New Covers And New News!

Hello, my Pervy Loves! I’ve got great news and I’m making some big changes. First, we’re slowly moving my titles to Nook and iBooks. I’ve started with Hide And Keep, for reasons.  My new titles will still be released on Amazon and through Kindle Unlimited. After the 90 day exclusivity agreement expires, I’ll release each title on Nook and iBooks as well. They won’t be available on KU after that but you’ll still be able to purchase it on all three sites. I’m hoping this will make it easier for readers to find and enjoy my books. I also decided it was time to give the whole series a facelift since we’re about to turn 30.


Obviously, I’m several years older than 30 and I’ve only been publishing for almost three years. I am about to publish book #30 and it’s going to be very special. Here’s a hint:


New Covers And New News!

A New Book And A Free Dirty Chapter!

Available on Amazon now!

* Very Adult Excerpt Ahead. Be At Least 18, A Fan Of Swear Words, Sex & Cows*



“Are we there yet?” Haiden asked and Cash gave him a flat look.

“You just asked me that two minutes ago,” he said and Haiden held his hands up.

“You said we were just driving to the other end of the property. We’ve been crawling over hills and winding around trees for almost half an hour. I’m starting to feel a little queasy,” he admitted and Cash reached for his thigh and rubbed it.

“I’ve got almost four thousand acres, it’s like fifty miles across as the crow flies so it takes a while. Just a few more minutes. And I’m sorry you have the stomach of an infant,” he teased.

“Have you thought about adding more roads?” Haiden asked and Cash nodded.

“We’re working on a four lane highway, right through the middle,” he said sarcastically as he pointed out the windshield. “We’re here,” he added and Haiden became alert as he sat up.

“Wow.” He waited until Cash stopped to jump out. A large tree created a canopy next to a soft bend in the river and they were surrounded by wildflowers and butterflies. The grass was deep and thick and Haiden quickly kicked off his shoes and gasped as his toes sank into cool, damp, softness.

“Here,” Cash said and Haiden turned and caught a thick plaid blanket. He looked to where Cash pointed then nodded before he headed for the flat spot beneath the tree. He spread the blanket and dropped onto it as Cash reached into the back of the truck. He pulled out a bottle of wine and a rope and Haiden’s brows rose as Cash headed for the river. He tied the rope around the bottle and slowly lowered it into the water. He tossed the rope over a low hanging tree branch and knotted it loosely before he went back to the truck for a basket.

“This is amazing. I think I could live right here,” Haiden said and he looked around as Cash dropped his hat on the blanket then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it at the truck. He lowered onto the blanket and stretched out next to Haiden.

“Really? Even with the treacherous drive and the motion sickness?” He asked as he folded his arm behind his head then rested his hat on his face. Haiden stuck out his tongue then jumped as a cow wandered into the clearing.

“Cash!” He hissed and Cash pushed the brim of his hat back. Haiden pointed urgently at the cow as it ambled closer. “There’s a cow!” He whispered loudly and Cash chuckled as he let his hat drop.

“I have 2,742, the last time I counted,” he muttered and Haiden watched in stunned awe as the cow slowly lowered next to Cash and its legs folded under it. Cash reached out and patted its side. “It’s a beautiful day for a nap, isn’t it, girl?” The cow made a content snuffling sound as it shut its eyes and Haiden shook his head in disbelief before he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone.

“There’s no signal here either,” he muttered then dropped it on the blanket. “What are we supposed to do?” He asked and he could see Cash’s lips curve under his hat.

“Take a nap, eat, drink wine, fuck, pick flowers… Do whatever you want,” he said and Haiden’s brows rose as he craned his neck and looked around them.

“We can do that here? No one’s going to come looking for her?” He asked as he eyed the cow warily and Cash shook his head.

“They’re all down at the ranch, cleaning the facilities today. The cows and I get the day off,” he said and Haiden bit his lip.

“I didn’t bring anything,” he pouted and Cash’s hand shot out and twisted in the front of Haiden’s shirt before he was pulled on top of him. He gripped Haiden’s thighs as he settled them outside his hips and he was hard as he bucked beneath him lazily. Need and euphoric happiness washed over Haiden as Cash took off his hat and dropped it on his head.

“Everything’s in the basket,” he murmured as he flicked the button at his fly free and Haiden gasped as he fell forward and sucked on Cash’s lip.

“I think I love it here,” he purred as Cash’s large hands slid under his shirt and spread across his back. There was warmth and joy but Haiden reveled in how peaceful and safe he felt as he rocked against Cash, letting their anticipation and desire build. After so many years of fortifying himself and pretending to be stronger than he really was, he could finally just exist and feel. Cash was a large rock in the center of the raging storm. Haiden could take shelter from the chaos of his life and he didn’t have to hide from himself when he was with Cash. Life was simple and clean and Haiden was perfect just the way he was.

Sex stopped being a distraction or a way for him to gain more “street cred” as a celebrity slut. There had been so many men but they were all a muddled blur in the back of Haiden’s brain. Somehow, everything felt new and thrilling each time Haiden kissed Cash and every touch glowed with reverence and discovery. Haiden couldn’t remember the last time sex felt honestly good or real before Cash, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt truly aroused or anticipated someone’s touch. With Cash, his body vibrated with need and exhilaration. He craved his hands, lips, skin, cock… Just all of him, really. And the feelings were more intoxicating than any drug or drink. They were so brilliant and intense, Haiden wouldn’t dream of smoking or snorting anything that might dull or distract him from the giddy flutter in his stomach or the way Cash could cover him in goosebumps with just a brush of his lips against his skin.

