Excerpt from Irresistible Forces by EM Lynley @emlynley #M/M #erotica

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Unconditional Surrender - a 16 author M/M Military Anthology.

Irresistible Forces by EM Lynley


Logan Flynn was near the end of the row between two empty beds. Even in partial profile, Brody recognized him. Even forty pounds lighter and with a dark shaggy beard against pale skin. Propped up with some pillows, he had his left arm in a sling.

He used to know every inch and contour of Logan Flynn’s body. Not from the kind of intimacy he might have wanted but because they had spent so much time together. In the barracks, the inevitable communal showers, and the long days and short nights that practically defined Ranger School.

How could Brody not have known him instantly even in that filthy Afghan hut?

The hospital gown was loose across his shoulders. Shoulders Brody remembered as broad and muscular. Shoulders Brody fell asleep dreaming about touching and kissing and…

Seeing him again brought back a rush of emotions Brody thought he was finished with but he’d been mistaken.Maybe it’s been too long for a simple conversation to hurt anymore.

He swallowed and tentatively made his way to Logan Flynn’s bed.

Or maybe not.

Logan didn’t see or hear him approach, even as Brody stood at the foot of his bed. Close up, Flynn looked to be in even worse shape, in the bright unforgiving light of the hospital.


No response.

“Logan. It’s….”

Logan turned toward Brody, looking through him at first, then his eyes focused.

“Brody?” The hoarse whisper sent daggers through every nerve in Brody’s body. So familiar, yet so full of pain it hurt to hear him.


“Hey.” Finally, Logan smiled. It took a moment for the obvious gladness to make its way from his mouth to his eyes. “Brody.”

Brody wished he could hold onto something for dear life. The sound of his name on Logan’s lips sent so many memories—and even more dreams and fantasies—racing through his mind and body. No, don’t think about that. Not now. Not here.

“You look good, Logan.”

Logan shook his head but he smiled even more broadly. The dark eyes were alive again, bright and lively, now even more of a contrast to the pale skin. “Fuck off.”

He was the same old Logan in so many ways, even though he didn’t resemble the man in Brody’s memory at all in others. Getting captured by the Taliban could do that to a guy. Brody grabbed an ugly orange plastic chair and dragged it over to the side of the bed, ignoring its scrape across the floor like nails on a chalkboard. The men in beds across the way stared with narrowed, angry eyes.

“So what have you been doing with yourself for the past six years, Flynn?”

It had been more than six years since he had last seen Logan Flynn, not counting the previous day’s rescue. Before that, it had been the day after graduation from Ranger School at Fort Benning, Georgia. For seven weeks of solid hell they’d been buddies. You were never supposed to be out of sight of your Ranger buddy, ever. They’d been everything to each other—almost everything—and then they hadn’t set eyes on each other since. It had been some cruel twist of logistics and staffing that they’d never ended up in the same unit or base during the intervening years.

“Well, lately, a bit of sightseeing.” Logan grinned. “You?”

“The same. I heard Afghanistan was the place to be, so I booked a trip. Beats Iraq.”

“Really? I though Iraq was the hot ticket.”

“Oh, it was. But that party’s over.” Brody paused. What the hell else was there to say? They had nothing in common anymore. A few shared weeks six years ago didn’t make them friends. “Glad you’re doing okay.” Best not to ask, just assume.

“Th-thanks. For bringing us—me—back.”

Brody just nodded. He started to get up.

“How’s Staub?”

Not fast enough. “He’s doing good. Causing trouble with the nurses. I heard that if you hadn’t treated him so quickly he might not be in as good shape. Coulda bled out on the bird.”

“Glad I could save someone.” Logan’s toneless voice almost brought tears to Brody’s eyes.

Logan frowned at Brody for a moment and then the corners of his mouth came back to neutral. He didn’t break the gaze and Brody waited, thinking Logan was going to say something.


He’d been waiting six years for Logan to say his name like that.


EM Lynley writes gay erotic romance. She loves books where the hero gets the guy and the loving is 11 on a scale of 10. A Rainbow Award winner and EPIC finalist, EM has worked in high finance, high tech, and in the wine industry, though she’d rather be writing hot, romantic man-on-man action. She spent 10 years as an economist and financial analyst, including a year as a White House Staff Economist, but only because all the intern positions were filled. Tired of boring herself and others with dry business reports and articles, her creative muse is back and naughtier than ever. She has lived and worked in London, Tokyo and Washington, D.C., but the San Francisco Bay Area is home for now.

She is the author of Sex, Lies & Wedding Bells, the Precious Gems series from Dreamspinner Press, and the Rewriting History series starring a sexy jewel thief, among others.

