy5s_QlgkrO44UxEyY4C6PzHSSPR1agGSJvKEuKo6CnKAcKjH3ZRrCv6wax7qwiWwJrQj6VlyWzdyEY0Bnb1Lqd258yRP-ZFpbuIhepX" href="http://mybook.to/LiL?fbclid=IwAR1fL-g0AKbMye_t4uVryuzUs3YzE8lwbQ67MtDFO-rj2OYPBPRVluijTeM" rel="noopener nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" target="_blank">mybook.to/LiL</a></span></div>
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***</div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 36pt;">When
he’d run out of reasons to be in the bathroom, Cian slowly made his way back to
his room, taking a deep breath before opening the door, only to release it on a
loud puff.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 36pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">Obviously,
Mitch didn’t share his concerns, considering he’d found his way into the bed
and under the covers with only his head and shoulders—his naked
shoulders—visible. The light mounted on the wall behind the <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">bed spread</span> a soft glow over his mop of black
hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">A
quick glance around the room showed Cian the pile of clothes Mitch had left on
the floor under the curtained window. As far as he could tell, the collection
did not include any underwear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">Without
looking at Mitch but fully aware of his gaze locked on his body, Cian made
quick work of stripping and adding his jeans and top to Mitch’s clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">The
first thing he noticed when he slipped underneath the covers was that for once
they weren’t chilly. Mitch’s body heat had created a nice warm nest for him to
crawl into. The second thing was Mitch’s naked thigh pressing against his. He
shifted, breaking the contact between them before it could freak Mitch out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">He
wished he could have practiced for this night, that there was a scenario he
could follow. He <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">knew</i> he should just
open his mouth and talk to Mitch, find out what, if any, concerns he had. But
he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how to phrase the question without
it sounding as if he was asking Mitch how far he was willing to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">He
stiffened when Mitch’s leg connected with his <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">again,</span>
but decided to ignore it. With the bed being as small as it was, contact would
be unavoidable, and making an issue out of every time it happened would only
make the situation worse, not better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">The
<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">mattress</span> dipped as Mitch turned. When he
placed a hand on Cian’s exposed neck, his breathing hitched.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">“Is
this okay?” Mitch’s question indicated that Cian’s discomfort hadn’t escaped
him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">Cian
turned on his side and faced Mitch, shocked to find his boyfriend’s face only
inches from his. “Yes, if it’s okay for you<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">,
it’s</span> okay for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">A
small smile played on Mitch’s lips. “You realize I have no idea what I’m doing,
right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">Cian
returned the smile, grateful that Mitch had found the courage he lacked. “I
haven’t got much more of an idea, to be honest.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">Mitch
gazed at him, his brown eyes even darker in the dim light. “Well,” he said, “I
know we’re both okay with this.” He drew closer and pressed his lips against
Cian’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">The
connection, the soft glide of Mitch’s tongue across his lips, was all Cian
needed to chase away his worries. Mitch was right. They both knew how to do
this…very well. They’d figure the rest of it out as they went, together. Then
those thoughts faded too as he deepened the kiss and lost himself in the smell,
taste, <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">and</span> feel of Mitch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">When
he could think again, Cian noticed they had somehow ended up pressed together,
most of their upper bodies touching too. As a result, there was no way he could
fail to notice Mitch’s stiff cock pressing against his thigh, mere inches away
from his own equally hard dick.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">As
their kisses got ever more heated and demanding, Mitch moved against Cian’s
body, obviously seeking more pleasure. As tempting as it was to touch Mitch’s
dick, Cian resisted and limited himself to stroking his boyfriend’s shoulder
and chest. His heart sang when Mitch copied his caresses, while Cian’s cock
went from hard to bordering on uncomfortable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">It
wasn’t long before the combination of Mitch’s touch, kisses, and still covered
dick rubbing against his leg became too much, and Cian lowered his free hand
and squeezed his own cock. A slight shift in the bed told him Mitch had copied
this action too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">Lust
took over, pushing any and all concerns Cian had harbored into the back of his
mind. He pushed the duvet to the end of the bed and freed his straining penis
from his suddenly very tight boxer briefs, stroking himself slowly without ever
pulling out of their endless kiss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">Hmmmm.
Mitch hummed against Cian’s lips as they both tugged at their dicks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">“Wanna
see.” As much as he hated ending their lip-lock, Cian couldn’t resist his
longing to see Mitch in all his naked glory. Without interrupting his wank, he
raised himself up a little and allowed his gaze to travel across Mitch’s naked
body. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Christ, but he’s gorgeous.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">His
body, stretched out on the bed, was lean but not skinny. The muscles in his
legs and arms were easily visible without being clearly defined. As for his
cock<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">….</span> Cian swallowed hard as his gaze
locked on the long, erect, and “heavier than he would have expected” dick and
Mitch’s hand gliding over it, pushing the skin up and down while soft, needy
sounds fell from his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">Cian
wasn’t sure why this felt much more intimate than the few hand and blow jobs
he’d given and received in the past. All he knew was that the combination of
watching Mitch as he pleasured himself and his own hand on his ready-to-explode
dick drove him to his climax with shocking speed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">He
raised his chin and shifted his focus to Mitch’s face. His lips were parted,
his cheeks flushed, and his gaze was firmly fixed on Cian’s hand as he stroked
and squeezed his erection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">“So
good,” Mitch rasped, his breath escaping him in sharp, short bursts. Then he
stiffened, and Cian lowered his gaze just in time to see cum erupting from his
cock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;">It
was all Cian needed to push him over the edge too. His orgasm roared through
his body, forcing his eyes shut as he surrendered to the previously unknown
pleasure of coming together with someone he cared for.<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">***</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Please check back next week for a new excerpt.</span></span></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-78435783468933507342019-04-30T20:43:00.000+01:002019-04-30T20:43:10.982+01:00Flashback to A Miracle in the Library<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXB6UBMTK6_Yle1O9VNa5MHsOwVJSvHHgIit-pNXvhtAkpXpYO8fo1fRsf-_rO_GHPPKZKXTMvlQQS6Hh4gd7grHa8o1NNyHKRLFfgDqIS8Dw7uj71TZKsZz_86-gOPhc9SYuDF1btk4XL/s1600/A+Miracle+in+the+Library+Cover+Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXB6UBMTK6_Yle1O9VNa5MHsOwVJSvHHgIit-pNXvhtAkpXpYO8fo1fRsf-_rO_GHPPKZKXTMvlQQS6Hh4gd7grHa8o1NNyHKRLFfgDqIS8Dw7uj71TZKsZz_86-gOPhc9SYuDF1btk4XL/s640/A+Miracle+in+the+Library+Cover+Final.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I mentioned in my previous post, I've started sharing excerpts from my published books in my Facebook group, Helena's Book Haven. If you want to read them as soon as I put them up, you'll have to join my group, but I will share them here too a week later.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This week the spotlight is on <b><i>A Miracle in the Library</i></b> and I've decided to share another first kiss.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">****</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mitch didn’t recognize the smile on Cian’s face. It was soft and warm and inviting and….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“You are something else.” Cian reached out and lifted Mitch’s chin with the press of a few fingers. “Stop me if you don’t want this.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cian’s gaze mesmerized him. He glanced from the beautiful brown eyes to Cian’s mouth and back again. Stop him? Nothing was further from Mitch’s mind. He was lost in the moment and hoped he would never be found.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mitch’s heart beat faster when Cian pressed his lips against his. The only people to have ever kissed him were family members. It didn’t compare. Lips should be lips should be lips, but there was a world of difference between Aunt Mary’s dry pecks and Cian’s lush caressing of Mitch’s mouth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He wanted more. He wanted…a taste. With his heart rate increasing even further, he parted his lips slightly and pushed the tip of his tongue through until he encountered Cian’s mouth. Cian’s response was immediate. He wrapped a hand around the back of Mitch’s neck, holding him in a light yet possessive grip. At the same time he too parted his lips, and the next moment Mitch was lost.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Closing his eyes, Mitch didn’t actually see lights flashing, but he understood why people described the experience as such. He was transported to a version of life he hadn’t known existed, a world filled with sensations, feelings, and thoughts he didn’t recognize. The kiss sent tendrils of heat coursing through his veins. Mitch felt Cian’s heart beating against the palm of the hand he’d pressed against his solid chest. This was…. He didn’t have words for what it was. New, shocking, the best thing in the world, scary, delicious, more….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The urge to scream came over him for the second time when Cian pulled back, gave him one more peck on his lips, and stepped aside.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Much as you taste like more, I think that’s probably enough for here and now.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Much as I hate to admit it,” Mitch grumbled, “I think you’re probably right.” He kicked the fence for good measure.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Will I see you in the library tomorrow?” Cian asked.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Mitch said, cringing when he realized how childish that sounded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“It’s a date.” Cian grinned before giving Mitch one more kiss and walking away.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mitch didn’t move from his spot until Cian was out of sight. <i>It’s a date.</i> He had a date.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">****</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If you'd like to read more, you can find the <b><i>A Miracle in the Library</i></b> here: </span><a href="http://mybook.to/AMITL" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #184c6c; cursor: pointer; line-height: inherit; outline: 0px; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">mybook.to/AMITL</span></a></div>
Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-81898442427627197752019-04-20T10:56:00.002+01:002019-04-20T10:56:58.772+01:00Flashback to Double Dutch Courage<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This week I started something new in
my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/123798658228917/">Facebook Readers’ Group.<o:p></o:p></a></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Because it will be some time before
I’ll have a new book to announce or new tidbits to tease you with, I’ve decided to
share a fragment from one of my earlier books once a week.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There’s a poll in my Facebook Readers' Group where
members can indicate which story they’re most curious about. At the
moment, Double Dutch Courage holds the #1 spot, so I shared an excerpt from that
story last Monday.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I will post the excerpts I share in
my group here too. But, if<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>you want to
be first to read them or if you want to have a say about the order in which I share these flashbacks, you can join my group here: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/123798658228917/">Helena’s Book Haven</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The following scene takes
place at the end of a rather difficult and painful conversation and features
the very first time Ronan and Lucas kiss...the very first time Ronan kisses
full stop. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;">If the excerpt makes you hungry for more, you can find Double Dutch Courage here:</span><span style="background: white; color: #365899;"> <a href="http://mybook.to/DDC?fbclid=IwAR3ne1tssEuDvrE_Y47OnAMYkBp2J9Y_4_4ykb2vTr_-w9p9tYsK-Q88aus" target="_blank">mybook.to/DDC</a></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ronan took a
few steps, closing the distance between them, his gaze so intense it sent
shivers down Lucas’s spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I didn’t think
too much of it at the time, but now I’m thinking he must have been speaking
from personal experience. Didn’t you say he’d been looking at your Facebook
timeline?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ronan nodded
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Maybe,” Lucas
said, “he regretted leaving as he did but felt it was too late to fix the
situation? Did you ever ask your mother? Would she have allowed contact if that’s
what your father had wanted?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He could almost
see the cogs in Ronan’s mind working as he pondered the question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“No, I never
asked but I don’t think she would have been okay with that.” A grim smile
tugged at his lips. “If she mentioned ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ once while
referring to Paul, she must have said it a thousand times.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He took the
last few steps separating them and dropped to his knees opposite Lucas. “Thank
you. I’m not sure where that came from. Like I said, I never used to waste any time
thinking about him. I guess living in his house, living his life almost, has
triggered some long repressed curiosity and resentment in me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ronan seemed to
search Lucas’s face for something, then lowered his gaze until Lucas was
convinced he was staring at his lips. He mused that the sunshine had to be
getting to him as the afternoon took on a dreamlike quality. Ronan licked his
lips, the tip of his tongue tempting Lucas, teasing him. When Ronan leant
forward Lucas wondered what was happening, whether he was imagining things. Surely
Ronan wasn’t about to —<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The soft press
of Ronan’s lips against his elicited a sigh from Lucas. He would have been
embarrassed about his reaction if he hadn’t been lost in the moment. It was the
second time Ronan had taken him by surprise in this manner, except on this
occasion he didn’t appear to have any intention of pulling back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">With so many
reasons why this was the worst idea ever, it didn’t make any sense that the
overriding thought running through his mind was<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> more</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He cupped
Ronan’s neck, keeping the pressure light, barely there. Ronan reacted as if
Lucas had used force and pressed his lips firmer against his, parting them in
the process.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lucas was
helpless against the onslaught. It had taken him days to stop obsessing about
Ronan’s mouth after that quick, shy kiss a week earlier. There would be no
coming back from this. He had no doubt he would end up hurt. Even as he had the
thought, Lucas parted his own lips, slipped his tongue through the gap and tentatively
caressed Ronan’s mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Oh.” Ronan’s
soft exclamation meant his lips parted farther and Lucas took advantage. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fuck being sensible. Fuck worrying about
tomorrow, or next week, or six months from today.</i> He was here, now, and the
tongue hesitantly exploring his was nothing like what he’d expected and
everything he wanted it to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The kiss
transported him back to his teenage years, to the first boy he’d ever kissed.
