Displaying 1 - 10 of 225 entries.

New Stuffs!

  • Posted on December 12, 2013 at 9:40 pm

Not one but TWO new stories out! One’s a contemporary with BDSM elements, while the other is a dark fantasy. I hope you’ll check out one or both of them.

Final Surrender

Daniel has no idea how to react when Gray asks to be tied up and dominated. After all, Daniel rescued the younger man from a brutal relationship not that long ago. The last thing he wants is to drag Gray back into that kind of world. What he doesn’t understand is that Gray needs this. Daniel just doesn’t get why.

So he goes looking for answers. His journey will leave him raw, both emotionally and physically. But will it be enough for him to grant Gray what he needs most?

From Shara Azod, LLC





In a land defined by war, Mika and Tarv are Inkbound, tied to each other through magical tattoos that allow them to communicate over distances to pass tactical information from legion to legion. The bond creates other side effects, as well — effects the generals would rather ignore.

When Tarv’s legion is attacked, his bond to Mika disappears. Mika is left alone, with no idea what his future might hold — for when one Inkbound man dies, often the other one does too.

Another Halloween Excerpt for Hump Day

  • Posted on October 24, 2013 at 8:00 am

As promised last week, today’s Hump Day Hump features an excerpt from All Souls. In this short story, an angel and a demon form a long-time, unholy alliance that reaches its head on All Souls Night.



There was more information to exchange than there often was at these meetings. Pavel had inscribed name upon name on the skin of his arms, his back, his belly, the words only readable when the angel’s fingers brushed over them. Uriel mumbled the names to himself in a soft, careful voice; he remembered them all somehow, though Pavel didn’t know how. He only knew how his skin shivered as the angel’s touch moved over him.

It was the only way he’d found to keep the names safe as he gathered them over the months leading to All Saints. Stored just beneath his skin, they were invisible to everyone else. Uriel had given him the ink a long time ago, when they’d first made this alliance. When Pavel had first seen Uriel’s face in a stretch of sunlight and had known he would do anything—anything—for the chance to be near the angel again.

It hurt. Oh, God, how it hurt. The letters rising just below his skin felt like tiny embers burning into him, then rising out as the words formed and then dissipated. It hurt more than anything Pavel had ever experienced in his life, and his life so far had spent a good number of centuries. It made his body want to shake and tear itself away, but at the same time he wanted nothing more than to move into the touch, closer. His cock strained inside the confines of human-style clothing—jeans, boxer briefs. He thought about the letters he’d written there, on that delicate skin, only a few weeks ago. He wanted Uriel’s fingers there, gently stroking their powerful magic. Wanted his mouth.

The thoughts shattered as Pavel realized Uriel was speaking to him. He had reached a name in the middle of Pavel’s back, was carefully tracing the words. The pain was so precise Pavel could feel the letters, could read them as Uriel took them up.

“This one—are you certain?”

“Yes.” Pavel tried to keep the strain out of his voice but it was difficult, pain and lust warring within him to the point he could barely think.

“We have tried to bring him over for a very long time.” There was a hint of awe in Uriel’s voice. It made Pavel proud—he’d done something to win the angel’s approval.

“It appears recent events have broken him. He’s at a crossroads.”

He could feel Uriel’s nod behind him. “Yes, yes, this is good. I can work with this.” And he moved down the list.

There were so many. More than Pavel had ever brought Uriel before on their appointed night. The world was in upheaval—people stood on crossroads and parapets waiting to choose a direction or take a fall. Which way they fell could change the course of a day, of a life, or of human history. It was Pavel’s job to find these souls on the brink and deliver them to his master, who would decide when and how to push for the desired result. Which Pavel dutifully did. But he also brought them to Uriel.

Only this one night, on the border between fall and winter, between light and darkness, could they meet this way. On any other night, too many doorways were closed between their worlds. On any other night, the names could not pass.

Uriel was mumbling softly now, fingers tapping over the lines on Pavel’s skin. He spoke the names as if committing them to memory. Sometimes his voice held a touch of surprise, and Pavel understood why. Some of these names—even Pavel had been surprised they’d reached a point where the tide could be turned so easily.