Visit her online WebsiteBlogFacebookTwitterNewsletter 



Keira Andrews excerpt from Unconditional Surrender M/M @keiraandrews

UnconditionalSurrender_500x750ARCTIC FIRE (Rated R)

Unconditional Surrender


Jesus Christ it was cold.

With fingers stiff in his gloves, Jack flicked on his little flashlight under his sleeping bag. It was only zero-four-hundred, but it had been dark for so many hours it felt as though the night would never end. It must have clouded over, since there was no light from the moon making its way through the tent walls. He shuddered to think of what it was like in the winter when the sun barely rose at all.

Carefully, he pointed the flashlight around the tent, aiming it high to avoid waking Kin, who slept peacefully a few feet away. The red of Kin’s toque peeked out from his sleeping bag, and Jack could see his closed eyes and his nose. He was breathing deeply and evenly.

The odds of turning on the stove without waking him were nil, so Jack stayed put, shivering in his sleeping bag. Kin didn’t seem bothered by the cold at all, but Jack’s teeth chattered. He wanted to wrap himself in one of the pelts beneath them, but the idea of moving out of his bag was not appealing.

He should have turned off the flashlight since he was wasting the battery, but he found himself watching Kin sleep. He’d shared tents with dozens of men over the years, but none had intrigued him like Kin Carsen did. Not even Grant. He winced at the familiar sting of guilt twisting in his gut.

His scars flared to life, and he scrabbled at the back of his neck and shoulder, dropping the flashlight with a thud, the beam of light spinning around the tent. It was as if his flesh was burning again, and it prickled unbearably. He yanked off his gloves to scratch properly, squirming in the tight sleeping bag.

“Jack?” Kin murmured.

“I’m fine,” he gritted out. “Go back to sleep.”

Kin’s tone was sharp, all drowsiness vanished. “What is it?”

The light shone in his face, and Jack squeezed his eyes shut and burrowed into his bag. “I said it’s nothing. Leave me the hell alone.” He dug his blunt nails into his skin even though he knew it would pass faster if he left the scars untouched. The doctors said the itching was all in his head, but it was hard to believe when he trembled with hot prickles. At least he didn’t feel as cold.

“I’m only trying to help.”

“Then don’t. I don’t need your help.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Sir.”

The flashlight snapped off, and when Jack opened his eyes the tent was black again. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He breathed heavily through his nose, forcing himself to stop scratching. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, okay? It’s a hundred percent me. I’m a bag of shit lately.”

There was silence for a long moment. Then, “Is that the official diagnosis?”

Jack barked out a laugh, some of the tension leeching from his body. He felt around for his gloves but couldn’t find them, so he curled his hands against his chest in the sleeping bag. “It should be. Sorry for being a drama queen. You’re more patient than I would be stuck with an FNG.”

“You’ll have to enlighten me.”

“Fucking new guy.”

Kin laughed softly, and Jack wished he could see the little dimples that creased his cheeks. He tried to think of something else he could say to make him laugh. “I wouldn’t blame you if your GAFF was pretty low right now.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Give a fuck factor.”

Kin laughed again, and despite the cold Jack felt a bloom of warmth in his chest.

“Do you have an army to English dictionary? My students would love these.”

“No, but someone should write one.”

“Maybe that should be your next assignment.”


Jack breathed easily again. There was something nice about talking in the dark in their sleeping bags. Reminded him of when he was a kid sleeping over at Jimmy Leclerc’s house, talking until all hours of the night on the old shag carpet in the basement. And just like he had with Jimmy, Jack inched closer to Kin, shifting himself as quietly as possible.

He didn’t know why he had that urge, since he was a grown man now and he didn’t have the excuse of being afraid of the dark, or the rumbles and clangs from the Leclerc’s furnace. Outside the tent there was only the steady whisper of wind. But he still felt drawn to Kin, and the low sound of his exhalations.

“What’s it like during the midnight sun? When there’s daylight twenty four hours?”

“It’s…lively. The restaurant at the hotel is open day and night since there’s always someone awake. I try to keep normal hours, but it’s hard. There’s a lot more noise, and people out and about. We pretty much hibernate in the winter and make up for it in the summer.”

“Must be strange. I guess you get used to it.”

“Yeah. It’s just the way it is. Everyone has blackout curtains. But there’s always a party going on somewhere. Once—”

Jack waited a few heartbeats. “Once what?”

