Today I'm sharing a snippet from "Serge's Gift," my short m/m vampire romp featured in the "Crimson Anthology Volume 1." I'm giving away a free pdf copy to one lucky winner! Just leave a comment below with your e-mail address. Good luck!!
****PLEASE BE AWARE: I write GLBTQ romance. GLBTQ stands for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer. This means my works feature same sex relationships AND same sex sexual acts. If winning that kind of a book isn't your cup of tea, kindly pass on to the next blog in the hop and leave the spot open for someone else. Thank you.****
(Don't let the het cover fool you - my story is *ALL* male!)Blurb:
Dark, sexy, delectable reads await. Join us as ten stories seduce, suck, and ensnare your body and soul with tales of vampires in this anthology.
“The choice had to be yours, if you wanted me or not.”
“You never really gave me that choice though, did you? I mean, if a starving man has a choice between steak and chicken, but only sees the chicken, he’s going to eat the chicken. If he doesn’t know there’s steak back in the kitchen, he’s not going to ask for it.”
Serge cocks his head to the side. “I’ve never understood your habit of turning everything into a food reference.”
I pat my belly. “I do like to eat. I identify with food.”
“So.” Now what? Serge is still interested, if his erection is any indication, but he’s still standing there, unmoving, looking at me. I wonder briefly if he’s expecting me to make the first move now. Not something I’m too good at, I have to admit.
“Keeping things between us platonic has been taxing.” He bares his fangs and hisses. “And I have not enjoyed watching you with the cretins you chose to cavort with. The chickens, if you will, when there is...” He smiles crookedly. “Filet mignon right here.”
“Cretins, eh? I didn’t think David was all that bad.”
Serge snarls and spits on the floor. “David had no brains and even less spine, if that’s possible.” He stalks toward me, though I’m not the least bit afraid of this show of power. “Two problems from which I don’t suffer.”
He’s on the bed again now, straddling me, and I lie back, letting him advance. This is everything I’ve dreamed of since meeting him, after all. No way in hell I’m resisting now. Serge nuzzles my neck with just his lips, traces up to my jaw and back to my ear. “Are you mine, Bryan?”
I nod. I don’t think I can speak around the pounding of my heart and the thickening in my throat. Being this near him has a surprisingly intoxicating effect on me. It reminds me of the one and only time I tried Ecstasy. The room around us is suddenly much brighter, the colors stronger and bolder. I close my eyes against the glare and am met by dozens of little spinning, glowing lights, like lightning bugs trapped behind my eyes.
“Bryan?” Serge calls my name, pants it or moans it, I’m not sure which, but the sound is velvet in my ears. I can literally feel his voice sliding into my brain. I can’t remember ever wanting anyone this much, even him. “Say it, Bryan. Say you’re mine.”
“Yours.” God, he’s absolutely like a drug—I’ll say any goddamn thing to keep him this close, keep his hands on me, keep his body pressed against mine.
Reality runs away from me, and I don’t even try to stop it. Serge kisses me, lips like fire against mine. He pushes his tongue inside my mouth, not asking permission but taking what’s rightfully his. One of his hands grips the back of my neck, the other surrounds my cock. I buck up into that touch, craving the sensation of flesh on flesh, the feeling intense beyond anything I’ve imagined.
Serge strokes my cock slowly, lovingly. I can do nothing—I’m a pile of emotional, sex-crazed knots. I feel boneless and weightless, dizzy, as though I’ve been spun around and around for far too long and then yanked back to stand still. I try to make my arms move, to return Serge’s attentions, but they’re unresponsive.
Serge chuckles, and the sound of it rumbles along my muscles, leaving tiny ripples of pleasure in its wake. “Just enjoy for now, my love. There will be time enough to reciprocate later.”