Clumsy and with clashing teeth, it had been as awkward as it had been exciting.
Pretty much as it was now, except this time it didn’t make sense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He pulled back
until the tips of their noses were the only parts of them still touching.
Ronan’s lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes. They widened and he lowered
his gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“That bad, eh?”
Ronan directed his words at the grass beneath their knees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Not bad.”
Lucas tried to figure out what to say. Not sure what he was reacting to, he
didn’t know which words to use either, so the truth would have to do. “It just
brought back a memory of something I hadn’t thought about in ages.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Oh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ronan still
wouldn’t look at him and Lucas didn’t like it. He lifted Ronan’s chin with his
index finger. “It reminded me of when I was fourteen and me and Hans, my best
friend back then, decided to find out what the big deal about kissing was.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“It was like
your first kiss?” Ronan still tried to avoid meeting Lucas’s gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Yes.” Lucas
smiled. He couldn’t believe Hans had slipped his mind. They’d done a lot of
exploring together before Hans decided he was interested in girls after all. He
got so lost in his reminiscence he almost missed the words Ronan muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Makes sense.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It hit Lucas
like a ton of bricks. Here was yet another reason why getting involved with
Ronan was the worst idea ever. If he was right, he would be Ronan’s first in
everything. The thought that Ronan’s inexperience might include kissing hadn’t
crossed his mind until this moment. He wasn’t sure he could make that journey
with Ronan without getting emotionally involved. He had to know for sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I’m your first?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The combination
of shame and defeat Lucas read in Ronan’s expression tore at him. He didn’t
need an answer. He also didn’t need to think about what to do next. Yes, he
would end up getting hurt, but he’d deal with it. It wouldn’t be the first time
or, in all likelihood, the last. He could be Ronan’s first and make it a good,
a memorable, experience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I want to be
your second, too.” He didn’t wait and pressed his lips back against Ronan’s
before he could respond.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The change in
Ronan was immediate, tension leaving his body as if Lucas had managed to open a
valve. The touch of Ronan’s hand against his cheek, his fingertips tentative as
they explored the stubble, mesmerized him. Those fingers traced every inch of
skin on the right side of Lucas’s face, as if they wanted to commit his
features to memory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He smiled into
the kiss when he realized this second encounter was already less messy than the
first had been. In fact, it wasn’t just less clumsy, it was also more sensual
than any second kiss had the right to be. Ronan appeared to have moved on from
shy to curious and explored Lucas’s mouth with breathtaking intensity, making
the kiss more sensual with every passing second. Lucas was very aware of his
cock filling and grateful they were still kneeling, so it wasn’t quite as
obvious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He lost himself
in the kiss, straightening his upper legs and pulling Ronan up with him. Their
chests connected, his hands were on Ronan’s shoulders, back, and sliding lower
until he cupped his ass and pulled him closer again. He wanted more, he needed
to lie down, feel Ronan on top of him, underneath him. It didn’t matter where
or how but he yearned to be close.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: DE; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Mam, waaromzoenen die mannen?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The young voice
shattered the moment and Lucas drew back, following the kid and his parents
with his gaze while releasing Ronan so suddenly he swayed before finding his
balance again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“What’s wrong?”
Ronan turned his head in the direction Lucas was gazing. “What did he say? What
did it mean?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“The kid asked
his mum ‘why are those men kissing.’”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Oh.” He tried
to be casual about it but Lucas didn’t miss Ronan’s sudden need to inspect his
surroundings. “I forgot where we are.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Yeah.” Lucas
sighed. “That makes two of us. And I should have known better.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I thought
Amsterdam was pretty tolerant when it comes to same sex relationships,” Ronan
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #1d2129; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Sure,” Lucas
agreed. “But there’s a difference between being tolerant and wanting to witness
full-on exhibitions of lust.” He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading. “And
that was more than just a kiss.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lucas watched
in wonder as Ronan touched his own lips. He’d never believed people did that in
real life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #1d2129; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He should be
grateful they’d been interrupted. He should take this opportunity to talk to
Ronan about all the reasons why this was a bad idea. He should remind Ronan of
the fact that work relationships had a bad reputation for good reasons. He
should… He should… He should… And he already knew he wouldn’t do any of those
things. For better or for worse he would take what was on offer while trying to
build a buffer zone around his heart so that when—if—Ronan decided to go back
to Ireland he wouldn’t be shattered. He had no choice. There was no way he
could make himself dim the light that had sprung to life in Ronan’s eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-86854453355576739272019-03-17T14:50:00.000+00:002019-03-17T14:50:50.875+00:00Lessons in Love (Mitch & Cian #2) – Out Now<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm22WdCRQtbnPW26ceKBX4cnxgnkCR8jlSBIadXo9oFX55gGiZY5QQQbKibd-3_QCs5h0JEy68cT2gljV1UZnDQidZsiOvTxAxHHZ9Ru8GTf79so-hQ0kgyAHL57Ry_hz2fd-h9vderZbz/s1600/LiL_Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm22WdCRQtbnPW26ceKBX4cnxgnkCR8jlSBIadXo9oFX55gGiZY5QQQbKibd-3_QCs5h0JEy68cT2gljV1UZnDQidZsiOvTxAxHHZ9Ru8GTf79so-hQ0kgyAHL57Ry_hz2fd-h9vderZbz/s640/LiL_Cover.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Word
Count 18700 approx</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Buy
links: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/mybook.to/LiL">Universal</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PPXPXKD">Amazon US</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07PPXPXKD">Amazon UK</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Available
to read in Kindle Unlimited<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Happy St. Patrick’s
Day my wonderful readers. If you’re celebrating, I hope you’re having a blast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And talking about celebrating
and having a blast, Mitch and Cian are having the time of their lives during
their St. Patrick’s Day weekend in Dublin!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Blurb<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Falling
for each other was easy. Staying together comes with a learning curve.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Three months after they met in the miraculous library, Cian
is nervously preparing for Mitch’s arrival in Dublin. As much as he’s looking
forward to three long days with his boyfriend—without parental supervision—he
can’t help worrying about the fact that they will have to share both his small
room and his even smaller bed. He doesn’t even own pajamas. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Their relationship is new, and Cian may be two years older,
but he has little more experience than Mitch when it comes to intimacy and
boyfriends. He isn’t sure what he’s doing or what’s expected of him. As a
result, Cian and Mitch are in for a whirlwind weekend, filled with shocks,
surprises, fun, and deepening feelings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Against the backdrop of Ireland celebrating its national
holiday, Cian and Mitch learn their first Lessons in Love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">While a Miracle in the Library was a young adult story,
Lessons in Love features two young men old enough to consume alcohol and be
sexually active. This book is therefore meant for readers who are eighteen
years or older and contains sexual acts between two consenting men.</span></i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Want to know more?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Read on for a never
shared before, not entirely safe for work, excerpt from <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lessons in Love</i></b>:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Excerpt<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Resolutions
are always easier to make than to follow up on.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cian’s room looked even smaller than it
actually was when they’d both entered and closed the door behind them. They
still had the flat to themselves, which was a blessing as far as Cian was
concerned. He’d taken advantage of his housemates’ absence to give Mitch a
quick tour of the apartment so that he knew where the bathroom and the kitchen
were and, probably most importantly, which shelves in the fridge and larder
held items belonging to Cian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Now that he was faced with the reality of
having to spend the next eight or so hours in the tiny space with Mitch, all
his doubts were back. He’d never shared a bed with another man before, <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">and</span> he was pretty sure the same was true for
Mitch. And his bed really was narrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Cian
focused on Mitch, hoping to determine his mood, only to find him studying Cian,
his expression not so much worried but definitely indicating that Mitch was
waiting for Cian to take the lead. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Right
so.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Do you want to use the bathroom first?”
Cian asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sure.” Mitch opened his backpack and
extracted a small purple toiletry bag and a towel which he clutched to his
chest as he stepped into the hallway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cian sank to the bed and sat, staring at
the door through which Mitch had just disappeared. He needed to pull himself
together. This was ludicrous. <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">They</span> were
going to sleep…together<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">…</span>in a bed. There
was absolutely nothing scary or worrying about that scenario.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Except that they were
bound to end up close together, touching.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> The bed was too small
for that not to happen. <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">Except that he didn’t
know how far to strip before getting under the covers.</span> He normally slept
naked. Common sense told him that probably wouldn’t be a good idea now. But
what should he wear? Just underwear? Underwear and a T-shirt? It wasn’t as if
he owned anything resembling pajamas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When the door opened <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">and</span> Mitch returned, still wearing all his
clothes, Cian was no closer to finding answers to his dilemma. Buying himself a
few more minutes before he had to decide, he took his turn in the bathroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">was
being</span> silly. He wouldn’t worry about what to wear if he and Mitch were
going swimming or to the beach. The only reason nerves cramped his stomach as
he brushed his teeth was that they’d be sharing a bed together and that there’d
be no way to hide his body’s reaction to having Mitch close, to any accidental
or intended touches they might exchange. As if on cue, his cock lengthened<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Down,</i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> boy.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When he’d run out of reasons to be in the
bathroom, Cian slowly made his way back to his room, taking a deep breath
before opening the door, only to release it on a loud puff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Obviously, Mitch didn’t share his
concerns, considering he’d found his way into the bed and under the covers with
only his head and shoulders—his naked shoulders—visible. The light mounted on
the wall behind the <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">bed spread</span> a soft
glow over his mop of black hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A quick glance around the room showed Cian
the pile of clothes Mitch had left on the floor under the curtained window. As
far as he could tell, the collection did not include any underwear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Without looking at Mitch but fully aware
of his gaze locked on his body, Cian made quick work of stripping and adding
his jeans and top to Mitch’s clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The first thing he noticed when he slipped
underneath the covers was that for once they weren’t chilly. Mitch’s body heat
had created a nice warm nest for him to crawl into. The second thing was
Mitch’s naked thigh pressing against his. He shifted, breaking the contact
between them before it could freak Mitch out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He wished he could have practiced for this
night, that there was a scenario he could follow. He <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">knew</i> he should just open his mouth and talk to Mitch, find out
what, if any, concerns he had. But he couldn’t for the life of him figure out
how to phrase the question without it sounding as if he was asking Mitch how
far he was willing to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He stiffened when Mitch’s leg connected
with his <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">again,</span> but decided to ignore it.
With the bed being as small as it was, contact would be unavoidable, and making
an issue out of every time it happened would only make the situation worse, not
better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">mattress</span>
dipped as Mitch turned. When he placed a hand on Cian’s exposed neck, his
breathing hitched.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Is this okay?” Mitch’s question indicated
that Cian’s discomfort hadn’t escaped him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cian turned on his side and faced Mitch,
shocked to find his boyfriend’s face only inches from his. “Yes, if it’s okay
for you<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">, it’s</span> okay for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A small smile played on Mitch’s lips. “You
realize I have no idea what I’m doing, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cian returned the smile, grateful that
Mitch had found the courage he lacked. “I haven’t got much more of an idea, to
be honest.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mitch gazed at him, his brown eyes even
darker in the dim light. “Well,” he said, “I know we’re both okay with this.”