“How are you real?” Haiden murmured and he felt Cash’s lips curve beneath his.

“I’m not completely convinced this isn’t a dream,” he said and Haiden groaned as Cash gripped his ass and rocked his hips. He was hard and so large and Haiden shivered as desire and delight skipped down his spine and a gnawing ache flared in his passage.

“Were you serious about fucking out here?” He asked and Cash hummed as he reached into the basket. He searched for a moment and Haiden’s nerves sparked when he produced a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms.

“We’ve got all afternoon, knock yourself out,” he said lazily as he dropped them on his chest and folded his arms behind his head. He shut his eyes and a deep, rumbling, contented sigh spilled from him and Haiden knew he was ruined. No man would ever make him tremble with need or be as captivating as Cash.

“I’m going to need more than an afternoon,” he said as he slid lower and rubbed his lips and face all over Cash’s chest as he unzipped their jeans.

He quickly shimmied out of his then tugged at the waist of Cash’s jeans as he lifted his hips. There was another lazy growl as Cash pushed Haiden’s shirt up his chest then pulled it over his head. His hands gripped and caressed possessively as Haiden licked and panted at the hard ridges and grooves of his pecs and abs as he made his way down Cash’s body. He couldn’t imagine a man being more potent and powerful or more gentle and protective than Cash and he vowed he’d do anything to keep him as he settled on his knees between his thighs. Haiden was demanding and thorough as he licked, sucked and swallowed as much of Cash’s heavy, pulsing length and essence as he could. He waited until Cash’s control vanished and he was lifted and seated, straddling his hips.

“I’ll give you all the time in the world but you need to get on up and ride me now,” he drawled and Haiden’s hands shook as he ripped open a condom.

There wasn’t a man alive who could do that better than Cash. Haiden quickly stretched the condom down his shaft the coated it generously with lube. He rose on his knees and hissed as he pushed his slick fingers into his hole. He fingered himself until the stinging passed and his passage relaxed and tingled hungrily. Cash groaned as his hands washed over his skin, tenderly worshiping him as he chanted his name. Haiden shut his eyes so Cash wouldn’t see them shimmer as awe and joy swelled within him. He positioned the head of Cash’s erection at his entrance then slowly sat, taking him into his tightness as his head fell back.

He opened his eyes and the vivid blue sky peeked through the leaves and he was in heaven. Cash’s hands locked around his hips as he bucked beneath him. Pleasure and heat burst beneath his skin as he took Cash deep and ground hard, striking his prostate as he clenched tight.

“That’s it,” Cash crooned gently as he pulled and pushed Haiden’s hips in time with his thrusts. “Ride my dick and come for me,” he said and Haiden nodded drunkenly as he rocked harder and faster. Cash’s hand tightened around Haiden’s shaft and stroked firmly. His body became tight, hot and frantic as pleasure and pressure bloomed in his ass and groin as his skin glistened with sweat.

“Don’t stop!” He begged as everything became brighter and his body flickered and glowed. He rolled his hips and bounced, thrilling at the euphoric heat and tangling of his nerves as his ass slapped against Cash’s pelvis relentlessly. His prostate throbbed and pressure pushed into the base of his cock as his passage squeezed. “Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he breathed as his body locked and his eyes rolled. Cash sat up and his lips crushed Haiden’s as he pulled him onto his thick, pulsing erection. Haiden screamed against his tongue as his body shattered and Cash’s fingers dug into his back and ass as he came with a loud, primal roar. Their chests heaved as they lapped and sucked at each other’s lips blindly and deliriously before Cash fell back on the blanket. “You mentioned wine and a nap?” Haiden said as he landed on Cash’s chest and it shook as he laughed. His arms tightened around Haiden as they rolled and Cash’s lips tugged at Haiden’s teasingly before he carefully pulled out.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” he said as he pushed off the ground and got to his knees. “I didn’t think you were capable of taking a nap,” he added as he hopped to his feet and reached for the rope. Haiden stretched and let his arms fall on the blanket, over his head and smiled dreamily at the swaying leaves and perfect blue sky above him.

“After that and a few glasses of wine, I doubt I’ll have a choice,” he said as Cash pulled the wine from the water and returned to the blanket.

“We’ll go for a swim once the heat gets to us. It’ll feel like heaven when we get out,” he said as he sat and hunted in the basket. He produced two plastic wine glasses and a bottle opener and Haiden shifted his shoulders and wiggled so he could rest his head on Cash’s thigh.

“This already feels like heaven,” Haiden said and Cash paused and his face became softer.

“It does,” he agreed as his hand cradled Haiden’s cheek. “We used to come here often but I forgot about it as Natalie got older and wanted to spend less time with me. It’s been a long time since I felt this happy,” he whispered and Haiden almost giggled as ecstatic joy swept through him but he caught a flash of grief in Cash’s gaze.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he reached and brushed the hair away from Cash’s eyes. He smiled as he shook his head and it was gone.

“I’m just really happy, Haiden,” he said softly then traced his lips tenderly before he picked up a glass and poured. Haiden wanted to believe him but he could feel the change in Cash. He immediately worried it was Gretchen but he wasn’t sure if he had a right to ask so he nodded and let the matter rest as he took his glass.