“My brother snuck off and went fishing with his buddies in the middle of the night. They ‘borrowed’ a boat, and of course they got caught since there they were in the middle of the bay, clear as day. Even in the winter, there’s always someone watching. Hard to keep secrets in Arctic Bay.”

“Have you tried?”

Kin was silent for a moment. “Everyone has something to hide.”

It was all Jack could do not to ask. But he had his own secrets, and it was best to keep it all locked away, no matter how safe it felt cocooned in the dark with Kin. Anything Jack said tonight could haunt him in the dawn.

“That’s why I like coming out here. There’s only the land, and it keeps all its secrets.”

“How about the polar bears?”

Kin chuckled. “They’re the worst gossips. Never tell a polar bear something you don’t want the whole world to know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m shooting the breeze with one.” Jack flexed his fingers, rubbing his bare hands together. “Christ it’s cold. I dropped my gloves.”


As material rustled, Jack expected the flashlight to come on. But his heart skipped a beat as Kin spoke.

“Give me your hands.” Kin’s voice was closer.

Jack’s mouth went dry, and he heard his heartbeat thumping in his ears the way he could when he wore earplugs on planes. He shimmied his arms out of the sleeping bag and fumbled for Kin. When their fingers brushed together, he had to bite back a gasp at the flare of desire in his belly.

Smoothly, Kin took Jack’s hands between his and rubbed. He’d taken off his gloves, and he massaged Jack’s fingers. God, it felt good. Kin’s hands were slightly callused—more so than Jack would expect from a teacher. Granted he was also a Ranger, but a Saturday soldier didn’t usually get his hands that dirty.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Frostbite can happen really easily out here. You have to be careful. Your fingers are way too cold.”

Jack opened his mouth to give some kind of excuse, but any words were lost in a strangled gurgle when his index finger was enveloped by wet heat. Kin sucked, and his tongue swirled around, rough and slick at the same time. Jack was glad he wasn’t standing, since so much blood rushed to his cock that he likely would have gotten lightheaded.

Keira Andrews  Link to Keira 


16 authors: Kerry Adrienne, Keira Andrews, Annabeth AlbertBrit Blaise, Cassandra Carr,  Lia Davis, Sasha DevlinRhi Etzweiler ,  Lucy Felthouse,  Amelia C. Gormley, Cat Grant,  E.M. Lynley,  Brien Michaels, Sam Schooler, V.J. Summers, L.A. Witt,

Cassandra Carr Except from Unconditional Surrender #M/M @cassandra_carr

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Flynn prayed this early in the evening a spanking bench would be available, and blew out a relieved breath when he spotted one near the corner. Though he wanted to keep their play public and Clay had not argued with that, he’d guess the other man wouldn’t be comfortable having his bare ass on display in the middle of the room.,

“Should I just, um, climb on up?”

“Yep. I’ll get the restraints done so you can get used to them before we begin.” He set about getting Clay strapped to the bench and also more used to his touch, since he had a tendency to be very tactile during scenes. He’d found it effective, along with words, for reading his subs. Flynn went around to Clay’s front and squatted. “Okay, you’re in the bondage. How does it feel?”

“Incredibly liberating.”

Flynn grinned. He probably looked like an idiot, but so what? “I’m glad to hear that. Now, I will give you a good, hard spanking like you asked, but it ends when I think you’ve had enough. You have no say over it unless you safeword, and there’s no shame in doing that. But, if you can, trust me to know what you can take. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll start with a small paddle to warm you up, that way there’s less possibility of bruising. For the second part, would you prefer a larger paddle or a belt? I’ve got both.”


“Okay, how about this? I’ll start with the small paddle. That’ll sting, but bring the blood to the surface, which is where you want it. Then I’ll switch to a bigger, heavier paddle and use that for the majority of the spanking, then end with maybe a dozen of a serious paddle. That way, as long as you’re not flying on the endorphins, you’ll have some warning that the scene is almost over. A lot of newbies appreciate that. Sound good?”

“Yes, thank you, sir.”

“I’m going to get the paddles out of my bag and then bare you. Shortly after that, the spanking will begin. Green for all good, yellow for slow down or I have a question, red for stop.”

“Got it.”

Flynn made himself take several deep, slow breaths as he searched for the paddles he wanted. I can’t believe barely twenty-four hours ago I didn’t know if I’d ever even see Clay again, and now I’m about to paddle his ass. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m gonna do everything I can do to convince him to take this thing beyond a couple of spankings. I want him; all of him. I don’t even know him anymore, but I still want him so fucking bad.

