Welcome To Beldon Hall, My Perverts!

BeldonHall

Look at what we have here, my lovely Perverts! I’d like to say I kept this one close to the chest because I wanted it to be a lovely Halloween surprise. That was a very large factor but I’ve also been stupid busy. Something happens toward the end of September, the rest of the year seems to roll end over end down the hill in its hurry to land in a jumbled but glowing mess at the bottom of the year. We weren’t sure how or when we’d publish The Madmen of Beldon Hall, we didn’t even have a cover until about twelve hours ago. But I was inspired to try something totally different because I’m a nerd and Halloween is my favorite after Thanksgiving. All the carbs are there and my body is approximately 50% gravy.

I was just setting out on what probably would have been a sinker when a darker, twistier story started to peck at the back of my brain. I’m not immune to the siren call of the Halloween costume and candy explosion at Target, I see a sequined covered skull or a sexy pumpkin and I’m in the mood for Poe and Brontë. And I’d recently rewatched Rebecca and I wanted my own Manderley. “Oh, shit. I’m about to give you Gay Gothic, for your nerves,” I decided and that’s exactly what we did.

This one is intensely dark, at its core. I couldn’t publish it without including a warning. But there’s also so much light, laughter and glorious gay sex. I’m still me and you know I can’t keep a straight face for more than a moment and it has to feel good. If you’ve longed for a Gothic Romance featuring a brooding earl and donkey punching, holy shit, I’ve totally delivered.

I’m not giving you a large, super naughty excerpt this time. I’m giving you my very favorite chapter. It’s short and gives absolutely nothing away. Deal with it:

 

“I’d love you to love me! I’m begging you to beg me! I want you to want meeee!” Byron sang loudly and Alastair’s cheeks puffed out as he leaned against the bathroom door and girded things. Mornings were both the highlight of Alastair’s day and an exquisitely painful battery of tortures.

It usually began with the singing. It was always the same song and Alastair would never hear it and not get a semi. He loved Byron’s voice and he was energetic and optimistic as he danced and pouted in front of the mirror as he shaved. And he was so adorably sincere as he begged to be loved as he brushed his teeth or sang into his hairbrush. Alastair ached to pull him into his arms and spin him around the bathroom as he sang at the top of his lungs but he felt too damaged and dark. He couldn’t imagine holding something so bright and joyful in his hands and not breaking it.

“Oh, didn’t I, didn’t I, didn’t I see you cryin’?”

There were times when Alastair genuinely wanted to cry. Byron wasn’t the least bit shy. His casual locker room attitude was killing Alastair. He’d hop and wiggle his ass as he sang and the most Alastair could ever hope for was a pair of boxers. Or not hope for. A hysterical laugh burst from his throat and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was never sure if he was disappointed or relieved whenever Byron put on his boxers but they only made it slightly easier for Alastair to breathe.

And the touching! His fingers would trail down Alastair’s spine before he reached around him for the toothpaste or he’d pull him against his chest briefly as they passed each other at the sink. He was always teasing and playful but he was ruthless and brazen in the bathroom. Alastair loved it and as painful as the rest of his day would be, he sprinted out of bed every morning as soon as his eyes opened because he didn’t want to miss a minute of it.

“Feelin’ all alone without a friend, you know you feel like dyin!”

For the first time in his life, Alastair wasn’t alone. He was starting to suspect he might be happy, for the first time as well.

“I’d love you to love me,” Alastair whispered then took a deep breath and opened the door.

 

The Madmen of Beldon Hall is available on Amazon!

http://amzn.to/2gEiwNr

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Welcome To Beldon Hall, My Perverts!

New! Lavender’s Back And He’s Gayer And More Dangerous Than Ever.

My Pervy Reader,

Book #30 had to be special. It had to be a big deal. I had to bring back my Lake Cliff boys. Bleed And Seek is special and it’s a very big deal. It’s full of sex, danger and love. And laughter. We’ll always find time to laugh. Life is not as it seems in Lake Cliff and secrets, lies and time have a way of catching up with us in the end.