“Even power bottoms need power naps now and then,” he said as he raised his glass in salute then sipped.

A New Book And A Free Dirty Chapter!

The Scared Girl’s Guide To Butt Sex


      One of the things I love most about writing gay erotica is the trust people automatically bestow upon me. They’ll share something about their sexuality, past or relationships they typically wouldn’t with other strangers. And for whatever reason, the conversation often finds its way to anal sex. “Does anyone actually enjoy anal?” I get this question a lot. Mostly from straight women in their thirties. Though I have passed along a few tips to a gay friend or two along the way. If you’re a woman, you probably don’t need me to explain why we’re all so terrified when it comes to anal sex. We’ve all had pretty much the same experiences. We all got here on the same bus. Or, maybe you’ve managed to keep that hatch sealed. Or, you’re a dude. It’s ok, you can hang out too.

      A lot of my female friends and acquaintances don’t actually know any gay men, personally. Sadly, for them, I’m the closet thing they’ve got to a gay man. I do my best, guys. But I can’t tell you how many times someone has confided that they “Just don’t get how gay men can do it!”, before they shudder on their behalf. If they’re Catholic, they might even cross themselves. “Um… Correctly?” is usually my response. I understand that they’re not shaming gay men for having anal sex. They’re pitying them. I tell them they’ve been doing it wrong.


      For most of us, our attitudes toward anal sex are formed from two experiences.

Experience #1:

      You’re twenty or twenty-one and you’ve had the night of your life at your sorority’s mixer. You literally drank your face off and Chad finally noticed you. His dick game is strong. He doesn’t lay on you like a stolen corpse and he took notes during the foreplay parts of his favorite porn clips. Maybe you smoked a joint and actually inhaled but you’re feeling DIRTY. You give him the good head, where your nose runs all over the place and your mascara slides down your cheeks as he punches your tonsils. He senses the mood is right and asks if you’re into “butt stuff”. Normally, you’d call his mom and tell her she raised a serial killer but not tonight. Tonight, you’re breaking your father’s heart. Tonight, you’re the girl of Chad’s dreams. Tomorrow, there’s going to be a 1:32 video on Pornhub titled “Tinder slut takes anal like a pro” and you kind of know about it and you’re not mad at it. Somehow, he slides in and it’s nowhere near as bad as you thought it would be. You thought it was going to hurt so bad you’d never want to poop again. But it’s good. This is when you’re possessed by a demon and you let him ride you around his dorm room like a pogo stick. The sex is amazing. You come so hard one of your fillings falls out and you swallow it.


Experience #2:

      You’re in your early thirties. Chad might have told his frat brothers about the night you let him stovepipe you. After that, you installed a security alarm on your emergency exit so you wouldn’t develop a reputation. You still think about that night when you masturbate but you’ve never felt comfortable or been drunk enough with any of the men you’ve dated to dip your toes back in that pond. Until tonight. Ted’s The One. Maybe he’s proposing tonight, I don’t know. But you’ve decided it’s time to rock his world and show him you’re the woman he can take home to mom but also the freak he’s going to tell his racquetball buddies about. He won’t though. He doesn’t brag about you when he’s with his homeboys. He talks about how some other woman’s nipples pushed through her shirt when she handed him his coffee. Anyways. You’re wearing heels and dress that only looks good on you if you keep your stomach sucked in and walk with your tits two feet in front of you. You’re having dinner at one of those nice restaurants where your server talks softly instead of throwing peanuts at you and line dancing on the table. You order the fettuccine alfredo because you forgot that you can’t really tolerate dairy anymore. Who cares? Tonight’s going to be special. Butter, cheese and heavy cream are no match for Romance. Two hours later, you’re back in your junior suite at The Radisson and you’ve had like six cosmos. You’re not feeling 100% but you’ve hinted that tonight’s going to be extra special and you can’t back out now. He brought luuuuube. You’re locked in so you have to make it work.


You’ve told Ted all about your wild night in college. He probably asks you to describe it in detail every time he’s coming around third and sprinting toward home plate. Ted knows what’s on the itinerary and he’s stepped up his game too. He plays Enya and puts on a diving cap and nose plugs then motorboats your clit while you hiss and cringe in agony. Then, it’s time. He settles over you after he’s slapped a palmful of KY on himself and you hold your breath. It’s not good. Actually, it’s about as bad as a thing can get without requiring an ambulance. It feels like you’re trying to sit on a hot road cone and you’re pretty sure you’re going to have to sneak the sheets out of the hotel. The engagement’s probably off.

       That’s pretty much the end of it. Anal is forever off the table and if Ted so much as mentions it again, you’re going to counseling. But it doesn’t have to be. If you’ve watched any porn on your own, you’ve seen plenty of women and men having an absolute blast as a rubber fist is jammed into their backside. Obviously, it works for some people. What are we doing wrong?


1. Stop treating your ass like it’s church. Visit more than twice a year and forget about dressing up. Your fifth anniversary is not the night to kick in the door and take hostages. Why are straight married people so set on making anal sex romantic? In our house, we have Wu-Tang Tuesdays. Not that we only have anal sex on Tuesdays. It’s just fun and easier to make that a standing appointment because I get a little more haphazard with my diet toward the weekend. But whenever we do it, we don’t listen to Bolero or John Legend. We listen to Wu-Tang, Jack White or something we wouldn’t let the kids listen to when they were toddlers. Listen to something with swear words, you’re going to say a lot of them.