His fingers traced the names over Pavel’s chest, down over the plains of his belly…

And then he stopped.

The next line of names was half covered by the waistband of Pavel’s jeans.

Humpday Hump for Halloween!

  • Posted on October 16, 2013 at 9:00 am

I’ve got a couple  new stories out for Halloween–well, one is new and the other is a reprint. Check out these spooky tales over some hot cider and donuts! I’ll give you an excerpt from Lady in White today, then check back next Humpday for an excerpt from All Souls.

Lady in White

Hitchhikers aren’t uncommon in the mountains of Colorado, but Cam knows this one–a beautiful woman in a white gown–isn’t your ordinary hitchhiker. Getting rid of malevolent spirits is his job, and he knows how to send this one on to the afterlife. But she doesn’t seem to want to go back…


He’d hunted malevolent spirits for a long time, but he’d never fucked one before. First time for everything, he supposed. And so what if he had to take one for the cause now and then?

In the close quarters of the car, there was little room for finesse. Finesse, though, was not a priority. She tore at his zipper and the button on his jeans, shoved them out of the way, pushed aside the flimsy white material of her tattered dress. Her body did not so much take him in as engulf him, and for a split second he panicked, seized by the utter certainty that he would not get his cock back. Ever.

New! Hockeyrotica!

  • Posted on July 8, 2013 at 9:30 am

Enjoy more adventures with hot hockey players. And it’s not Bessette and Laska this time! I think we call this “branching out.”

The story’s called “Shinny Dipping,” and it’s about some guys who just like their hockey. Or their shinny. Or getting naked after a rousing game of pond hockey.

When Grant sees local hockey star Matt Brooks at his health club, he’s immediately seized with admiration for the man’s spectacular hockey ass. He knows just what he wants to do with that ass—and when Brooks invites him for a game of shinny with some of his buddies, Brooks just might get that chance.

Head on over to Shara Azod’s site to check it out!

Naughty Edition Reviews Blog Hop

  • Posted on June 4, 2013 at 1:54 pm

Well, it’s my turn today to participate in the Naughty Edition Reviews Blog Hop. Be sure to stop by their main page–they’re giving away an e-reader

I’m giving away a copy Razor’s Edge Press short story, Crease Violations, which is m/m/m HOT HOT action with some BDSM elements. It’s the fifth in the Puck You series, but I think you could jump in and read this one without having read the previous stories. If you’d prefer another of my books, just drop me a note in your comment entry below to let me know what book you’d like. I’ll be monitoring comments–I get mondo amounts of spam here, so everything’s on moderation. If there’s a delay, that’s why, so don’t panic. :-)

Here’s a bit about the story: The team is floundering, and it’s largely Chernyaev’s fault. The Russian goalie needs to be punished for his misdeeds before he can get back on track. It’s the kind of punishment only Láska can dish out — and he needs Bessette’s assistance.

An excerpt for your perusing pleasure:


“I’m not paying you to stand there with your head up your ass.” The coach’s voice had reached a decibel level comparable to standing on the tarmac while a jet took off directly over your head. “How the fuck are you managing to let in everything?” A short pause followed this question; then the coach burst out, “Are you following me, Chernobyl, or do I need to get your fucking interpreter?”

Bessette barely heard Chernyaev’s mumbled reply, not clear enough to make out the words. The goalie certainly wasn’t living up to his nickname in this encounter — he was cowed and submissive, not angry and spewing. Bessette glanced sidelong at Láska, in the stall next to him, who was lacing up his skates. The Slovak’s teeth were clenched, his normally pale complexion flushed red to the tips of his ears. He moved one shoulder, as if acknowledging Bessette’s regard, but didn’t turn or even look up. Bessette wondered why he was so angry.

Chernyaev didn’t present marked improvement during practice. Bessette could tell he’d hit bottom — that awful, black place where you couldn’t get anything to go your way, and you couldn’t figure out why. Bessette had been there. Fortunately, when he’d been snakebit, there were other forwards to put the puck in, and he’d been able to console himself with the occasional assist until he finally managed to pot a goal after what had felt like an eternity of failure. Chernyaev didn’t have that. He either stopped the puck or he didn’t. And if he kept not stopping it, he’d very likely lose his spot as starting goalie, possibly permanently. The only reason Coach was still putting him in the net was that the backup goalie hadn’t performed much better.