BleedAndKeep

 

Wondering what Lavender’s been up to while we’ve been away? Here’s a peek at the first chapter of Bleed And Seek, available on Amazon: http://amzn.to/2xxwmIB.

 

“Make sure the jet’s ready to go and I need those pictures on my phone by the time I land in Paris,” Lavender said as he stepped into an elevator at the Park Lane Four Seasons. He pretended to see a scuff on the toe of his shoe as he turned away from the camera.

“The jet’s waiting and a car will pick you up at the west exit,” Denver said and Lavender’s eyes narrowed at the sound of gunfire in the background.

“I hope I’m not catching you at an inconvenient time. Would you like to call me when you’re done with your game?” He asked as he rubbed the top of his shoe against his calf.

“No, I’m cool. I see eight men. Six in the living slash dining room and two in the bedroom. The two in the back appear to be fighting,” Denver said absently and Lavender rolled his eyes as he ended the call. He pushed the phone into his back pocket as the doors opened. He stepped into the hall and pulled his gloves from his pocket and tugged them on as he slowly made his way toward the Blue Suite. Lavender hummed softly and his brows pulled together as he tried to recall the name of the piece.

“We were just there last night,” he complained as he mentally replayed the scene from the opera in his head then waved it off before he tapped his knuckles on the suite’s door.

He reached into his coat and pulled two guns from his holster just as the door opened. A large black man’s eyes widened in shock as Lavender pulled the triggers and two red stains spread across his chest. Lavender kicked the door wide then grabbed the front of the man’s shirt as he swayed and hid behind him as he aimed over his shoulder and took down a large Syrian behind the bar. Two bullets punched Lavender’s body shield as he put a round between the eyes of a shorter Syrian by the window and the glass cracked behind him as he slid to the floor.

Lavender pushed the body away then spun around a wall, into a small alcove. He glanced at his watch and nodded. He was making good time. One of the bodyguards ran behind the bar and ducked just as Lavender shot out the lamp and shattered the large mirror at the back of the bar. The glass spilled down the wall and demolished the bottles, decanters and glasses. Lavender tilted away as bullets pelted the molding next to his head then set the guns on the desk and reached for a newspaper. A headline caught his eye for a moment and he smirked before he crumpled it in his fist then reached into his pocket for a lighter. Lavender lit the ball of paper and gave it a moment to catch before he tossed it at the bar. A second later, there was a loud poof! as flames spread across the bar and up the wall. The last two bodyguards jumped from behind the couch and ran for the door as Lavender reached for his guns. He stepped out of the alcove and shot one guard through the temple and the other twice, between the shoulder blades then dropped the guns.

The bodyguard behind the bar screamed in Levantine Arabic and flames spread up his side as he ran at Lavender. He pulled a gun from behind his back and shot the guard between the eyes as he grabbed the front of his jacket. It took four shots to get the door to the bedroom to open and Lavender’s face and hand were uncomfortably hot by the time he was able to throw his human Molotov cocktail into the room. A man yelled in horror and Lavender’s arm swung toward him as he hurried into the room. He found his target as he pulled the other gun from behind his back.

“Please!” Omar al-Otari cried as he dropped his gun and held up his hands. Lavender’s eyes swept to the other person in the room and his finger relaxed on the trigger.

“Put on your clothes,” Lavender said calmly to the girl weeping and cowering in the corner. Her face was battered and bloody and her body was covered in bruises and scratches.

“You can take her if you want her and I’ll pay you whatev…” Otari’s eyes crossed and his mouth drooped as a bullet passed through his forehead and his brain sprayed the curtain behind him.