2. Accept that you have a digestive track and respect it. Back when you were in college you lived on clear alcohols and Diet Pepsi and you definitely didn’t eat on Saturdays because you didn’t want to look “bloat-ie” in your low rise bootcut jeans. You didn’t give a fuck about fiber. You were like a field of fresh snow when you went for it with Chad. I usually cut out most dairy and meat at the beginning of the week and eat more vegetables and lentils and drink a kale-based green juice for breakfast a few times a week. I read a magazine article about a woman who let her boyfriend pressure her into spontaneous anal because she thought he was about to propose. Things got messy and he broke up with her. I’m not kidding. The first thing everyone has to agree to and accept is that butts aren’t just for fun, they’re functional. And if you’re going to do adult things to your butt, everyone involved should be adult enough to understand there might be consequences.

3. Avoid the consequences. This is where so many straight women sabotage themselves. They’d do well to pay a little more attention to porn or consult the internet for advice. Anal sex is infinitely more enjoyable when you’re squeaky clean. It takes about 75% of the worry out of it and lets you focus on more important things. Like remembering to wear waterproof mascara and holding onto your ankles. There are a range of cleaning options. You can keep it simple and straightforward and buy a Fleet enema or you can get a little more niche and play with hot water bottles and hoses. I fall somewhere in between and like adding the tiniest bit of rose or peppermint scented castile soap.


I also like to hedge my bets with an Immodium in the afternoon. Mind your electrolytes, though. I try to drink a few Powerades before and after cleansing because I hate fainting. Do your research first, or ask someone you trust for advice.

4. You should definitely go it alone, in the beginning. You probably knew your way around your vagina long before you let a boy or another girl touch it. Figure out your butt too. You’ll be more relaxed and less embarrassed if it’s just you. Also, he’ll think it’s sexy as fuck when you look like you know what you’re doing. Just casually strum your fingers over it while you’re masturbating and slowly add a finger or two back there to the routine. Be patient and keep it chill.

5. You ALWAYS use lube. And a lot of it. Unless you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to get a rug burn inside your ass or you just really like pain (which is fine, too), you should have plenty of an appropriate lubricant on hand. Look on Amazon and pay attention to what works with different toys and condoms, if you’re using them. I wouldn’t have anal sex without a lubricant with lidocaine in it, at least. Even if it’s just you, you’re going to want to get really slippery. I have four different types of lube in my toy drawer. I use a lot of coconut oil too.

6. S-T-R-E-T-C-H. You couldn’t feel your face or those vicious little muscles in your ass when you let Chad ride you to town and back. I will admit: I cheat. Nothing gets me in the mood for butt sex like pot. And pot makes butt sex a hell of a lot easier. Poppers are fun too but if you’re actually reading this for advice, you might want to hold off on those. Also, I keep a prescription strength bottle of viscous lidocaine in my toy drawer. I do not know the long-term side effects or dangers of using lidocaine rectally and advise you to proceed with caution. You could also ask your doctor if you’re fine with him judging you. I like to live dangerously so I go heavy on the lidocaine about fifteen minutes prior, after I’m so fresh and so clean, clean. But if you’re embarking on some light anal play or everyday anal sex, you’ll probably be fine without a prescription. Now, here’s what your gay friends would tell you, if you were brave enough to ask them: Stretching makes a huge difference. Spontaneous anal sex happens all the time and it’s really hot. It’s just not for us. Yet. Taking a little time to ease into it can take most of the pain out of anal. Unless you want it. You can just skip ahead, then. I pregame by gradually using a variety of different sized vibrators or dump them on the bed and we use them during foreplay. It’s a lot of fun and you won’t scream like you’re being murdered as he’s fighting his way in.


And you don’t have to worry about breaking or wearing out your butt. For the most part, the ass is a lot like a vagina and will stretch and shrink back to normal shape after a few hours. Forget what your friends told you in high school, your lunch isn’t going to fall out. You can find some really impressive pictures of prolapsed anuses on the internet but a lot of time and diligence went into them. That rose didn’t bloom overnight. Not that you won’t want to be a little mindful, the day after. But you’ll be fine. I promise.

7. Try ALL the positions and get comfortable. There’s a sweet spot in there and you might have to pull a few muscles before you find it. But it’s super worth it. You don’t have to hug your knees and pray that it’s over quickly, watch a few videos or look on Pinterest for a Kama Sutra For Moms chart or something. The ideal positions would be ones you can really settle into and work. You’re not going to look hot while riding him reverse cowboy, if you’re doing it right. Just commit to sweating and swearing and whatever else works.


8. Anal sex can happen at any time. Seriously. Stop saving it for birthdays and anniversaries. Many people have anal sex daily. They don’t need a special occasion, they just do it because it feels really good. But it takes a little practice and twice a year isn’t really cutting it, is it? And do you really want to make something you’re probably going to be awful at the focal point of your tenth anniversary?


The Scared Girl’s Guide To Butt Sex

A NEW Dirty Book And A Very Dirty Chapter!

Hello, my pervy loves!

I have such a hard time saying no to my readers. And in this case, I’m so glad I didn’t. I was asked if I could write a hot billionaire and my first reaction was something like this:


      That’s been done to death.

      But then I thought about what MY billionaire boyfriend would look like…


And what if he fell for a sweet gentle man who looked like this?