He drew closer and pressed his lips against Cian’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The connection, the soft glide of Mitch’s
tongue across his lips, was all Cian needed to chase away his worries. Mitch
was right. They both knew how to do this…very well. They’d figure the rest of
it out as they went, together. Then those thoughts faded too as he deepened the
kiss and lost himself in the smell, taste, <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">and</span>
feel of Mitch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When he could think again, Cian noticed
they had somehow ended up pressed together, most of their upper bodies touching
too. As a result, there was no way he could fail to notice Mitch’s stiff cock pressing
against his thigh, mere inches away from his own equally hard dick.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As their kisses got ever more heated and
demanding, Mitch moved against Cian’s body, obviously seeking more pleasure. As
tempting as it was to touch Mitch’s dick, Cian resisted and limited himself to
stroking his boyfriend’s shoulder and chest. His heart sang when Mitch copied
his caresses, while Cian’s cock went from hard to bordering on uncomfortable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">It wasn’t long before the combination of
Mitch’s touch, kisses, and still covered dick rubbing against his leg became
too much, and Cian lowered his free hand and squeezed his own cock. A slight
shift in the bed told him Mitch had copied this action too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Lust took over, pushing any and all
concerns Cian had harbored into the back of his mind. He pushed the duvet to
the end of the bed and freed his straining penis from his suddenly very tight
boxer briefs, stroking himself slowly without ever pulling out of their endless
kiss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Hmmmm. Mitch hummed against Cian’s lips as
they both tugged at their dicks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Wanna see.” As much as he hated ending
their lip-lock, Cian couldn’t resist his longing to see Mitch in all his naked
glory. Without interrupting his wank, he raised himself up a little and allowed
his gaze to travel across Mitch’s naked body. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Christ, but he’s gorgeous.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His body, stretched out on the bed, was
lean but not skinny. The muscles in his legs and arms were easily visible
without being clearly defined. As for his cock<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">….</span>
Cian swallowed hard as his gaze locked on the long, erect, and “heavier than he
would have expected” dick and Mitch’s hand gliding over it, pushing the skin up
and down while soft, needy sounds fell from his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cian wasn’t sure why this felt much more
intimate than the few hand and blow jobs he’d given and received in the past.
All he knew was that the combination of watching Mitch as he pleasured himself
and his own hand on his ready-to-explode dick drove him to his climax with
shocking speed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He raised his chin and shifted his focus
to Mitch’s face. His lips were parted, his cheeks flushed, and his gaze was
firmly fixed on Cian’s hand as he stroked and squeezed his erection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“So good,” Mitch rasped, his breath
escaping him in sharp, short bursts. Then he stiffened, and Cian lowered his
gaze just in time to see cum erupting from his cock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">It was all Cian needed to push him over
the edge too. His orgasm roared through his body, forcing his eyes shut as he
surrendered to the previously unknown pleasure of coming together with someone
he cared for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">****</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A
Miracle in the Library (Mitch & Cian #1)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Buy
links: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/mybook.to/AMITL">Universal</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KXQ78PW">Amazon US</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07KXQ78PW">Amazon UK</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Available
to read in Kindle Unlimited<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-87727254025467869122019-02-14T09:00:00.000+00:002019-02-14T09:00:06.070+00:00Valentine’s Surprise (Valentine’s Love #2) - Out Now<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">With
all the excitement as a result of having two novellas available for free over
the past few days, I more or less forgot to also promote the release of the
second story in the Valentine’s Love series. But, given that today actually is
Valentine’s Day, it is probably the perfect occasion to tell you all about </span><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Valentine’s
Surprise</i></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">. So, stay tuned for the cover, the blurb, and an exclusive, not
available anywhere else, excerpt.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDkX_P73_JVQ5J1VL907AEuDACe1_vAvlYwd60B0yfx0zkjEkX6C9nuxxS5JzsWCKG_fqF-bYbu9T-XDIj_bFP8pil3fE-iXGvDQLRB5cROEiDf_tXtQZWj3rhif_AbMt0u1X80-eqCpq-/s1600/Valentine%2527s+Surprise+Kindle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="753" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDkX_P73_JVQ5J1VL907AEuDACe1_vAvlYwd60B0yfx0zkjEkX6C9nuxxS5JzsWCKG_fqF-bYbu9T-XDIj_bFP8pil3fE-iXGvDQLRB5cROEiDf_tXtQZWj3rhif_AbMt0u1X80-eqCpq-/s640/Valentine%2527s+Surprise+Kindle.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Valentine’s
Love #2</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">20k
words approx. / 81 pages<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Price:
$0.99 / £0.99<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Buy
links: <a href="file:///C:/Users/meent/Documents/My%20Writings/VALENTINE'S%20DAY/2019/mybook.to/Valentinesurprise">Universal</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NK88HVV">Amazon US</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07NK88HVV">Amazon UK</a></span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Available
to read in KU</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Blurb<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Ben Cronin and Ty
O’Malley have been inseparable ever since they got together on Valentine’s Day.
Nine months into their relationship, dark clouds descend when Ben’s father
falls seriously ill and dies in a matter of weeks. Having lost his only close
relative, Ben is grief-stricken, and appears to be sinking ever deeper into a
black hole.</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">Desperate to help Ben cope with his pain, Ty
plans a getaway for them, to coincide with their first anniversary. But taking
Ben back to the stunning beauty of the Swiss Alps, a place he visited with his
father years ago, is a risky undertaking. Reuniting him with memories could as
easily push Ben deeper into his pain as it might help him find the first traces
of light. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">Ty’s plan will either bring them closer than
they’ve ever been, or spell disaster— for both of them.</span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="background: white;">Valentine’s surprise is the sequel to
Valentine’s Love. While it can be read as a stand-alone, you’ll enjoy this story
more if you read Valentine’s Love first.</span></i><span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Excerpt<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I opened my eyes and instantly squeezed them
closed again as a bright light blinded me. I placed my arm over my eyes and
turned onto my side, trying to put my back between the disturbing brightness
and my face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Good morning.” Ty chuckled. “I see you’ve
also discovered we’re lucky enough to have woken up to a bright, sunny day.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I carefully squinted through one half-opened
eye at Ty, who also lay on his side, his head resting on his arm and his beautiful
eyes fixed on me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“A bit too bright for my liking,” I grumbled.
“Especially this early in the morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ty laughed. “I hate to disillusion you, but
the morning has come and gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“What?” I wasn’t awake enough to figure out
what he meant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Leaning forward, he kissed me. “It’s quarter
to one, Ben. We slept the morning away.” His lips found mine again. “It’s
hardly surprising since it was after three last night when we actually got
here, but unless we’re going to spend the whole day in bed, we should probably
get up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I opened my mouth to tell Ty that staying in
bed all day, with him, didn’t seem like a hardship to me when I remembered
exactly where we were. Pushing away the covers, I sat up and turned toward the
light source that had disturbed me moments earlier. It turned out to be a large
floor-to-ceiling window with a door leading onto a balcony. Without thinking
about it I got up, approached the door, opened it, and stepped outside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Fuck, it’s cold.” I jumped back into the
room a mere second after my bare feet touched the snow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ty, who had apparently also left our very
comfortable bed, sniggered behind me. “I would have thought the white stuff
might have warned you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah, yeah. Very funny.” I bent down and
snatched a handful of snow before closing the door and turning to Ty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oh, no, you don’t.” He took a step back, but
wasn’t fast enough to stop me from grabbing his upper arm, pulling him close
and rubbing the already melting snow over his exposed chest. His squeal when
the icy substance connected with his nipple was adorable. The thoughts entering
my head when it pebbled under my thumb, had little to do with his cute
exclamation. Pressing into him, I pushed him backwards until his calves hit the
bed. One more firm push and he lay sprawled out in front of me, a red hue to
his chest and his boxer shorts tenting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">With a growl, I dropped forward, making sure
to hold my descent with my hands before I crashed into him. Heat, need, and a
sense of coming home rushed through me as our bodies fully connected. It had
been months since I’d experienced this exhilarating connection. Love burned in
my heart, my body yearned for his touch, and my hands itched to reacquaint
themselves with every inch of his glorious body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Capturing his mouth, I pushed my tongue between
his lips, demanding entrance. For a few short moments, he went along, our
tongues alternately caressing and attacking. Then he turned his head.
“Shouldn’t we shower first, brush our teeth? It’s been more than twenty-four
hours.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t care. If we’re both disgusting, we
probably won’t notice.” I trailed kisses, licks, and nips from his ear to his
mouth, determined not to be denied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ty gave up the fight, shaking his head at my
insistence while the smile tugging at the lips I wanted to devour and the delight
shining from his eyes, told me that he didn’t mind at all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Welcome back,” he whispered against my lips
before we lost ourselves in a long, sensuous kiss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Moments later both of us had somehow lost our
underwear. His hard cock rested on his belly, mine right beside it. As I rutted
into him, our combined pre-cum made the movements slicker and more carnal with
each push.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Gliding against him, feeling, seeing, and
hearing Ty’s arousal, falling into the depths of his gorgeous eyes woke
something up, deep inside me. A door that had been pulled shut and locked when
my dad lost his fight, and had refused to budge in the subsequent weeks, now
opened a crack, showing me there might be a way back for me after all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ty bucked up against me, adding an extra
spark to the heat building between us. I wasn’t going to last long, and judging
by the sounds falling from his lips, neither was Ty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Together,” he breathed against my lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Almost.” I only just got the word out, too
far gone to articulate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Then I was there. My body stiffened before
the release coursed through me. “Ty!” For a moment my mind went blank. </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";">My
body was the whole universe, with a supernova shining bright in its centre,
bringing light to where previously only darkness existed.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ty followed me a moment
later, hanging on to me for dear life as his release mingled with mine on our
bellies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And,
just in case you haven’t read </span><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Valentine’s love</i></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> yet, here are all the details:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Valentine’s Love #1<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">15k approx. / 53 pages <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Price: $0.99 / £0.99<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Buy
links: <a href="file:///C:/Users/meent/Documents/My%20Writings/VALENTINE'S%20DAY/2019/mybook.to/ValentinesLove">Universal</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079WKFNH7/">Amazon US</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079WKFNH7/">Amazon UK</a><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Available
to read in KU</span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-41611432854747282962019-02-11T19:30:00.000+00:002019-02-15T16:47:00.164+00:00Happy Valentine's Day<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Happy Valentine’s Day</span></b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Okay, I’m three days early, but really, is there ever a
reason not to be in the mood for love? I’m delighted to be taking part in the
BE MINE Valentine’s Day Bash in Ana Newfolk’s wonderful FB group - Café Lima.
The party started Saturday and won’t end until Valentine’s Day itself, so if
you haven’t joined the fun yet, there’s still plenty of time to do so. You can
join Ana’s group here: </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/208814836439843/" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">https://www.facebook.com/groups/208814836439843/</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As part of the festivities and as a special treat for our
readers, the participants in this event have all penned a Valentine’s Day flash
fiction featuring a favourite couple from one of their previously published
books. These flashes will be bundled in an e-book which will be made available for
FREE, probably on February 14<sup>th</sup>, but stay tuned for further updates.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And, while your waiting for the collection, each
participating author will share their own flash during the bash in Ana's readers' group.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My flash can
be found below and features a couple I first introduced last Christmas. I hope
you’ll enjoy spending a bit more time with Mitch and Cian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This
short flash revisits Mitch and Cian from <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">A
Miracle in the Library</b> and is an interlude falling between that Christmas
story and the St. Patrick’s Day novella I hope to publish mid-March.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mitch checked the clock. No, he wasn’t
imagining things. He really was hungry. He could usually set his watch by his
mother’s routine and dinner was never later than a quarter to seven. Except now
it was half past.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He sniffed the air, frowning when he
encountered no mouth-watering aromas. Bemused, he got up from the couch he’d
been lounging on and walked to the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Ma?” Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t
his mother sitting at the breakfast bar, reading a book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She put her finger on the page, then
looked up at him. “Yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Are we even having dinner tonight?”