Normally cocky and more than a bit of a smartass, Chernyaev seemed smaller, shaking as he skated off the ice after practice. He’d stopped pucks, yes, but without his usual flair, and Coach was screaming at him as he tried to escape to the locker room.

“Do I have to call up another fucking goalie?” Coach’s volume wasn’t quite as intimidating, mostly because he’d literally screamed himself hoarse through the course of practice. “That Speltke kid is burning up the AHL right now. Should I give him a ring?”

Chernyaev muttered something in Russian as he pushed past Bessette. Under the tipped-back cage of the goalie mask, Bessette saw something burning in the Russian’s eyes. Not quite pure anger. Despair. Disgust. Fear. It was intense enough that it almost hurt Bessette to meet his eyes.

In the locker room, Chernyaev hunched in his corner stall. Stripping off his gear made him look even smaller, more drawn into himself. He undressed with a taut precision that looked like he was desperate for whatever control he could muster.

Bessette kept looking at him sidelong, but flicked his gaze back to his socks, his skates, anything else, when Chernyaev seemed about to meet Bessette’s gaze. Finally Bessette stacked the last of his hockey armor in his stall and headed for the showers.

When Bessette emerged, damp with water now rather than rancid sweat, Chernyaev was still in his stall, but Láska had joined him. They were talking together quietly; all Bessette could make out was the occasional sibilant or half-coughed H that told him they were speaking Russian. After a time, during which Bessette shrugged back into his suit pants and dress shirt, Láska said, “Vecherem. Sem si chas,” firmly, clapped a hand on Chernyaev’s shoulder, and headed back to his own stall.

Bessette wondered what exactly they’d decided was going to happen tonight, but a large part of him — probably the more sensible part, knowing what he knew about Láska — didn’t want to know.

That part of him was apparently not going to be appeased. Láska paused by Bessette’s stall on his way to his own, leaned into Bessette’s space, and said quietly, “Tonight. Seven. My place.”

Bessette drew back, frowning. He could read nothing in Láska’s slanted, ice-blue eyes other than the cool determination that told Bessette Láska expected Bessette to agree without question.

“Why?” Bessette snipped.

Láska tipped his head slightly toward Chernyaev. “He needs us. You’ll be there.”

“Fine,” Bessette shot back. He shook his head as Láska gave him a companionable slap on the back.

“Good man.”


Sunday Snog–Cafe Midnight: Chai Latte

  • Posted on April 14, 2013 at 2:51 pm

Today’s snog is from Cafe Midnight: Chai Latte, by Elizabeth Jewell (that’s me!!!) and Marteeka Karland:

“Forget it.” Jessalyn waved a hand, half dismissive, half irritated. “Just…” She stopped. Instead of trying to articulate the thought, she opened the cellophane on the gift bag and pulled out a box of shortbread. She opened it, extracted a piece, and took a bite, letting the flaky, biscuit-like cookie dissolve on her tongue. While the sweet, buttery flavor soaked in, she studied the men’s faces.

Well, they certainly weren’t threatening. They’d made no move to steal anything out of the kitchen or ravish her on the cabinets. They just stood there looking at her expectantly.

Jessalyn took another bite of the shortbread. Then, on a sudden whim, she said, “Kiss him.”

The minute the words were out of her mouth, she bit her lip, wondering what in the world could have possessed her to say that to them. Then an image flashed in her mind, much like those that had paraded through her head only a short time before. These faces, as if in memory, their expressions soft toward one another. Their faces close together, lips almost touching, and then a wide, pale hand rose to cup the darker, Asian flesh, and somehow she was watching…

Gunnar turned to Tam, his blue eyes darkening. “It’s been a while,” he said, then his wide, pale hand rose to cup Tam’s darker face, and he leaned in.