And what if the billionaire boyfriend wasn’t some creepy abusive robot? What if he was adorable and vulnerable and loved to cuddle? But was also a motherfucking boss. In bed and just in general. Give me two men and they’re automatically touching each other’s butts and moaning in my head.

I’m delighted with how it came together. Here’s a chapter from The Crush, available on Amazon:

***WARNING!!! Very Adult Content And Language! Be 18 Or Older And A Fan Of Hot, Dirty Men.***



“I’m home,” Fletcher said as he pushed open the door and there was a series of soft beeps as he waited for Rhys to step in. He shut the door and set the alarm for the night as Rhys leaned and scanned.

“Wow,” he whispered then looked up as Louis Armstrong’s trumpet filled the air.

“Music off,” Fletcher said as he dropped his keys in the bowl and Rhys gasped as he shook his head.

“No! Music on!” He protested and Fletcher rolled his eyes as he shrugged out of his coat.

“Play music,” he said. The trumpet began The West End Blues and the muscles in Fletcher’s shoulders and neck immediately loosened and he whistled softly. “Hello, Matilda,” he said as the love of his life strolled down the hall lazily.

“You have a cat?” Rhys asked excitedly as he squatted and clicked his fingers at Matilda. She was unimpressed as she passed him then wound herself around Fletcher’s legs as he flipped through his mail. It was all junk so he leaned and tossed the pile into the trash.

“I have a cat,” Fletcher confirmed as he bent and picked her up. “Or, more accurately, a waddling, longhaired throw pillow,” he said as he scratched behind her ears and made his way to the freezer. He grabbed a bag of frozen shrimp then headed for the fish tank. He kissed Matilda’s ear then set her on the armchair next to the tank.

“This is beautiful!” Rhys said. His head tilted to the side as he watched the lion fish and eel become alert. The other fish made their way to the far end of the tank and settled to the bottom as Fletcher lifted the lid. He dropped in just enough frozen shrimp and watched as the lion fish captured a piece then backed away as the eel swirled and collected the rest. “This is huge. You could fit half of the Great Barrier Reef in here!” Rhys stated as he went to the end and bent at the waist as he looked into the side of the tank. “It looks like I’m in the ocean!” He exclaimed and Fletcher chuckled as he went back to the kitchen. He threw the shrimp in the freezer then hummed along with Louis as he washed his hands. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge then tossed it at Rhys as he made his way to the bar in the living room.

“There’s the couch and there’s a bathroom in the hall,” he said as he waved at the large leather sectional. It was as wide and deep as his bed and Rhys shook his head as he set his hands on his hips.

“That has to be the biggest couch I’ve ever seen,” he said and Fletcher shrugged.

“I’m tall and I like having room to spread out if I’m working while I’m watching something,” he explained as he poured a scotch. “I’ll be back with some pillows and blankets,” he said then turned and headed for his study. He started his computer and printer then opened the file he sent himself. Once it was printing, he loosened his tie as he crossed the hall on his way to the linen cabinet. He was able to fit two pillows, a set of sheets and a blanket under one arm and sipped from his glass as he headed back to the living room. “Here. Help yourself to anything you need,” he said and Rhys grinned wickedly as he turned away from the fish tank.

“Anything?” He asked suggestively and Fletcher blinked back at him. It was really fucking tempting. But messy rebound situation aside, it was just a terrible idea in general. He shook his head as he dropped the linens on the end of the sectional.

“You need to sleep this off,” he said and Rhys chewed his lip as he pushed his hands into his back pockets.

“I’m not that drunk. You caught me just as I was hitting my sweet spot,” he said and Fletcher shook his head again.

“It’s not a good idea and you’d be doing it for the wrong reasons,” he replied and Rhys pouted playfully as he reached for Fletcher’s tie.

“I like seeing you like this. It’s kind of fascinating,” he said as he twirled it around his finger and the room was suddenly too warm.

“Why is it fascinating?” Fletcher asked as his eyes dropped to Rhys’ lips. He licked them and Fletcher practically felt it on his lips.

“It’s kind of my job to know all about you and I thought I did. But I was wrong,” he said and Fletcher couldn’t remember the last time he felt his heartbeat or the last time he took a breath. Need swirled in his groin as his skin prickled. He reached for Rhys’ jaw then froze.

“This isn’t right,” he whispered as he shut his eyes and took a step back. “Goodnight, Rhys,” he said then turned and fled.

He attacked the rest of the buttons on his shirt and ripped off his tie as soon as he turned into his bedroom. He considered shutting the door but he wanted to keep an ear on Rhys so he changed into a pair of silk pajama pants in his closet. Fletcher dropped his watch on the nightstand then drained his glass. His lips twisted as he looked toward the living room. If he was quiet, he could probably sneak past Rhys without calling too much attention to himself. And he needed the reports from the office.

Rhys was sitting on the floor in front of the fish tank with his legs pulled up to his chest and his arms resting on his knees. Fletcher might have made it if it hadn’t been for his reflection in the glass. Rhys swung around and his brow rose as his eyes met Fletcher’s.

“Why are you sneaking around in your own home?” He asked and Fletcher shrugged then pushed his hand through his hair.

“I’m not really dressed and I didn’t want to make it more awkward…” He mumbled and Rhys laughed.

“You’re not interested, I get it,” he said then winked and Fletcher snorted as he reached for the scotch.