Mitch was struggling to keep a handle on his temper. It was frustrating enough
that he couldn’t spend Valentine’s Day with his boyfriend. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Just my luck that it has to fall on a Thursday.</i> With Mitch in the
final year of secondary school and Cian in college in Dublin, a midweek
get-together just wasn’t in the cards. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Not
even on Valentine’s Day. Not even with my first-ever boyfriend.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">His mother gave him one of her infamous
patient smiles, the ones she gave when she thought he was being especially
dim-witted. “All in its own good time, my lad.” Her smile changed, turning
almost evil. “Don’t worry. You’ll get fed.” She lowered her gaze and continued
reading.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The situation was so unusual Mitch had
no idea what to say, so he returned to the living room. Here he was, eighteen
at last and stuck at home while others celebrated love. Frustrated, he
extracted his phone from his pocket and swiped the screen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">No new messages. Mitch’s mood dipped
further.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They had exchanged texts earlier, but
for the past two hours, there’d been no sign of life from Cian. Mitch’s message
was still the last in their thread.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Fuck, I wish we could spend the evening together.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Had he at last gone too far? Been too
needy? He wistfully reflected that he could do with another visit from Klaus
Nichols. Except this time he needed a Valentine’s Day miracle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Feeling sorry for himself, he leaned
back into the soft cushion and closed his eyes. All he wanted was to spend
Valentine’s Day with his boyfriend. Surely that wasn’t unreasonable? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No, but it is impossible.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The sound of the doorbell chiming
through the house had him sitting up straight. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Visitors?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Would you get that, Mitch?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Sure.” As he walked to the door, Mitch
wondered if whoever was visiting was the reason they hadn’t eaten yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mitch pulled the door open, curious who
he would find on the other side, looked up and….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Hey.” Cian’s gaze didn’t quite meet
Mitch’s, and his smile was almost bashful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mitch looked over his shoulder in the
direction of the kitchen before facing Cian again. “You…her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Cian shrugged. “I thought we could have
pizza together. But it’s a school night, so I checked with your ma first.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Bastards,” Mitch muttered, unable to
suppress his delighted grin. He closed the distance between them, lifted his
chin, and kissed Cian. “Pizza sounds good. Let me get my coat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mitch’s heart sang as he stuck out his
tongue to his ma before shrugging into his coat and walking away from the house
with Cian…his boyfriend…on Valentine’s Day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As stated above, this flash takes place about two months after Mitch and Cian
first meet in <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: red;">A Miracle in the Library</span></i></b>. I
realize Christmas has come and gone, but if you are interested in the start of
their story, you can find it here: </span><a href="http://mybook.to/AMITL" target="_blank"><span style="background: white; color: #184c6c; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 150%;">mybook.to/AMITL</span></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the meantime, you might be interested in my latest
release: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #ff6699;">Valentine’s Surprise</span></i></b>, which
is the sequel to last year’s <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #ff66ff;">Valentine’s Love</span>.</i></b>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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is €.99/$.99/£.99.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Buy links Valentine’s Surprise: <a href="http://mybook.to/Valentinesurprise">Universal link</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NK88HVV">Amazon US</a> |
<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07NK88HVV">Amazon UK</a><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Buy links Valentine's Love: <a href="http://mybook.to/ValentinesLove">Universal Link</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079WKFNH7/">Amazon US</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079WKFNH7/">Amazon UK</a></span></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-3238658549806225162019-02-11T12:00:00.000+00:002019-02-11T12:00:58.000+00:00Careful What You Wish For - FREE!!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuPutwdn7MFfF1FKC7zsXkOKEn3fv9Kcs6LTQfmAlSou4GvC-mIOQuK7bJ4-DeLrlzdDF0tr5_4BJTqMLiqGZbluTf_yumTt5Ohhk43SkLn4JUAbtVFrhaQexOn5vEn2jMRsrAvCIKLvt/s1600/Careful+What+You+Wish+For.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="313" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuPutwdn7MFfF1FKC7zsXkOKEn3fv9Kcs6LTQfmAlSou4GvC-mIOQuK7bJ4-DeLrlzdDF0tr5_4BJTqMLiqGZbluTf_yumTt5Ohhk43SkLn4JUAbtVFrhaQexOn5vEn2jMRsrAvCIKLvt/s640/Careful+What+You+Wish+For.jpg" width="420" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have absolutely no idea how or why it happened, but apparently <b><i>Careful What You Wish For</i></b> is FREE on Amazon at the moment. Since I also don't know how long this book will remain FREE, I'd advice you to pick it up as soon as possible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Blurb</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">All Josh has ever wanted is to submit to another man; to give all of himself, completely, without reservation.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">For the past six months Josh has been chatting with and submitting to Pascal online, and this evening his dream of doing the same in person, is about to come true.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Will Pascal be everything Josh imagines or is he about to learn that wishes can be dangerous?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>Buy links: <a href="http://mybook.to/CWYWF">Universal</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07K6TKVXQ">Amazon US</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07K6TKVXQ">Amazon UK</a></b></span></span></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-42623137543670443182018-11-28T13:57:00.000+00:002018-11-28T13:57:19.682+00:00A Miracle in the Library - Out Today!!!<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: center;">A Miracle in the Library
and an Abundance of Inspiration</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The writing of </span><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><i>A
Miracle in the Library</i></b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> was exactly that: a miracle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I already had a
Christmas story releasing with Dreamspinner Press this December (more
information to follow shortly) and had no intention of writing another one,
until one day early November, while I was in the middle of working on something
else, inspiration struck with such force, I couldn’t not write the book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">What inspired me you
ask? Well, quite a few things in fact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The setting in <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A
Miracle in the Library</i></b> is pretty much a carbon copy of the
old-fashioned, part-time library I work in one afternoon every other week. As
the pictures show, the one room holds nothing except books, a collection of
chairs, and a desk for the librarian. I had to modify the place a tiny bit to
make it a better fit for my miracle, but it’s safe to say both the library and
its location in the book are firmly based on my bi-weekly reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">While I don’t name
them, I had two very specific books in mind for Mitch to read while visiting
the library. Having read both of them myself, I highly recommend these books
for younger people coming to terms with who they are, of course, but also for
all others wanting to gain insight into what that might mean. I reviewed one of
them some time ago, and you can find my thoughts here: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="https://helenasheat.blogspot.com/2014/09/this-book-is-gay-byjames-dawson.html">This
Book is Gay</a></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Mr. Nichols, as
described A Miracle in the Library, had the face, kindness, and wisdom of my
good friend Tim O’Rahilly from the moment he sprang to life in my mind. The image
below gives you a good idea why.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And last but by no
means least, there is this video. Yes, I’m well aware it is an advert for an
alcoholic beverage but, while I’ve been known to indulge on occasion, that is
not the point here. Panti Bliss, in this short clip, says exactly what I’ve
been hoping to convey in my story. Why don’t you take a look?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Seventeen-year-old
Mitch McCann has been trying to dodge his bullies for eighteen months. He isn’t
out, but that hasn’t stopped the popular gang at school from tormenting him for
being gay. Three weeks before Christmas, in a desperate attempt to shake his
pursuers, Mitch flees into the abandoned community hall, only to discover the
building is far from empty; inside he finds a fully stocked library as well as
Mr. Nichols, the very welcoming librarian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
library turns into Mitch’s refuge of choice, where he can read books that
answer his endless questions, without fear of encountering abuse. His peace of
mind is shattered when nineteen-year-old Cian Leavy enters his sanctuary. Cian
is the boy who made Mitch realize he’s gay, and he’s more attractive now than
he was eighteen months ago, when Mitch literally ran into him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Will Cian
unwittingly disrupt Mitch’s life again? Or has the scene been set for a miracle
in the library?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Buy Links:</span></b><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> <a href="http://mybook.to/AMITL">Universal AmazonLink</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KXQ78PW">Amazon US</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07KXQ78PW">Amazon UK</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Available to read in KU<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-81845871054265130622018-09-26T08:00:00.000+01:002018-09-26T08:00:03.307+01:00Happy Release Day to All or Nothing!!!!!!!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwQBhCrFutHPXWPTKdNo5r4SOoDe4nUDuPZAatXpfx6xdHqIvRtp2xkHJf1428MzAWNRTssVgm82bZ1nuBUPbcLt9ySjfSq9c6pF-4dKLlVbnD9bNSnQq7hh_eMtwxSUBxmw8E8Fbzszi/s1600/allornothing-ebook-FINAL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwQBhCrFutHPXWPTKdNo5r4SOoDe4nUDuPZAatXpfx6xdHqIvRtp2xkHJf1428MzAWNRTssVgm82bZ1nuBUPbcLt9ySjfSq9c6pF-4dKLlVbnD9bNSnQq7hh_eMtwxSUBxmw8E8Fbzszi/s640/allornothing-ebook-FINAL.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">To
celebrate the fact that </span><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><i>All or Nothing</i></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> is now available on
Amazon and in KU I’m sharing a second excerpt from the book. It only seems fair
to introduce you to Amber this time. (If you missed the post introducing
Hector, you can find him </span><a href="http://helenastone.blogspot.com/2018/09/all-or-nothing-pre-order-discount.html" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">here</a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">.)</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Blurb<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If she’s not good enough
for all of him, she’d rather have none.</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Forty-one-year-old Hector Kelly has lived the BDSM
lifestyle all his adult life, but the recent influx of inexperienced and
starry-eyed young women has killed its</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> luster</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> for him. When he reluctantly accompanies his best
friend to The Dark Cellar during an open night, he is not surprised when he has
to rescue a clueless young woman from a predatory Dom. Against his better
judgment, he spends the rest of the night showing the gorgeous Amber around the
club.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Until she entered The Dark Cellar,
twenty-one-year-old Amber Sommerville was convinced BDSM only existed between
the covers of her</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> favorite</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> romance novels. As Hector introduces her to this
unknown world, everything she sees awakens desires she’s never experienced
before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
attraction between Hector and Amber is as instant as it is undeniable. But with
an almost twenty-year age difference between them and Hector’s conviction that
Amber is too young both for him and to know whether or not she wants to submit,
their developing relationship remains purely vanilla—for the most part. When
Amber witnesses Hector in full Dom mode, she recognizes that he’s been holding
back and sets him an ultimatum: either he fully commits all of himself to their
relationship or she’ll leave. If Hector wants to hang on to the woman who has
captured his heart, he’ll have to reassess his preconceived notions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Excerpt<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“You’re
serious?” Amber knew her <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">laugh</span> sounded
nervous, but she couldn’t stop it from escaping her mouth. When the masked man
had first walked up to her and told her to kneel, she’d thought it was a joke,
orchestrated by her sister. It would have been just like Sinead and her mates
to do something like that. <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">Now, she wasn’t so
sure.</span> Whoever this was, he clearly expected her to kneel before him. He
was in for one hell of a disappointment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Very
serious. Did you really think you could walk into a BDSM club and not obey the
rules?” Anger or something very close to it vibrated off the man, and for the
first time since he’d approached her, Amber felt a stab of fear. Not that she’d
show him her feelings. She lifted her chin and relished the surprise she
thought she recognized on what she could see of his face when she looked him
straight in the eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’ve
no intention of kneeling for anyone, least of all you.” It took all her
strength not to flinch when he raised his hand. She’d no idea if he planned on
striking her or just wanted to force her to her knees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“That’s
enough, Carlos.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
deep, calm <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">voice</span> coming from behind her
startled Amber. She wanted to turn around and discover who it belonged <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">to,</span> but knew she couldn’t afford to take her
eyes off the man in front of her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Said
man in front of her—Carlos apparently—frowned for a moment, as if confused, as
he glanced over her shoulder. “Hector, this has nothing to do with you. Leave
us alone to sort this out.” The masked man returned his steely-eyed attention
to Amber.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“It
does when you’re determined to give all of us a bad name.” The warm voice
touched something deep in Amber. She was no damsel in distress and hated
relying on others, but she couldn’t help being grateful for the help. She’d no
idea what sort of trouble she’d gotten herself into. Which meant she didn’t
know how to get herself out of it either.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
anger Amber’d thought she recognized in Carlos’s eyes transformed into fury,
and for the first time since he’d addressed her, he fully focused on somebody
other than her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Stay
out of this. I won’t tell you again. Who do you think you are? You disappear
for years, and then you presume you can tell me how to behave. Go back to
wherever you’ve been hiding and leave this to us <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">real</span> men.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Look
at her wrist, Carlos. You’re right. You shouldn’t need me to explain how this
works.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Amber
glanced at her wrist and the white armband they’d told her to wear when she’d
entered the club with the other girls. Apparently, it wasn’t just proof of
admission.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“A
white armband. I know. I saw that immediately. Doesn’t mean the girl shouldn’t
know how to behave.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Amber’s
temper rose. She didn’t enjoy being the subject of a conversation she didn’t
appear to have a role in. She opened her mouth, although she’d no idea what she
wanted to <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">say,</span> when the sonorous voice
behind her beat her to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“That’s
<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">exactly</span> what it means, Carlos. I don’t
like these open nights either, but that’s what this is, and as a result, most
people here right now don’t even know there are rules, never mind what they
might be. Leave the girl alone and find yourself an experienced submissive.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Suddenly,
it all came together for Amber. Now, she understood why her sister—the bride to
be—and her friends had giggled as much as they had when they’d entered the
club. She’d read about submissives. She almost smiled but remembered the dicey
situation she found herself in just in time. She enjoyed reading about Doms and
those who submitted to them. She’d somehow failed to translate those works of
fiction into real possibilities. And she’d been slow on the uptake. After all
the books she’d read, she should have recognized this club for what it was—far
more than “just” a sexy nightclub.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Lost
in her thoughts, it took Amber a moment before she became aware of the staring
contest taking place between Carlos and the man behind her. The urge to turn
around and find out who he was had grown stronger, but she still didn’t want to
turn her back on the Dom in front of her. When Carlos gave a small nod before
stalking away, Amber relaxed, her body releasing the tension she hadn’t known
she’d been holding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Thank
you.” Amber turned around as she spoke. Everything else she’d wanted to say
disappeared from her mind as she looked straight into the dark brown eyes of
the man who’d come to her rescue. She tried to figure out what she saw there.