Jessalyn watched, the shortbread forgotten until she felt it break, crumbling to pieces between her tightening fingers. God, but they were beautiful together, Gunnar’s paleness against the sallow undertones of Tam’s skin. Tam’s dark eyes slid shut, his mouth tilting against Gunnar’s.

They’d done this before. A lot. And they liked it.

New Release from EJ and Marteeka Karland

  • Posted on April 5, 2013 at 9:44 am

Café Midnight: Chai Latte is my first collaboration with Marteeka Karland. We’ve known each other for a long time–I edit Teeka in my other identity as Fearless Editor of Millions at Changeling Press. I hope this will be the first of several projects with Teeka, but I might have just made her a bit too crazy for me to write with her again…

Café Midnight: Chai Latte

When Jessalyn visits the Café Midnight coffee shop on her friend’s recommendation and orders a chai latte, she doesn’t know what she’s getting into. But as soon as she places her order, the natural magic of the place brings her her perfect mate — or, actually, two of them.

Tam and Gunnar have been trapped in limbo, waiting to be reunited with their true, perfect mate. They have three shots to win her love, or they’ll be cursed forever by the sea goddess they offended centuries ago. Problem is, they’ve already used two of their chances, and now it’s do or die — literally.

Read an excerpt here.

Review for Valentine’s Special

  • Posted on April 4, 2013 at 9:42 pm

You can still read this story even though it’s not Valentine’s Day anymore. It’s still hot m/m bondage stuff. :-D Anyway, here’s a review from Rainbow Book Reviews that says some nice things about it.
“If you like stories about men trying new things, even if they scare them, if you enjoy reading about a Dom switching to “the other side”, and if you’re looking for a short, hot, well-written read that will make you smile, you should try this short story. I definitely enjoyed it.”–Serena Yates

To read the rest of the review, visit Rainbow Book Reviews.

Valentine’s Special is available at:


Barnes and Noble


Show Me St. Louis–Erotic Anthology Release Party 2-22-2013

  • Posted on February 22, 2013 at 9:18 am

Featuring “Extremely Anonymous” by yours truly…

(Unfortunately, I won’t be at the release party.)

Sex Positive St. Louis Presents:

Show Me Book Release Party

Shameless Grounds, 2650 Sidney St, St Louis MO 63104

Friday, February 22nd, 7pm

Sex Positive St. Louis, in partnership with Queer Young Cowboys, is proud to announce the publication of Show Me: Erotic Stories from the Gateway to the West:  10 pieces of short erotic fiction featuring culture, places, and experiences that make life – and sex – in St. Louis unique!

This will be the first collection of erotic stories to focus on Midwestern urban and suburban life. Life and sex here is different from the common big city or rural settings of much erotic fiction. Show Me celebrates the desires and complicated pleasures that belong to a ‘big city that feels like a small town’, and to its suburban surroundings.

We’ll be kicking off the release of Show Me with a reading and signing at Shameless Grounds on Friday, February 22nd at 7pm. Reading from their work will be two of the top ten ranked sex bloggers in the nation, Jade Melisande of Pieces of Jade (http://piecesofjade.wordpress.com ) and Kendra Holliday of The Beautiful Kind (http://thebeautifulkind.com ), both winners of the Riverfront Times Point+Clique Web Award for Best Sex Blog. Also reading will be writer and publisher Johnny Murdoc of Queer Young Cowboys (http://www.queeryoungcowboys.com ), writer and performance artist David Wraith (http://www.davidwraith.com ), and SEX+STL founder Anna Bent.

Signed copies of the print edition will be available for purchase. Admission is free. For more information, contact:  sexpositive.stl@gmail.com


New Review for Outta My Crease

  • Posted on February 21, 2013 at 9:11 am

“Outta My Crease is a quick read. Told through Bessette’s eyes I felt like I was there watching the machinations between the men while knowing what Bessette was thinking and feeling. I felt bad for Bessette as if he and Laska were breaking up and Bessette was seeing his replacement taking over. But I was surprised as Bessette is surprised at the end.”–Sheila, Talking Two Lips Reviews

Thanks for the great review, Sheila!

Readers–stay tuned for Crease Violations, the next story in the Puck You series at Razor’s Edge/Changeling Press.