“That’s definitely not it,” he said as he poured a very generous double. Then a little more. “I should be good,” he stated as he held up the glass then took a large drink. “I’ll see you later.” He didn’t wait for Rhys to respond as he quickly escaped to his study. He grabbed the stack of reports from the printer then darted across the hall into his bedroom. Fletcher used his elbow to press the light switch as he sipped and hummed with the music as he strolled to his bed. He dropped the papers on the duvet as he set his drink on the bedside table then swiped his phone off the dresser.

It was still Friday night and there were still three days between him and Tuesday. Fletcher sighed in relief as he dropped onto the bed and crossed his ankles as he leaned back against the upholstered headboard. Utter confusion and temptation incarnate might reside in his living room but he could still shut the world out and lose himself in a perfectly aged double malt and Billie Holiday. Oaky, honeyed silk spilled down his throat and made his fingertips tingle and Fletcher thought it was all going smoothly until Rhys tapped at the door and leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m going to die,” Fletcher groaned as squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to un-see Rhys in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. Rhys laughed softly and Fletcher dropped the papers onto his lap to hide the situation unfolding in the front of his pants.

“I had a feeling it was this bad,” Rhys said and Fletcher cracked an eye open.

“What?” He asked and Rhys waved at the bed.

“It’s Friday night and you’re in bed, working,” he said and Fletcher nodded.

“I didn’t get to the forty-second floor because of my personality. I have no life,” he admitted and Rhys clicked his teeth as he strolled into the room and Fletcher’s eyes followed as he went to the window.

“Look at that. It’s like there’s nothing between us and the Empire State building,” he said then held out his arms and twisted. “This would be a beautiful spot for naked yoga in the morning,” he murmured and Fletcher nodded absently as his eyes absorbed the various tattoos across Rhys’ chest, stomach, back and around his upper arms. They were making him sweat. And Rhys’ ass. His body was tall, lean and perfectly sculpted but his ass was what was going to kill Fletcher. It was round and tight and Fletcher’s dick hurt, it was so hard.

“Naked yoga?” He rasped and Rhys hummed as he turned and rested his back against the glass. He hooked his thumbs in the waist of his briefs as his eyes became drowsy.

“Want a demonstration?” He asked and Fletcher nodded drunkenly.

“Wait!” He shook his head. “That would be bad,” he said then winced. “It would be good, I’m sure,” he corrected. “But you shouldn’t because it’s not a good idea.” The breath caught in his throat as Rhys licked his lips and slowly traced his erection. It was so large and thick and a shiny wet circle spread over the head and gleamed in the soft light. “Why are you doing this?” Fletcher asked hoarsely and Rhys pushed away from the window and prowled toward the bed.

“Because I can now,” he said as he stopped at the foot of the bed. His boxer briefs slid down his legs and Fletcher swayed as a wave of desire crashed into him and his control quaked. “Sometimes, it’s really good when it isn’t right. Sometimes, it’s better when it’s bad,” Rhys whispered as he set his knee on the bed and crawled toward Fletcher.

“Christ, Rhys!” He growled as he reached for him. He pulled him against his chest and Rhys’ knees hugged Fletcher’s hips as their lips crashed and tangled. Rhys’ fingers speared into his hair and his tongue was demanding as it swirled and thrust against Fletcher’s.

He felt so perfect in Fletcher’s arms. His hands caressed and gripped as they roamed over Rhys’ back, ass, thighs, shoulders… Everything was hard, smooth, hot, sleek. Rhys rolled his hips, smoothly rocking as their cocks slid against each other. There was a whisper of silk between them and the decadent smoothness made the head of Fletcher’s cock throb and leak. His hand shot toward the bedside table and threw it open. It took him a moment to find the lube and condoms before he dropped them on the bed then fell forward and pinned Rhys to the mattress. Fletcher supported himself with one arm and pushed his pants over his hips then twisted and kicked until his legs were free.

“Well done,” Rhys purred as his hands slid down Fletcher’s chest.

“Hold your applause until the end of the presentation, please,” he murmured as he slid down Rhys’ body. Rhys laughed then hissed as Fletcher pressed his tongue against the base of his cock. He licked slowly, filling his nose and lungs with Rhys’ scent as he savored the taste of his skin. He sucked at the tender spot just beneath the head and Rhys shivered then gasped as Fletcher’s tongue dipped into the slit in the head. His pre-cum was sweet and had a delicate tartness that made Fletcher ravenous. He sucked hard as his hand pumped the shaft and Rhys swore loudly as his shoulders came off the bed.

“Oh, God! It’s been so long!” He cried as his fingers twisted in Fletcher’s hair and his head snapped up and he frowned.

“How is that possible?” He asked. Rhys tasted like pure heaven. He was crisp, soapy and slightly peppery. And Fletcher couldn’t get enough of the way he smelled.

“Zane isn’t really into doing a lot of that. He’s more into receiving,” Rhys panted as he bucked restlessly. “Fletch, please!” He moaned and Fletcher shook his head as he pushed his nose into Rhys’ sack.

“He’s so fucking lousy and he’ll never be good enough for you,” he swore then tilted Rhys’ hips as his thumbs held him open. He groaned in delight as his tongue washed over Rhys’ tight, puckered flesh. He was bright and spicy and Fletcher pushed his face deep into his ass as he lapped and sucked wildly. Rhys whimpered and undulated on the bed and he chanted Fletcher’s name breathlessly. He was beautiful and Fletcher had never been more aroused in his life. “I could live here,” he breathed against Rhys’ flesh as his nails dug into his thighs. “I could live off the smell and the taste of your body. And I could listen to you beg and cry and never get tired of hearing you whisper my name,” he said as he kissed his way up Rhys’ erection. Rhys’ mouth hung open as he stared at the ceiling and Fletcher cringed. That might have been a bit too intense. “Can I finger your ass?” He asked then sucked at the head and a bark of laughter burst from Rhys.