She would have called it kindness except she also detected a note of anger in
his gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“What
were you thinking, girl? Why didn’t you stay with your friends? There’s safety
in numbers.” The anger she’d seen in his eyes didn’t translate to his voice. If
anything, he sounded resigned, exasperated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Amber thought for a moment. It was true;
she hadn’t meant to create a problem, hadn’t known she might when she allowed
the rest of their party to move on while she’d studied her surroundings. “I
didn’t know I shouldn’t be on my own. I mean, they never said anything when we
came in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“How
did you end up here anyway?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Something
bristled inside Amber before subsiding again. She didn’t mind answering his
questions, just as she hadn’t been upset when she picked up on his anger. It
didn’t make sense, because she wasn’t in the habit of letting others tell her what
to do or allowing them to interrogate her, but she didn’t question her
instinct.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“It’s
my sister’s hen party. One of her friends suggested this club.” As she spoke,
she remembered the <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">looks</span> Maeve—the friend
in question—had exchanged with Mary, another friend. She hadn’t thought
anything about it at the time, but now, she realized they’d known <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">exactly</span> what they would be leading the rest of
them into. “Sinead, my sister, was already very drunk by then and appeared to
be eager to visit a club...any club. I just tagged along.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She’d
resented that. Sure, she was a few years younger than the rest of the party,
but she wasn’t a child anymore. She’d bitten her tongue all through the evening
as Maeve and some of the others had belittled her. Sinead had defended her
earlier on in the evening, but as people kept on pouring drinks into her, she’d
soon lost contact with reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“But
you didn’t stay with them when they moved to the other side of the club?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His
question took her by surprise. How did he know where the others had gone? She
looked around until she spotted them on the far side of the dance floor and
nearly groaned out loud. It was impossible to miss her sister. Sinead stood on
a table in only her underwear and the veil she’d put on earlier. A blush crept
up Amber’s neck and cheeks as she wondered what this man might think of her and
her sister.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Ah,
I think I understand.” The man’s low chuckle took her by surprise and allowed
her to relax again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yes,
well. What can I say? I don’t like getting drunk, and I’m not overly fond of
some of my sister’s friends. Letting them go on without me for a while seemed
like a good idea. If I’d known I’d cause trouble in the process...” She thought
for a moment before deciding she had nothing to lose. “Besides, there’s so much
to look at here. I had to stop and take it all in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She
allowed her gaze to roam the club again and only barely repressed the shiver of
excitement threatening to run down her spine as she observed more people
kneeling on the floor at the feet of others. A girl she’d noticed getting down
to her knees earlier was now on her feet, following the man who, Amber assumed,
had to be her Dom toward closed double doors on the far side of the room, her
head slightly bowed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She
felt her rescuer’s gaze on her and tore her attention back to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“By
the way, I’m Amber Sommerville. Thank you for stepping in just now. I had no
idea how to deal with that man.” Again, she noticed something in his eyes she
couldn’t name.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Hector
Kelly.” He took the hand she offered and held it slightly longer than she’d
expected. “You should either join your sister or go home, Amber. This is no
place for young women on their own.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oh
no.” She laughed. “I’ve no intention of going yet. I want to see more. I’ve
only read about places like this. I never believed they really existed, never <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">mind</span> could be found in Dublin. Now that I’m
here, I want to discover how much of what I considered fiction is in fact real.
And I want to know what’s on the other side of those doors.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She’d
no idea how she knew, but she’d no doubt Hector disapproved of her plans. His
expression hadn’t changed, <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">and</span> yet she
could almost feel his frustration. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tough.</i>
She was grateful he’d helped her out of a tricky situation, but it didn’t give
him the right to tell her how to spend the rest of her evening. It was a shame
though. She would have loved to get to know him better but not if it meant
allowing him to make her decisions for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Thank
you again, Hector. I’m just going to have a look around before I join the
others again.” She took a few moments <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">to really
look at him</span>. The slight stutter in her heartbeat took her by surprise,
and she dismissed it. Hector was very attractive—not far removed from her image
of the ideal man in fact—and he was bossy, which should have been <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">off-putting</span> but, strangely enough, didn’t
actually bother her. It was a shame she’d probably never see him again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
moment she saw him take a deep breath, she turned and walked toward the half-hidden
doors at the back of the club. She didn’t want to hear why he thought she
should leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Book Details<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Release Date:
September 26, 2018<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Pairing: MF<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Length 61k words
approx.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Universal buy link: </span><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://mybook.to/AoN" target="_blank"><span style="background: white; color: #184c6c; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">mybook.to/AoN</span></a></span><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">All or Nothing is available
in KU and as a paperback.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh9-RFtS224bXG9977j7RbfbLEn3KX8zX77cjGVHmmOBD8q-qSFIz1wsgdLw0H70UFXYkPPonZMIPWvDcooExsTlgbvZsvO-pKoAW5_hlZmth-xS3GPqPkBMYwaBJkNtvIvd0oea-Ale-p/s1600/AoN+3D+Covers+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="874" data-original-width="1206" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh9-RFtS224bXG9977j7RbfbLEn3KX8zX77cjGVHmmOBD8q-qSFIz1wsgdLw0H70UFXYkPPonZMIPWvDcooExsTlgbvZsvO-pKoAW5_hlZmth-xS3GPqPkBMYwaBJkNtvIvd0oea-Ale-p/s400/AoN+3D+Covers+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-67489654204416455002018-09-21T20:29:00.000+01:002018-09-21T20:29:12.694+01:00All or Nothing - Pre-Order Discount<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0O0FmRb5kVJTULLTUhNe3Tzf6-bXyCVum49C6eehkgLw4vn4OdYaHH24_6Fb75f3veZh7YPS7zJoA3yw1mPlQ3rU5wfVPULVEEAFTdjgl0FEBbaEoiyhICkQnXEsye3RXfvFaJi1Hm-hh/s1600/Preorder+%2524.99.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="1024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0O0FmRb5kVJTULLTUhNe3Tzf6-bXyCVum49C6eehkgLw4vn4OdYaHH24_6Fb75f3veZh7YPS7zJoA3yw1mPlQ3rU5wfVPULVEEAFTdjgl0FEBbaEoiyhICkQnXEsye3RXfvFaJi1Hm-hh/s400/Preorder+%2524.99.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">All or
Nothing</span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">,
the first book in the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #1f4e79; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 128;">Blowhole Series</span></b><span style="color: #1f4e79; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 128;"> </span>will be
released on September 26<sup>th</sup>. Until that date, the book will be
available for preorder for $.99. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With the
launch date is less than a week away, I thought you might want to know a little
more about the story. Below you’ll find the blurb as well as an excerpt
introducing Hector Kelly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On
September 26 I’ll share an excerpt introducing Amber, so don’t forget to keep
an eye on my blog.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Enjoy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Blurb<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If she’s not good
enough for all of him, she’d rather have none.</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Forty-one-year-old Hector Kelly has lived the BDSM
lifestyle all his adult life, but the recent influx of inexperienced and
starry-eyed young women has killed its</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> luster</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> for him. When he reluctantly accompanies his best
friend to The Dark Cellar during an open night, he is not surprised when he has
to rescue a clueless young woman from a predatory Dom. Against his better
judgment, he spends the rest of the night showing the gorgeous Amber around the
club.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Until she entered The Dark Cellar,
twenty-one-year-old Amber Sommerville was convinced BDSM only existed between
the covers of her</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> favorite</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> romance novels. As Hector introduces her to this
unknown world, everything she sees awakens desires she’s never experienced
before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
attraction between Hector and Amber is as instant as it is undeniable. But with
an almost twenty-year age difference between them and Hector’s conviction that
Amber is too young both for him and to know whether or not she wants to submit,
their developing relationship remains purely vanilla—for the most part. When
Amber witnesses Hector in full Dom mode, she recognizes that he’s been holding
back and sets him an ultimatum: either he fully commits all of himself to their
relationship or she’ll leave. If Hector wants to hang on to the woman who has
captured his heart, he’ll have to reassess his preconceived notions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ1E0QbeIKxOo4RsWNBfvGVsnOmWNb7kQ6Tryaht0RRxp1WYTX8HgQ1UIWB-3xTDOcHXkBtTAZatfACj-pAju3AdE_fALnHKTuRGqCUvTB1i_bGfDxRzImSjKzygYXqLh6m7r-BrrvqPsy/s1600/allornothing-ebook-FINAL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ1E0QbeIKxOo4RsWNBfvGVsnOmWNb7kQ6Tryaht0RRxp1WYTX8HgQ1UIWB-3xTDOcHXkBtTAZatfACj-pAju3AdE_fALnHKTuRGqCUvTB1i_bGfDxRzImSjKzygYXqLh6m7r-BrrvqPsy/s400/allornothing-ebook-FINAL.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Excerpt<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Jaysus,
man, you could at least pretend you’re enjoying yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Hector
continued to study the crowd in front of him, reacquainting himself with the
club he hadn’t visited in a long time, while contemplating how to answer his
friend. The Dark Cellar hadn’t changed much. The large space still mostly
resembled a luxurious private club. Nothing in the furniture, covered in red
and black faux leather, or the layout indicated the true nature of the
establishment or its members. If it hadn’t been for the revealing nature of the
attire and the provocative behavior of the majority of people surrounding them,
it would be easy to conclude this was nothing more or less than an upmarket
nightclub.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Hector
reluctantly turned away from the crowd he’d been studying and faced his friend.
“You knew I didn’t want to come here tonight, Paul. There’s no point
complaining about my lack of enthusiasm now.” He tried to keep his voice
pleasant. Paul was a good mate and had been for years. Hector didn’t want to
upset him but, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fuck</i>, if it hadn’t
been for Paul pestering him for over a week about coming out, he’d be at home
now with a nice glass of wine and a good book. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And alone.</i> Hector swallowed the sigh wanting to escape and forced
the frown off his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
still don’t get what your problem is.” The bewildered look on Paul’s face
emphasized the confusion in his voice. “This is our world, has been for years.
Why are you all of a sudden reluctant to immerse yourself?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Hector
lifted his glass to his lips and drank deeply from his whiskey. His second
glass. He almost smiled. Two drinks ensured he wouldn’t be allowed to indulge
himself, even if he were to change his mind. It wasn’t likely, but it didn’t
hurt to make sure he wouldn’t stray beyond being a spectator.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He
felt Paul’s scrutiny despite trying to ignore his friend. They’d known each
other too long for the man not to be able to read him like a book. Even the ten
years Hector had spent in London hadn’t been able to break the bond between
them. Paul had visited Hector at least once a year. They’d been to clubs
together there. And Hector knew he’d never displayed any reluctance until now,
so Paul’s confusion was both reasonable and understandable. Hector just wasn’t
sure how to explain to his friend that his enthusiasm for the scene had taken a
serious nosedive ever since popular fiction had pulled all sorts of wannabees
with unrealistic expectations to the scene. It wasn’t that he had a problem
with the nature of the club he found himself in; far from it. This was in his
blood, and he’d doubted that could ever change. It was just <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">…</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He
allowed his gaze to roam the large room they were in and frowned when he saw
the group of young women enter. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A
bleeding hen party</i>. That was exactly what he didn’t like. Those girls were
here not because they had an interest in BDSM but because they were drunk and
wanted to do something outside their comfort zone. They were here to ogle
things they didn’t understand, and they’d spend the next few weeks or months
giggling about collars, floggers, and people kneeling for others; making fun of
what for him and numerous others was a way of life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He
turned to Paul. His friend deserved an explanation, of course. It wasn’t just
that he’d accepted Paul’s invitation to come out tonight and should, <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">therefore,</span> have the decency to at least try and
be good company. Since Paul now worked here part-time, both as a supervisor and
as part of the security team, it actually made sense to explain his reasoning
to him. He just didn’t want to do it here and now. “Can we leave it be, Paul? I
really do not want to get into it, especially not while I have to shout to make
myself heard.” Hector didn’t even try to relax his facial muscles, unconcerned
that his irritation was plain to read for anybody paying attention. If they’d
come here on any other night, he would more than likely have been able to lose
himself in the habits of a lifetime. He hated these open nights. Why did clubs
feel the need to invite the uninitiated? It was a recipe for disaster, and he’d
seen it go wrong often enough not to want to be part of it anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Will
you relax? That scowl on your face is enough to scare me off, never mind
anybody else.” Impatience had crept into Paul’s voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m
sorry.” Hector turned and gave Paul his full attention—his friend deserved better
from him, no matter how reluctant he might be. “This <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">setup</span> gets on my nerves. I’ve seen it go horrifically wrong in
London; I don’t want to see it again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“What
do you mean? What did you see?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“A
few weeks before I left London, I was in what used to be my favorite club during
one of these open nights. A group of girls like those”—Hector nodded toward the
girls grouped around the young woman wearing a veil to indicate her upcoming
wedding—“walked in, and one of them caught the attention of a visiting Dom. He
expected certain things. She’d no idea what she was dealing with. Nobody
interfered because nobody realized she was in trouble until it was too late.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Hector
stared at the hen party again as most of the women walked across the club to
the bar while one of them, a gorgeous redhead, stood rooted to the spot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“They
asked her <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">afterwards</span> why she hadn’t used
her safeword. Only then did it become clear she’d no idea what a safeword was
or that she could have used it to end what that man was doing to her.” Hector
stopped talking and looked at Paul. Did his friend understand? After he’d
witnessed that debacle, Hector had vowed he’d steer clear of the uninitiated.