“I’m not interested,” Lavender said as he tossed the guns on the bed then reached into his coat and removed his wallet. He grabbed all the paper money in the billfold as the girl threw herself at him. Lavender held her off as he pushed the money at her. “I didn’t come to rescue you. Take this and forget you saw me,” he said as he gave her a severe look. She nodded then bolted from the room. Lavender grabbed the laptop off the table and put it in the small refrigerator as he quickly backed out of the room so it wouldn’t be damaged by the sprinklers. He turned and edged around the flames engulfing the bar then looked up as the fire alarms shrieked. Lavender slipped into the hall and dashed to the nearest stairwell just before the hallway filled with curious and panicked guests. He jogged down the steps to the next landing and hid behind the door just as it was pushed open and people spilled past him and down the stairs. He held it open and waved for people to hurry then followed the last person down. Everyone remained relatively calm and Lavender gripped an elderly man’s shoulder reassuringly as they waited at the exit to the west parking lot. “We’re just about out,” he said soothingly and the man nodded as he craned his neck to see around the people ahead of them.

Once outside, Lavender pretended to be concerned until they found the man’s son then waved farewell before he turned and hurried around a large cluster of irritated guests and into the open door of a Bentley. The door shut and the driver pulled away from the curb a moment later. Lavender lowered the window and tossed out his gloves then pulled his phone from his back pocket. He muttered a curse as he dialed Denver then rolled his eyes as he waited through several rings.

“Looks like everything went well. The fire was a nice touch,” he said and Lavender snorted.

“There were seven men,” he said sharply.

“Huh?” Denver grunted.

“Seven men and one very young woman. I’m not even sure she was of legal age,” Lavender clarified and the line was silent for several moments. “Reginald would have known,” he scolded.

“Still eight, though,” Denver said dismissively and Lavender’s tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek.

“You’re to make it completely and extremely clear that I am not considering any new jobs and you’re just holding down the fort until Reginald returns,” he said and Denver sighed.

“That’s such a waste, sir,” he complained and Lavender shook his head as he checked his watch again. He needed to board that jet in thirty minutes. Lavender checked the traffic and relaxed, everything looked like it was moving along.

“Any word on the fire?” He asked and Denver hummed under his breath as he checked.

“Looks like the sprinklers and staff handled it and no one was injured. I mean, aside from Otari and his crew,” he said and Lavender tugged at his sleeves as he sat back.

“Good. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but if you ever call me in the middle of the night for anything unrelated to mine or my husband’s life and death, I will drown you in your own blood,” he said nonchalantly and Denver was silent for several moments. It was long enough for Lavender to imagine hog tying him then putting him face down in a bathtub.

“Sorry. But the United States thanks you for your assistance in the War On Terror. The money was just deposited into your account,” he said cheerfully and Lavender stifled a yawn. The new “temp” Reginald recommended was a nightmare. He was an American and a former intel analyst. He was gifted but lacked Reginald’s breeding, restraint and attention to detail. For all of Reginald’s many faults, he understood Lavender’s needs and knew just how much he could get away with.

“You’re not to call me, Denver. I don’t care how big the job is or who it’s for. If you call me again and make my husband ask questions, I’ll kill you slowly.”

“Got it, boss,” Denver said. “It looks like you’re running on time. You’ve got a fresh suit in the jet and your dinner reservations are for 9:00. I watched Rose’s live feed, she enjoyed her walk and is snoring like a chainsaw,” he added and Lavender nodded.

“That’s all for now. I’ll call you if I need anything,” he said then ended the call. “I never thought I’d miss Reginald,” he muttered as he searched the internet for the newspaper article he spotted earlier. He sighed and glanced out the window as he waited for a flash of guilt to pass. It was the third job in eight months. He was able to keep his nose clean for fourteen months after Petrovich then fell off the wagon while in Italy with Sage. While Lavender didn’t miss taking lives, he missed the act of taking lives terribly. The preparation and planning, the feel of his guns in his hands, matching his reflexes and skill against his opponent’s, the steadying of his nerves and the sharpening of his focus as he took out his target. It was all of that and a lot of fucking adrenaline. It was everything his otherwise perfect life lacked so every job felt like an act of infidelity. “This is the last time,” he insisted under his breath as he turned his attention back to his phone.