“I can’t believe you just asked me that!” He giggled and Fletcher sucked harder as his thumb brushed over his hole and Rhys nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, you can do that,” he said and Fletcher hummed in approval as he flicked open the lube. He coated his fingers and rose so he could watch as his fingers traced Rhys’ hole before he slid two into his gripping heat. He was so tight and hot and Fletcher bit back a groan as he waited for the muscles pinching his fingers to relax. Fletcher wrapped his hand around Rhys’ shaft and stroked firmly and Rhys melted on the bed as his body relaxed. Fletcher’s fingers twisted and pressed as he massaged the tight ring and made a soothing, encouraging sound as Rhys became even more relaxed. “That’s so good. More,” Rhys babbled as his head rolled from side to side. Fletcher nodded as he pressed deep and Rhys’ feet slid higher as his hips twitched. “More!” He pleaded as he rode Fletcher’s fingers and he wanted to give Rhys everything. He couldn’t tell him so he used his hands to overwhelm him with pleasure. Fletcher fingered him slowly, massaging his prostate until come poured from Rhys in a thick, lazy stream. He fell forward and licked greedily until Rhys was clean then attacked his lips. I love you.

“Can I fuck you?” Fletcher asked because it was much less terrifying. For both of them. Rhys nodded as his lips clung to Fletcher’s.

“You can do anything you want to me,” he said shakily and Fletcher kissed him thoroughly before he pushed off the bed and sat on his heels. He stretched the condom over the head of his erection then coated it with lube. Fletcher pulled Rhys’ ass against his groin then set the head of his cock at his entrance.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Fletcher admitted as he slowly filled Rhys. He watched as his jaw fell and his head tilted back. His neck was long and graceful and Fletcher was mesmerized as his eyes slid down Rhys’ body. His abs quivered and flexed as his chest heaved and his skin glowed.

“I swear, I didn’t know,” Rhys breathed and his legs locked around Fletcher’s waist as he ground against his ass and they both moaned. He stayed deep, bucking hard as he locked Rhys’ ass against his groin and the pleasure that rushed through Fletcher’s veins was intoxicating.

“I had to fight against it every damn day,” he complained as he kept to a slow, grinding pace. “You can’t know the things I’ve imagined doing to you,” he said and Rhys whimpered as he gripped his cock and tugged.

“Fuck, that’s so hot!” He cried as his heels dug into Fletcher’s ass. “I’ve never felt anything this good,” he said as his head thrashed. Fletcher nodded as he grabbed Rhys’ wrists then fell forward and locked them above his head.

“I don’t want to rush, I’ve waited so long for this,” he murmured against his lips then sucked on his tongue as he wrapped his hand around Rhys’ ass and squeezed.

Fletcher sank into the tight bliss of Rhys’ passage as he gorged himself on the taste of his lips and his skin. He clawed and pulled at his body as he tried to drown in him. He didn’t let himself think as he sucked, lapped and bit at Rhys’ face, neck, ears, shoulders… Anything he could get his mouth on, he claimed.

“Holy shit,” Rhys slurred as his body arched beneath Fletcher. “I’m coming again.” He jerked and jumped as he writhed and Fletcher was helpless. He gasped as he was pulled into Rhys’ climax. His eyes rolled as he bit into his shoulder. Pleasure and pressure swelled in his groin and surged up the length of his shaft as his sack pulled tight. Heat exploded and he screamed Rhys’ name against his skin as come pumped from the head of his cock, flooding the condom.

“Oh, my God!” Fletcher cried as he bucked and shivered and Rhys hissed as his thumb brushed over the head of his cock. Fletcher took it and sucked it clean before he fell onto his side. He propped his head up with his hand then growled softly as his fingers collected the drops of come on Rhys’ stomach. He sucked them clean then flopped onto his back. “We really shouldn’t have done that but sweet Jesus,” he said as he threw an arm over his eyes. He laughed softly then grimaced as he peeled off the condom and let his hand dangle off the side of the bed. He’d take it to the bathroom as soon as the room stopped spinning.

“I guess it really is the quiet ones,” Rhys mused and Fletcher made a deeply satisfied sound as he rolled toward him. He pressed a kiss to his lips then sat up.

“I thought I was pretty loud,” he murmured as he stood and headed for the bathroom. He tossed the condom in the trash and bit his lip to keep from whistling as he washed his hands. This was going to be a disaster but he wasn’t going to let it stop him from enjoying every moment. He went to the bed then pointed. “Get under the covers,” he ordered and Rhys turned and began gathering the scattered and wrinkled pages on the bed. “Just leave those. I’m tired,” Fletcher insisted and Rhys shrugged then flipped the duvet back. He scooted back and Fletcher sat and immediately reached for him. He wrapped his body around Rhys and breathed him in as he shut his eyes. “Stay,” he whispered then drifted off as Rhys’ fingers sifted through his hair.


The Crush is available on Amazon!:

A NEW Dirty Book And A Very Dirty Chapter!

The Most Vulnerable Child


My son is 16 today. We’re going to make vanilla cupcakes and sugar cookies and go shopping for Nerf guns and Disney Cars toys.