Not visiting clubs <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">on the nights</span> they
allowed the vanillas inside was part of that promise to himself. A promise he’d
broken tonight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Listen,
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil your evening. I’ll go home now. Invite me
along again when they have a members-only night. I’m not going to be able to
relax tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Hector
saw the disappointment on his friend’s face. He’d no doubt Paul had been
looking forward to their first night out since Hector had come back from
London. He wished he could fake it, but all his instincts screamed at him to
leave. His nerves were on edge, waiting for something to go wrong. The state he
was in, he wasn’t <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">good</span> company. Relief
flooded him when Paul nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Fair
enough. I’ll call you tomorrow to tell you how misplaced your worries were.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Hector
smiled his first real smile of the evening. He was a lucky man to have a friend
like Paul. It was rare to find someone who trusted you completely and allowed
you to be yourself. Ten years of living in different countries hadn’t changed
that dynamic, and it was a minor miracle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As
Hector walked to the exit, his attention shifted to the beautiful young woman
he’d seen earlier. She’d barely moved from the spot where her friends had left
her. She looked around and seemed to be drinking in the sights surrounding her.
He glanced at her arm and saw the white band circling the slim wrist. At least,
this club, unlike the one in London, had the foresight to make the guests
distinguishable from the lifestylers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He
was barely aware of slowing down as he allowed his gaze to drink in her beauty.
<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">Whoever she</span> was, she looked stunning. Her
red hair curled freely around her face and tumbled down her back. The short
black dress she wore was tight and emphasized her well-formed breasts and long,
slim legs. He was amazed she’d been able to stand there for as long as she had
without attracting attention. He tried to figure out what she might be looking
at with such a fascinated expression on her face and wasn’t surprised when his
gaze came to rest on an <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">almost</span> naked
woman kneeling next to a black-clad Dom who caressed his sub’s hair while
conducting a conversation with two other men.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He
stopped walking while he considered her reaction to the scene. She might be
what he considered an innocent, but, unlike <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">most</span>
he’d met in the past, she didn’t look shocked or disgusted. He had to give her
that. Just for a moment, he played with the thought of approaching her before
mentally kicking himself and resuming his journey to the door. He’d already
broken one promise to himself by coming here on an open night; he wasn’t about
to break another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A
few meters away from the exit, Hector turned to look at the beautiful redhead
one more time. It was ridiculous; she was barely more than a child. She had to
be at least twenty-one to have been allowed to enter, but she couldn’t possibly
be much older. Much too young for him, even if he hadn’t sworn to stay away
from curious vanillas like her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Hector
suppressed a self-deprecating smile and was about to continue his journey to
the exit when a masked man in a dark, expensive-looking suit approaching the
girl pulled him up short. Without thinking about it, Hector walked toward the
pair. Of all the Doms to approach her, it had to be Carlos. He remembered the
man, and the memories weren’t good. Carlos had always taken arrogance to a new
and previously unseen level. If the mask he was wearing now was any indication,
that attitude hadn’t improved over the years. Hector had no doubt, and his
blood ran cold; he was about to see his worst fears come true. The girl didn’t
stand a chance against this particular Dom. His suspicions were confirmed when
he caught most of Carlos’ sentence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“... told you to kneel. Don’t you know
how to behave, girl?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaescVHne1zGKrGg_04JLDUg4qbHRUvYezam1E40-c-eBALVy4EbS9arYwNTeiDAIQx63w7Waqmlim1v8fQR93BjUUQzSzGN34gqoM2UGLYPitgl4UPkbnT3PiqLkRuUnMhW2ker5HlFG/s1600/allornothing-socialmediapatch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="612" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaescVHne1zGKrGg_04JLDUg4qbHRUvYezam1E40-c-eBALVy4EbS9arYwNTeiDAIQx63w7Waqmlim1v8fQR93BjUUQzSzGN34gqoM2UGLYPitgl4UPkbnT3PiqLkRuUnMhW2ker5HlFG/s320/allornothing-socialmediapatch.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Book Details</span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Release Date:
September 26, 2018<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Pairing: MF</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Length 61k words
approx.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Universal
pre-order/buy link: </span><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://mybook.to/AoN" target="_blank"><span style="background: white; color: #184c6c; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">mybook.to/AoN</span></a></span></b><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">All or Nothing will be
available in KU and as a paperback.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-71369133661456647872018-09-06T22:35:00.000+01:002018-09-06T22:36:55.054+01:00Going Back to My Roots – and The Blowhole<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Round
about this time five years ago, online friends challenged me to write a book
during NaNoWriMo. Fully expecting to crash to a hold after two chapters I
started typing and, much to my astonishment, had a completely first draft
twenty days into November.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Getting the
story published took another fourteen months, but, in February 2015 <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Little
Rainbows</i></b> was released by Totally Bound Publishing. Even before that
happened,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my beta readers informed
me that I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had</i> to write about Hector
and Amber, two secondary characters in <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Little Rainbows</i></b>, and specifically,
how they ended up together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It took me
a few years but I eventually got there. On September 26, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">All or Nothing</i></b> will be
released on Amazon. Because this book is technically a prequel to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Little
Rainbows</i></b> it can be read as a stand-alone and/or as a first in series.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">With this
book I’ve come full circle. Not only have I returned to a world I created years
ago, I’ve also gone back to an MF pairing. I have to admit that both reunions
were joyful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwRz2ZkmpipKoQxGeVKSS-BNPF1HOwdVrg8iD0tZ9oGZ5LGD6kX2MyFn_AFILCZl2wYM9629CA0pM8B5eJj_3aj1vNTqIrZIqWnqWEqEfNe3nWONg9dtGw4m7fqOu8xc9RWAEZES-aS8x/s1600/allornothing-ebook-FINAL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwRz2ZkmpipKoQxGeVKSS-BNPF1HOwdVrg8iD0tZ9oGZ5LGD6kX2MyFn_AFILCZl2wYM9629CA0pM8B5eJj_3aj1vNTqIrZIqWnqWEqEfNe3nWONg9dtGw4m7fqOu8xc9RWAEZES-aS8x/s640/allornothing-ebook-FINAL.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">All or Nothing –
Blurb<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">If she’s
not good enough for all of him, she’d rather have none.</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Forty-one-year-old
Hector Kelly has lived the BDSM lifestyle all his adult life, but the recent
influx of inexperienced and starry-eyed young women has killed its</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> luster</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> for him. When he
reluctantly accompanies his best friend to The Dark Cellar during an open
night, he is not surprised when he has to rescue a clueless young woman from a
predatory Dom. Against his better judgment, he spends the rest of the night
showing the gorgeous Amber around the club.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Until
she entered The Dark Cellar, twenty-one-year-old Amber Sommerville was
convinced BDSM only existed between the covers of her</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> favorite</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> romance novels. As
Hector introduces her to this unknown world, everything she sees awakens
desires she’s never experienced before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The
attraction between Hector and Amber is as instant as it is undeniable. But with
an almost twenty-year age difference between them and Hector’s conviction that
Amber is too young both for him and to know whether or not she wants to submit,
their developing relationship remains purely vanilla—for the most part. When
Amber witnesses Hector in full Dom mode, she recognizes that he’s been holding
back and sets him an ultimatum: either he fully commits all of himself to their
relationship or she’ll leave. If Hector wants to hang on to the woman who has captured
his heart, he’ll have to reassess his preconceived notions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">All
or Nothing will be available in KU and is currently available for pre-order. It
will also be released as a paperback.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Book
Details<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Release Date: September 26, 2018<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Pairing: MF<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Length 61k words approx.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Cover Artist: Emmy Ellis @Studionp</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Pre-order link: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H461WRQ">Amazon US</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07H461WRQ">Amazon UK</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And,
you may want to keep an eye on my website over the next few weeks. I’ll be
sharing excerpts and am also planning a giveaway or two.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-28464537417318551972018-05-13T14:38:00.000+01:002018-05-13T15:03:01.821+01:00Double Dutch Courage – Out Now<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsQGrq0p2CIqc7jixW-U0q5hrskSCU8YWuOHpOHXpM4LndO_JHt5PDGvfRKW0zGFoTZht3s2PvDfUe1Ml9DOR6l95kXfAxUis1iYdcHOjPY-ocCqGXn4nwDqywukhNmMMGQRvvEIEU7LAi/s1600/IAmsterdam+Depositphotos_143952805_m-2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="999" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsQGrq0p2CIqc7jixW-U0q5hrskSCU8YWuOHpOHXpM4LndO_JHt5PDGvfRKW0zGFoTZht3s2PvDfUe1Ml9DOR6l95kXfAxUis1iYdcHOjPY-ocCqGXn4nwDqywukhNmMMGQRvvEIEU7LAi/s400/IAmsterdam+Depositphotos_143952805_m-2015.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">If
you follow me on Facebook (or Twitter, or MeWe) you may have noticed that I
released my new book, </span><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Double Dutch Courage,</i></b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> two days ago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Unlike
my previous full-length novels, this book was self-published, which turned out
to be both a terrifying and exhilarating experience. And, for the first time I’ve
set my story in Amsterdam, the city where I was born and raised. Exciting times
indeed. </span><span style="font-family: "wingdings"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Below
you’ll find all you might want to know about Double Dutch Courage as well as a
new, never before shared, excerpt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIbPAV2x8jWETVXJ4AZwyMlCKjzpgAFppT1xBTo12tuQ3rw2Y8qvLlpM0VKSXQDw9eAjdWG-ltAOTPAg-jUYiRCwY1MleTByBWs6n3zjmwQqC6t-vlOWejXbSNjztiixZErICL18SjUHuE/s1600/Double+Dutch+Courage+%25281563x2500px%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIbPAV2x8jWETVXJ4AZwyMlCKjzpgAFppT1xBTo12tuQ3rw2Y8qvLlpM0VKSXQDw9eAjdWG-ltAOTPAg-jUYiRCwY1MleTByBWs6n3zjmwQqC6t-vlOWejXbSNjztiixZErICL18SjUHuE/s640/Double+Dutch+Courage+%25281563x2500px%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Word count: 63k approx<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cover images: <a href="https://danthedanimal.deviantart.com/">Dan Skinner</a> & Stephen
Cassidy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cover design: <a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.webright.nl%2F&h=ATMA-XGf3Yre-1E6IxOGq7U4zz8J-_AY5M4KfHnzeqF2By0fah_SmHrfEzWlmiM-OrVlDjOld9M90FCFX7ZBhaQDBzp0_aOULmOf3QV3wiVx2b1WlmYP9A">Stephen
Cassidy</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="http://mybook.to/DDC">Universal Buy Link</a><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Blurb</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ronan
Collins has spent most of his life in Dublin hiding who he really is. Coming
out would hurt his mother, and Ronan isn’t going to be the second gay man to do
that. When he receives news the father he has never known has died, leaving him
both a house and a business in Amsterdam, he jumps on the opportunity to get to
know the man who fathered him and to discover what he’s been denying himself
for years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas
Brandt thought he had it all when Paul Kelly offered him a job and rooms to
live in. With Paul deceased he fears he may be about to lose both. He didn’t
even know Paul had a son, and now this stranger is on his way from Dublin to
pull the rug out from under Lucas’s feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
two men don’t expect to like each other, never mind feel attraction. With
numerous reasons why hooking up would be a bad idea, why does giving in feel so
much better? And is Ronan’s back story really as he’s always imagined it to be?