He approached and pushed his hands underneath Clay’s body to get at the bindings of his camo pants. A tiny pair of underwear came into view as he began to push the pants to Clay’s knees. Flynn’s breath caught so fast he began to cough. When he had himself under control, he choked out, “Holy shit, honey, are you trying to kill me?”

Clay laughed, but he sounded nervous. “I kinda figured they’d be better than the white boxers we wear when we’re on duty.”


Cassandra Carr is one of 16 authors in this great Military M/M Anthology. Link to Cassandra.


Excerpt from Storm OUT a Cactus Creek Cowboy Series story #M/M

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Cowboy Kale is the bother of WORLD FAMOUS bull rider Ray Kale from Cactus Creek, Arizona. All five Kale boys have to come together to save their grandfather! 


Sam turned away and rested his forehead against his knees that were pulled up against his chest. “I’m probably being paranoid. Those men got the trophy they came for unless they decided to return for the hide. I don’t know enough about them to make an educated guess other than that they aren’t giving me a second thought. I have less value to rich men like them than a dead animal.”

Leaving a man out in the middle of a snowstorm without protection wasn’t a minor event. “You really believe that about yourself?”

A shrug followed Sam’s sigh. “I don’t know what makes people do the things they do. Maybe one of us should stay awake tonight just in case. I volunteer since you have no part in this.”

“That wasn’t what I wanted to know. Why would you think you have less value than a dead animal?”

“Where have you been? Some people have all the power, and others have none. I’m poorer than dirt, uneducated, and worst of all…gay. If I died, no one would give a shit.”

Where did this weakling get the balls to out himself to a complete stranger, especial one built like a refrigerator? He was either a lunatic or one of the bravest men Cowboy had ever met. “You’re gay?”

“Of course you’d zero in on that.” Sam huffed. “Do I have to worry you’ll want to rearrange my face or worse now?”

Cowboy’s cheeks warmed. That hadn’t happened in a very long time. Would it be creepy to be happy he’d found a gay guy in a storm? If Sam wasn’t interested too, it was creepy. “You don’t have to worry I’m offended by your sexual orientation. Why wouldn’t anyone care if you died?”

“Change the subject. Good tactic. My grandfather might care, I don’t know. He’s not an easy man to get along with. If he lost cigarette money from hunters using my services, he might miss having me around. It’s always worried me that he’d find out I was gay and that would put an end to any family I have. I don’t think he’d ever admit to anyone that he has a gay grandson.”

Sam fell silent, but it seemed like he had more to say. Cowboy didn’t break the stillness.

“My mother, on the other hand, tried to use what she called my special perversion. She supported her drug habit by offering me up to her friends when she discovered me in bed with my boyfriend at fifteen. She wasn’t good at it and people were always trying to rescue me from her. I’ve been sent to social services more times than I can count. She’d clean up and then fight to get me back, but it never lasted long. She didn’t learn from the past.”

Once again Sam went silent. This time for much longer.

This guy could be a drama queen. Hunters who left him to die…a mother who’d pimped him out, his grandfather used him for cigarette money…yeah, right. The guy was a nut job.

Then again, Cowboy had heard other snowmobiles and at least one gunshot when he’d stopped earlier. The motors sounded crisp and powerful, like the one Cowboy normally drove when visiting Alaska.

Why would someone lie? Sympathy? The chances he’d get any compassion once he’d said he was gay were almost none. No. Sam more than likely hadn’t made up all this family shit. Trouble had followed Cowboy to Alaska when he least needed it.

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Cowboy Kale is the bother of WORLD FAMOUS bull rider Ray Kale for Cactus Creek, Arizona. All five Kale boys have to come together to save their grandfather!



Vision of Seduction by Cassie Ryan @TinaGerow

vision of seduction, cassie ryanVision of Seduction

From A Vision Of Passion. . .

Katelyn Hunt is fascinated with the sexy stranger who has been hanging out at her New Age store for the last week. As a Seer, the sensual power she feels from this man of mystery intrigues–and arouses–her. But only his touch allows her to truly see what it would be like to lie beneath him naked and exposed, experiencing complete sexual surrender. And this vision is just the beginning. . .

To A World Of Pleasure. . .

As Prince of an otherworldly clan who use sexual energy as their life-force, Grayson de Klatch has searched far and wide for the Seer who can help save his planet. And when he finally finds Katelyn, he knows he has discovered his future mate. His body craves the sex her body so willingly offers and he aches with the need to make this woman his own. . .

“Ceremony of Seduction is the perfect erotic read. . .Ms. Ryan’s world building is well defined and beyond extraordinary.” –Coffee Time Romance (5 cups)

WARNING! This is a REALLY HOT book. (Sexually Explicit)

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