There’s a man in town who breaks my heart every time I see him. He walks everywhere. You see him calamity-ing down the sidewalk, his backpack sliding down his arm as he juggles all the items he’s carrying. His hair is feather fine and greasy. His face is always dirty and his clothes are beyond saving. People avoid eye contact and give him a wide berth because he’s loud and he smells terrible. I can’t help but follow him and talk to him when I cross paths with him at the grocery store because I see my own son every time I look at him.


When Alex was younger, let’s say 6 or 7, I thought I had to use every day in April to make every person I knew aware that it was Autism Awareness month. I shared a different statistic or a link to an article or the ASA so they might make a donation. I wrote clever and gently emotional blog posts about the misadventures of parenting an autistic child. My tone was always upbeat and maybe cheekily stoic. If that’s possible. I’ve stopped as Alex has gotten older.


If you have a 6 or a 7 year old with Autism, the world has your back and you’re brave. When your child is 16 people get annoyed because he wanders in their path when they’re just trying to grab a few groceries and get out of the store before they see someone they know. People give him looks because he’s carrying a Build-A-Bear or a pillow pet and he does weird things with his hands. If you’re an adult with autism, maybe in your mid thirties, people give you a wide berth because you’re loud, dirty and smell like you walk the length and width of town twice a day.


When I talk to people about my writing, I’m often asked how I find the time to write a book almost every month. Don’t get it twisted. It doesn’t happen that often and the other question I hear a lot is “Why?”. But people are mostly (mildly) impressed because I have time for 50,000 or so words a month. It’s not that hard to believe if you take sleep out of the equation. When you have a child with severe autism, sleep stops being your friend and the nights are awful. Writing books in my head about wars and the politics of Pre WWI Europe and Russia was how I kept my brain from spiraling during the quiet hours of the night. I just repurposed that time into physical writing and that’s how we got here.


If you have a child with autism you go to assheaded lengths to avoid the quiet moments in your head and you save yourself by laughing as much and as often as you can. If you’re smart. When it’s quiet and there’s nothing to laugh at you ask yourself the hard questions and you worry about things that can only hurt your heart. I worry about what’s going to happen to Alex when I’m not here anymore and how much of a burden he’s going to be on his sisters’ futures. I worry about him being the man no one wants to look at or stand next to in line at the grocery store. I know the life expectancy for a woman who can’t fall asleep without a sleeping pill, a tranquilizer and smoking a few bowls isn’t that generous. I’m going out like Michael Jackson or it’s going to be cancer.



If I see 60 I’m going to be quite nonplussed. I write like my ass is on fire because my books will exist as long as there’s an internet and my girls and their children might be able to find more clever ways to market them than I can. I write because it might save Alex later. The services for people with autism wanes as they become adults, as does the compassion of those around them.


Autism Awareness month isn’t the megaphone for advocating and support that it used to be, for me. Now, it’s a month of reflecting on how much we’ve lost or what we’re never going to get. It’s also prom season and I see all the things Alex isn’t going to do with his peers. He isn’t even in high school. I’ve homeschooled him for the last five years because there aren’t enough resources in the school system and we couldn’t get to the root of what was scaring him bad enough to wet his pants every time I dropped him off. But he’s never going to ask a girl (or boy) to prom, drive a car or graduate from college. Autism Awareness month has become a month of disappointment as I’ve grown to realize that all the awareness, sympathy and empathy is reserved for toddlers and younger children. The awareness and support slows to a trickle and then becomes a negligent drip as autistic children become teenagers and adults. People stop making eye contact and the gentle, patient smiles and nods dry up by the time there’s acne and a few intrepid chin hairs.


It’s getting harder to write about Alex because I feel myself becoming more bitter as he gets older. I used to push for some intellectual or emotional growth every day. I wanted him to be better at telling time or tying his shoes because in my head, those were one less thing my girls would have to struggle with, when I’m not there. But the list of things I have to teach him keeps getting bigger and the hours get shorter. How do I teach someone with the intellectual maturity of a 4 year old to shave? How do I make the world easier for a man who will never be older than 6?


My little boy is 16 today. Instead of looking forward and wondering where he’ll go to college or when he’ll start his own family, I worry about how much less there is for him in the world as he gets older. I worry about how much taller he is than me and what we’ll do when he realizes he’s already stronger. I pray he’ll get to live with me until I die and he doesn’t have to go to a home or spend his days medicated into passivity.


I stopped writing about parenting an autistic child because parents like me don’t need another brave face or to hear an exhausted mom say “Fuck Autism.” in every way she can articulate.  Mostly, I realized I don’t like a lot of the people who blog about parenting. Especially those with disabled children. I can always see their forced smiles and I catch the panic in their eyes, I can hear their internal screaming as they laugh about scrubbing poop off walls and tantrums in Walmart. Stop trying to make it look fun and easy. Stop telling the rest of us that we have to act like this is just fine. Quit lying.


As the mother of a 16 year old with autism, I just ask that you be kind. When you see a that man in the store, don’t look away and let him struggle on his own. Know that he’s probably lost his mother and she tried her best to make him as strong as she could but there just wasn’t enough time. Remember that the world got harder and less patient as he got older. People cared less because he wasn’t small and cute and the people he spent his whole life depending on have died or have lives of their own. Autism doesn’t go away as people get older, we just become less aware of them.



The Most Vulnerable Child