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sudden changes
require great bravery. Can both men find the courage to be true to themselves
and each other? <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5c27wbn-9v0JKL45169gzy4oUokZK6-4nz9RNxH_yHnUdSuKJ4DfJ68spET-k834b8DALgo1JFz_EKZJuFb3I_8C20Re3G2ljOuZyw_iDUoqHp58KJJnFiW1GVfuYs6rVLvWGsft91SI/s1600/Kopstootje+Meme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="1024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5c27wbn-9v0JKL45169gzy4oUokZK6-4nz9RNxH_yHnUdSuKJ4DfJ68spET-k834b8DALgo1JFz_EKZJuFb3I_8C20Re3G2ljOuZyw_iDUoqHp58KJJnFiW1GVfuYs6rVLvWGsft91SI/s400/Kopstootje+Meme.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt</span></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas checked how late it was for the sixth time in the space of twenty
minutes. He hated waiting. He detested it more now than he’d ever done before.
The next hour, day, week — he’d no idea how long it would take — would decide
his immediate future. Everything was up in the air. All he knew for sure was
that his life was no longer in his own hands. Some stranger was about to arrive
and, depending on what that man decided, Lucas’s existence could change beyond
recognition. If it wasn’t for the horrific reality of it he could have been
persuaded it was some cruel April Fool’s Day stunt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He picked up his mobile again and cursed when he saw no more than four
minutes had passed since the last time he’d done so. He pushed his phone into
his pocket, hoping that keeping it out of sight would make it easier to stop
checking the screen every few minutes. He needed to keep busy. It would be at
least another hour before his visitor would arrive. Except that he couldn’t
think of the man — Ronan Collins — in those terms, of course. As soon as the
Irishman walked through the door, Lucas would be reduced to the status of a,
more than likely, unwanted guest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He went to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No! I’m not a visitor here either. Paul
named me in his will, he gave me part of his business. This Ronan will need my
cooperation almost as much as I’ll depend on him.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Carrying the coffee with him, he made his way to his bright and spacious
studio. He stopped on the threshold and studied the room in detail for the
first time since he’d furnished it almost three years ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This is mine!</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> Everything from the clean lines, to the white walls,
and the bright splashes of color had been his idea, his design and his
execution. Paul had allowed him to get on with it, not putting any restrictions
or expectations on him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘You do exactly what you
want, lad. These will be your rooms and if you bring clients to your studio it
should show them what your style is, give them an idea of what to expect if
they work with you.’ </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A
lump formed in his throat and he lowered himself into his comfy chair. He
missed Paul, and the big hole in his life didn’t appear to be shrinking. Three
weeks had passed since the cremation and he hadn’t even come close to getting
used to the idea that the man who’d been so much more than his mentor for the past
three years was no longer around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Blowing on his still too-hot-to-drink coffee, he
surrendered to the memories surging through his mind. He’d been so lucky. He’d
met Paul when he was in his last year of college. Paul had been a guest
lecturer and had given a month’s worth of lessons. Even now, almost four years
later, Lucas couldn’t believe that Paul had been so impressed with his ideas
that he’d offered him not only a job but also a place to stay once he’d
discovered Lucas’s predicament. Lucas had moved in and started working two
weeks after he’d received his diploma.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He stared at the mug in his hands as the loneliness
that had been his constant companion ever since Paul died, tried to engulf him
again. The house wasn’t the same without Paul in it. It was too big for him on
his own. At least once a day he’d find himself halfway up the stairs before
remembering that nobody awaited him in the rooms at the top. No more shared
coffee breaks, no more discussions of designs and clients, no more…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He forced himself to not get trapped in that
particular vortex of painful thoughts again. It hurt too much. There were
moments he feared he would drown in the loneliness, when he had to talk out
loud to himself to break the silence surrounding him. He missed Paul. He hadn’t
realized how used to his company he’d become until he was no longer around.
Forty-nine was too young for anyone to die. Lucas still had so much to learn,
so many unanswered questions, and now he’d never know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I
can’t believe he never told me he had a son</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Early Reviews</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #2b2b2b; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“Trust me, with
writing like this you won’t want to miss a phenomenal story!</span>” – <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">OJ He Say</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“One of the things I
really liked about this book was its setting. Amsterdam and the Netherlands
become almost a character in the book. I loved reading about the cultural items
throughout the book: the travel, the food, the holidays, etc. It was like I was
actually there touring the country with Ronan and Lucas. I've read a lot of
books set in other countries that could be anywhere. Ms. Stone made the
location a part of her book!</span>” <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">– <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Eric
McDermott</b></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white; color: #111111;">“I enjoyed this
smooth-moving story of discovery, redemption, and restoration so much I hardly
know where to begin.</span> […] Romance novels are usually so predictable.
Everyone seems to follow the same script to attract and titillate the reader.
This is where Ms. Stone steps away from the pack. Her characters are
delightfully unpredictable. The surprises are artfully dispersed throughout the
story, using charm, humor, and emotion in such a way as to enhance your reading
pleasure.” – </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Sharon</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white; color: #181818;">“This was such a lovely story. Sweet, fun, and
charming. Low on sex, but high on feelings. </span> […]This book is for
everyone who loves a well-written story with great characters, who loves a
laugh and sweetness without being sappy.” - <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Tanja</b></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br />Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-83785313125422410652018-02-19T19:31:00.000+00:002018-02-20T10:18:46.017+00:00A Month of Firsts or With a Lot of Help From My Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqejDhkoJVLHLZEH33gebIc13gDudVnc3qpNc8aE5jeqqnYF8CVbuCuXlc-ge87EhJ3Osh-atiCQ_ZatBW-6lUMjGxTvtu6lBrEy0RULVOzgITWeDxp6ARovJas8Ems2buCi7mvK37jT5E/s1600/Thank+you+Own.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqejDhkoJVLHLZEH33gebIc13gDudVnc3qpNc8aE5jeqqnYF8CVbuCuXlc-ge87EhJ3Osh-atiCQ_ZatBW-6lUMjGxTvtu6lBrEy0RULVOzgITWeDxp6ARovJas8Ems2buCi7mvK37jT5E/s320/Thank+you+Own.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Two days ago I
uploaded my new Valentine’s Day story to Amazon. This is my first foray into
self-publishing, but publishing the book was also the last in a long line
of firsts. To say I’ve been on a very steep learning curve for the past three
weeks would be the understatement of the century, and if it hadn’t been for the
people I’ll mention below, </span><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">Valentine’s Love</span></b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> would never have seen the
light of day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Adira, Tanja,
Dermot, Elin, Paul, and Lily are not only worth their weight in gold when it comes to
their beta reading powers, they also proved to be speed readers extraordinaire.
Sally Hopkinson managed to pull off what I deemed impossible when she edited
the full story over the course of a few days. And without Theo Fenraven my book
wouldn’t have had its gorgeous cover.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Let’s just say that
there’s nothing like trying to get my own story ready for publication to make me appreciate all the work my publishers have done for me in the past. If I
ever wondered why I had to split my royalties, I know fully understand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">I’m immensely
grateful for and in awe of the patience displayed by Isobel Starling, K.C.
Wells, Posy Roberts and Brigham Vaughn. They helped me with formatting the Word
document, creating an Instafreebie account, setting up a newsletter, and
publishing the book on Amazon without ever losing their patience or telling me
how very useless I am when it comes to all matters IT. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">If I needed proof
that the writing/reading community I’m part of is a very supportive and loving
place, my journey to producing this book provided it in spades. I can’t begin
to express how incredibly grateful I am for all the help and hand-holding I
received.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">As for the book: It
will always hold a special place in my heart. Not only is it the first title I
self-published, it is also the story that proved once and for all that I’m a
very lucky writer to have found so many invaluable friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Blurb<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ty
O’Malley loves Spoilt for Choice, his gift shop. He enjoys nothing more than
helping his customers find the perfect present. The only exception is
Valentine’s Day. Ever since his partner left him, three years previously, Ty
hasn’t been able to enjoy the love-themed holiday, and goes out of his way to
avoid dealing with it. This year will be no different — until his assistant
interferes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When
Ben Cronin walks into his premises, looking for presents for a man he doesn’t
know but has been admiring from afar, Ty can’t deny Ben is everything he would
look for in a man — if he happened to be looking, which he isn’t. Besides, Ben
has obviously set his sights on someone else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As
Ty instructs Ben in the art of finding the perfect gift, the two men grow
closer. But there are only four weeks until Valentine’s Day. After February
fourteenth, Ty will probably never see Ben again … Or will he?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: red;"><b>Valentine’s
Love</b></span> can be found on
Amazon for $.99/£.99/€.99 or through KU.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Universal
link: <a href="http://mybook.to/ValentinesLove">http://mybook.to/ValentinesLove</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-26419463922099508282018-02-10T07:00:00.000+00:002018-02-10T07:00:05.567+00:00Valentine's Love - An M/M Romance Valentines Giveaway<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Valentine’s Love<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Yes, it’s that time
of year again where we get to celebrate love (even more than we do every other
day of the year).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">In order to bring
new love to your E-reader, eighteen authors, including yours truly, got together
to organise a Valentine’s Day MM Giveaway. All of us have created new stories
for the occasion, and there’s a nice variety of sub-genres so everybody should
be able to find at least a few books to their taste. The participating authors are: Isobel Starling, Jackie Keswick, Irene Preston & Liv Rancourt, Dale Cameron Lowry, Chris McHart, Frank W. Butterfield, Alina Popescu, A.M. Arthur, Sue Brown, Tanya Chris, Teodora Kostova, April Kelley, C.L. Mustafic, B.L. Morticia, Bronwyn Heeley, Lillian Francis, Kate Pavelle, and Leona Windwalker. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">You can find all
titles included here: <a href="https://isobelstarling.wixsite.com/books/giveaway">Valentine Giveaway</a>
Clicking on the covers will take you to the relevant Instafreebie giveaway
pages.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">For the curious,
here’s the information on my story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: red; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Blurb<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ty O’Malley loves Spoilt for Choice, his gift shop. He enjoys
nothing more than helping his customers find the perfect present. The only
exception is Valentine’s Day. Ever since his partner left him, three years
previously, Ty hasn’t been able to enjoy the love-themed holiday, and goes out
of his way to avoid dealing with it. This year will be no different — until his
assistant interferes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When Ben Cronin walks into his premises, looking for presents for a
man he doesn’t know but has been admiring from afar, Ty can’t deny Ben is
everything he would look for in a man — if he happened to be looking, which he
isn’t. Besides, Ben has obviously set his sights on someone else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As Ty instructs Ben in the art of finding the perfect gift, the two
men grow closer. But there are only four weeks until Valentine’s Day. After
February fourteenth, Ty will probably never see Ben again … Or will he?</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This giveaway and my participation in it wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for the enthusiasm, patience, and fabulous organisational skills of Isobel Starling, who also has a wonderful sounding story included in the giveaway. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Happy
reading! And, Happy Valentine’s Day!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-25614146274317326682018-02-05T21:02:00.000+00:002018-02-05T21:02:04.259+00:00Monday Flash Fics - The Reality of Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNge6Vz7BOmObwTSxMDUZn6DRQPRFRSoiOULhWCLnffUZD_vJn1ZW65lWKdf89OW3AFTTlW0FjpVoeWtOzodKQOwLEOfrLumKbfBwF3gszCD5pHqRW-TMoQO5WWlKw31NBjmpbLTLWmQKh/s1600/Feb+05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="540" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNge6Vz7BOmObwTSxMDUZn6DRQPRFRSoiOULhWCLnffUZD_vJn1ZW65lWKdf89OW3AFTTlW0FjpVoeWtOzodKQOwLEOfrLumKbfBwF3gszCD5pHqRW-TMoQO5WWlKw31NBjmpbLTLWmQKh/s640/Feb+05.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
Reality of Love<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I watch as the
ropes drop from the helicopter hovering high above my hide-out, unsure how I
feel about the fact that my journey has come to an end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I wonder about the
fact that they’ve lowered two lines. <i>What
if he hasn’t come alone?</i> I don’t want to pursue that line of thought. It’s
out of my hands now anyway. I made my move and left him with a choice. His
decision will be the answer to all the questions I wasn’t brave enough to ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I squint at the tiny
shapes, slowly making their way down. One of them is obviously human. Whether
or not it’s him I can’t tell. I don’t know what’s attached to the other line
though. If it’s also a person he or she has no idea what they’re doing and I
fear for what might happen when they reach the ground without straightening up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">As they descend,
the little chip implanted in the back of my neck, starts to tingle, providing
me with the answer to one of my questions. The human coming down is almost
certainly him. He’s found me. Did he come to extract his revenge or... I refuse to finish the thought as my mind flashes back to our last encounter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“My
need for you has nothing to do with the fact that I own you.” Darius, my Master
sounded almost angry. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Maybe
not,” I replied. “But you can’t deny the bond between us is artificial; only
established and maintained by the chips.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I
refuse to believe that.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I
didn’t want to believe it either. I wanted him to yearn for me the way I longed
for him because of real feelings, not an electronically generated emotion,
created by the technology that’s supposed to keep Masters happy and slaves
obedient. But I knew better than to get my hopes up. I had no doubt that only
proximity kept us bound together. As soon as the distance between us was bigger
than the chips’ range, any such feelings would evaporate. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“You’re
wrong. You have to be.” The combination of hope and desperation in his voice
decided me. When he left me alone, I fled. Not the smartest decision I’d ever
made, considering that running from my Master is punishable by death, but I
couldn’t take the conflicted emotions we were exchanging any longer.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The person and the
object disappear from view, swallowed by the forest. I close my eyes as common
sense reasserts itself, killing any hopeful fantasies I might entertain. It won’t
be him; chances are he’s already replaced me and has given my electronic tag to
a hunter. My punishment would arrive soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I close my eyes and
try to prepare myself for what’s to come. I don’t want to die, but can’t help
feeling it has to be better than the lie I’ve been forced to live for the four
years since I was sent to his house. I understand why the Rulers decided that
it was better, more peaceful, to have Masters and slaves love each other. And
maybe it works for others. For me it has been hell. Knowing our feelings are
artificial hurts more than I can bear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I recognise the
sound instantly. No two engines sound exactly the same and I’ve been a
passenger on that one often enough to identify this machine instantly. <i>He brought his bike?</i> I try to figure out
what this development means, coming up with nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Sam?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I bite back the
sigh wanting to escape. “Yes, Master.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“No!” For the first
time in years his voice holds the authority I would expect from a Master. “My
name is Darius.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">My mind reels, but
before I try to establish what this development means I need the answer to one,
very important, question. “You came looking for me. Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He stares at me for
a few moments, a smile tugging at his lips. “Because I love you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“But I was too far
away.” I’d made sure of that, studying how big the chip’s range was and travelling
well beyond that distance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Did your feelings
change?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Such a simple
question, and yet I never asked it. Only now do I fully realise that the miles between us failed to lessen my love for him too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“But how?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He shrugs. “Who
cares?” He pulls me to his chest and I surrender. “Maybe one day we’ll figure
it out,” he continues. “But even if we don’t. These feelings are real, whether
they’re supposed to be or not. And you —" He plants a kiss on my lips. “You belong
with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He said “with” and
not “to”. My last doubts evaporate. “I do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">760 words<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I’m not sure where
this flash came from. Except that it’s loosely related to a longer story I’ve
been playing with for over a year now. Maybe it’s time to open that document
again?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">More stories,
inspired by the same image, can be found in the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/786704538067126/permalink/1777393888998181/">Monday
Flash Fics</a> group on Facebook. Since I’ve already read a few of them, I can
safely say they’re well worth a few minutes of your time. Enjoy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-19729130424551040192018-01-22T21:31:00.002+00:002018-01-22T21:41:12.057+00:00Monday Flash Fics: In the Dark<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh89MPPbdeO-cSvxjGr7M7YzzFP24vPOOQcn1YXwQbrqytUF1ib743PJ_q6XCg5Q0QA4fLJ8SkQhg52YnFRTPfEF5fGzWn14lAZ_4ygiNPjdADuhKf1H2texnT0eggskflzUu-4hBR4Lsf5/s1600/Jan+22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh89MPPbdeO-cSvxjGr7M7YzzFP24vPOOQcn1YXwQbrqytUF1ib743PJ_q6XCg5Q0QA4fLJ8SkQhg52YnFRTPfEF5fGzWn14lAZ_4ygiNPjdADuhKf1H2texnT0eggskflzUu-4hBR4Lsf5/s400/Jan+22.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In
the Dark<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">The door had been
left unlocked, just as I they’d told me it would be. The hallway behind it was
narrow and dark. Squinting my eyes, I searched in vain for a light switch. I
suppressed a curse; I hated being in the dark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Moving slowly, I
made my way to the staircase I could vaguely make out in front of me, and
carefully climbed towards the top floor. My orders had been clear and I’d
followed them to a T. This was the last part of my journey, even if I wasn’t
entirely sure what I would encounter at the end of it. I knew what I hoped to
find though.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">It was even darker,
when I reached the top, but I could see there was only one door on the small
landing. Disturbingly, no light shone from the gap between the door and the threshold,
but I knew what I had to do, so I knocked. Once.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“Enter.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">The voice was deep,
somewhat hoarse, and not completely unfamiliar. My heartbeat, already
accelerated after the climb, picked up more speed as I grabbed the handle and
pushed it down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">If possible, the
interior of the room was more devoid of light than the hall and staircase had
been, and I hesitated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“What are you
waiting for? Was there any part of your instructions you didn’t understand?”
The voice came from somewhere straight ahead of me. “Come in and close the
door.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Still I waited,
wondering whether whatever might come next would be worth the risk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“Now!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">I couldn’t ignore
the command in that voice and obeyed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“That’s more like
it.” His voice — because I was now sure it belonged to a man — had lost some of
the aggressive note it had held before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“Tell me about your
journey here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">I swallowed. I didn’t
want to talk about what I’d experienced as a long walk of shame. But I’d come
that far, giving up then would have been stupid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“It was horrific,”
I confessed. “People pointed at me, laughed and jeered.” My mouth was dry, and
I swallowed hard before continuing. “Little kids followed me, shouting insults,
asking me what I was supposed to be, and …”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“And what?” He
sounded almost kind now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“A little girl,
about four years old, burst out crying. She asked her mother why Little Red
Riding Hood had a beard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“But you came
anyway. You didn’t turn around and go back.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">It wasn’t a question
so I didn’t react.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“I’m proud of you.”
Affection had slipped into his voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Suddenly a light
came on and I blinked, momentarily blinded. Then I saw him, sitting in a big
armchair, dressed all in black with his long hair flowing to his broad
shoulders, and his smile almost feral.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“Thank you, Master Wolf.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“Well done, Red.
Now come here.” He pointed to the floor space next to his feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">I closed this
distance, knelt, and relished the moment when he pulled me close, until my head
rested against his knee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“Now you’re mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">My heart soared.
After hoping he would notice me for over six months, he’d at last accepted me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">“And for me,” he
continued, “you’ll learn to love making a show of yourself. Before too long you’ll
cherish the dark. For me you’ll overcome all your fears and boundaries.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">He was right.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Today he brought me
to the promenade and took this photo. He made me wear a coat this time. I didn’t want to put it on. Because I couldn’t be prouder
of being Little Red for my Master Wolf. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">****</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*sighs* 610 words. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wasn't going to write a story for this picture and then I not only changed my mind, but also went way over the 500 word target. Just as well the Monday Flash Fics group members don't take that rule too seriously. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Talking about the group, more stories based on this image can be found here: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/786704538067126/permalink/1759490720788498/">Flash</a> Enjoy!</span></div>
Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1351165543140737493.post-67319406174045302542018-01-15T18:30:00.000+00:002018-01-15T18:30:00.162+00:00Monday Flash Fics: Through the Keyhole<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMGkTmxxdcLfb2-zFeHohZxUe8JbX2u-uHMc8hiyEuElq6dZyimoqCH1PBIuH8NE6x6K_Lk1uw-PI65N1fEVLkydQEmAfcn5wHqKVw0wOtGpJBjLuAR_Ms1dIXyCj1h_lCHbN4AOfJWSmW/s1600/Jan+15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="355" data-original-width="500" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMGkTmxxdcLfb2-zFeHohZxUe8JbX2u-uHMc8hiyEuElq6dZyimoqCH1PBIuH8NE6x6K_Lk1uw-PI65N1fEVLkydQEmAfcn5wHqKVw0wOtGpJBjLuAR_Ms1dIXyCj1h_lCHbN4AOfJWSmW/s400/Jan+15.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Through
the Keyhole</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">This
is wrong.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Not for the first
time I ask myself how on earth I ended up in this, potentially very embarrassing, situation. I don’t do shit like this. I don’t peek through keyholes. I don’t
spy on others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Liar.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Of course, if all
of that were true, I wouldn’t be here right now, watching these two men as they engage in what has to rank among the sweetest sexual exchanges I have ever seen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I wonder how long I’ve
been crouching here. Far too long, if the pinching feeling in my lower back is
anything to go by. Still, no amount of discomfort can make me take my eyes off
the spectacle on the other side of the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I was here, shortly
after I heard the door slam closed, as if one of them used the other to push it
to. I’ve watched them as they kissed and undressed each other, caressing each
other’s bodies with an on reference bordering amount of attention for every
single inch of naked skin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Their first kiss
made me hard. By the time they’d positioned themselves on the bed, sucking each
other’s cock, my arousal had turned painful. The urge to open my trousers and
take myself in hand has been close to overwhelming, but I resist. I’m in a
hallway. Being caught spying on them would be bad enough without me also
jacking off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“So good.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I’m not
sure but I think it’s the darker of the two men who moans the words. They’re
fucking now, slow and easy, as if they have all the time in the world. I lose
myself in the arse of the one I’ve nicknamed Blondie, moving up and down as he
rides both of them to the heights of ecstasy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Almost, Jasper. I’m
almost there.” Blondie sounds breathless as his movements turn erratic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Yes! Ohhhh,” the
one called Jasper responds inarticulately.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">A few frantic
moments later they climax … at the same time … as if instructed to do so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I’ll get something
to clean us up.” The blond man’s words are muffled since his mouth is pressed
to his partner’s neck. He gets up and disappears from sight, heading, I assume,
to the bathroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I should leave now.
The action has obviously reached its end and the longer I stay, the bigger the
chance I’ll be caught. And yet, I can’t take my eyes off the beautiful man on
the bed as he slowly trails a finger through the, probably drying, mess on his
belly before putting it in his mouth and moaning softly as he sucks it clean.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I rest my head
against the door, closing my eyes for a moment as the ‘if only’ scenarios rush
through my mind. Next thing I know, my support disappears and find myself on my
knees, staring up into the eyes of Blondie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Are you okay, Sir?”
He tries to hide it but there’s no mistaking that expression for anything but a
smirk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“So much for you
giving us a night of freedom.” The voice coming from the bed is all too
obviously trying not to laugh at me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I slowly raise
myself to my feet as I ponder the truth in his words. It had seemed like a wonderful idea once I'd figured out how attracted my two subs are to each other. I figured
it would be good for them to have a night of passion without me calling the
shots. Everything I’ve just seen tells me it was the right decision to make.
And yet…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">As Blondie, also
known as Pascal, drops to his knees and frees my throbbing cock from its
confides before swallowing it whole, I decide to make sure this won’t
be the last time I give them this freedom. Until then … <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I re-establish my
position as their Dom the moment I shoot my load down Pascal’s throat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">649 words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">It has been way too
long since I wrote flash fiction and I can’t begin to tell you how delighted I
am to have written something this week. I fully intend to resume regular
postings but … Best laid plans being what they are, whether or not I’ll succeed,
remains to be seen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Please visit the </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/786704538067126/permalink/1751506218253615/" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Monday
Flash Fics group</a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> on Facebook for more stories inspired by this picture.</span></div>
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Helena Stonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17529886101156451591noreply@blogger.com0