Less than three hours later, Lavender jogged up the steps toward the Musée d’Orsay and Sage waved before he hurried toward him.

“How was the Degas exhibit?” He asked as he caught Sage and pulled him close.

“Amazing. It’s Thursday night, they’re open late. We can run in and take a lap,” Sage offered and Lavender shook his head as their lips brushed.

“We can try and squeeze it in tomorrow before we leave but we’ve got dinner reservations and we’ll never make it to Hexagone if we don’t leave now,” he said and Sage gasped.

“You’re so amazing!” He declared as they made their way down the steps and the driver rushed around the car and opened the door.

“I didn’t get to spend the first half of the evening with you, I want to make sure the rest of the night is special,” Lavender said and Sage glared teasingly.

“We came to Paris because you needed to meet with your textile suppliers, not so you could spoil me,” he argued as he ducked into the backseat. Lavender offered the driver a nod before he lowered then slid onto the seat next to him.

“I’m allowed to do both,” he said as he reclined and pulled Sage so he was resting against his chest. “Tell me what you think of these patterns, I’m having a hard time making up my mind,” Lavender said as he swiped at his phone’s screen and found pictures of numerous fabric samples.

 

Bleed And Seek is here and my boys of Lake Cliff are waiting for you. Go get them.

 

http://amzn.to/2xxwmIB

LLSeries

New! Lavender’s Back And He’s Gayer And More Dangerous Than Ever.

#30 Is Coming. Your Favorite Gay Assassin Is Back And Worse Than Ever.

Aiden7:26

We’re getting closer, my lovely Perverts! #30 is almost ready for editing and I’m so damn excited. I thought I’d give you a peek at the first chapter because I know we’re all wondering what Lavender’s been up to while we’ve been away. We don’t have a title and we’re still a few weeks from being presentable but you know how much I hate keeping secrets. Here’s your excerpt, go get your man:

“Make sure the jet’s ready to go and I need those pictures on my phone by the time I land in Paris,” Lavender said as he stepped into an elevator at the Park Lane Four Seasons. He pretended to see a scuff on the toe of his shoe as he turned away from the camera.

“The jet’s waiting and a car will pick you up at the west exit,” Denver said and Lavender’s eyes narrowed at the sound of gunfire in the background.

“I hope I’m not catching you at an inconvenient time. Would you like to call me when you’re done with your game?” He asked as he rubbed the top of his shoe against his calf.

“No, I’m cool. I see eight men. Six in the living slash dining room and two in the bedroom. The two in the back appear to be fighting,” Denver said absently and Lavender rolled his eyes as he ended the call. He pushed the phone into his back pocket as the doors opened. He stepped into the hall and pulled his gloves from his pocket and tugged them on as he slowly made his way toward the Blue Suite. Lavender hummed softly and his brows pulled together as he tried to recall the name of the piece.

“We were just there last night,” he complained as he mentally replayed the scene from the opera in his head then waved it off before he tapped his knuckles on the suite’s door.

He reached into his coat and pulled two guns from his holster just as the door opened. A large black man’s eyes widened in shock as Lavender pulled the triggers and two red stains spread across his chest. Lavender kicked the door wide then grabbed the front of the man’s shirt as he swayed and hid behind him as he aimed over his shoulder and took down a large Syrian behind the bar. Two bullets punched Lavender’s body shield as he put a round between the eyes of a shorter Syrian by the window and the glass cracked behind him as he slid to the floor.

Lavender pushed the body away then spun around a wall, into a small alcove. He glanced at his watch and nodded. He was making good time. One of the bodyguards ran behind the bar and ducked just as Lavender shot out the lamp and shattered the large mirror at the back of the bar. The glass spilled down the wall and demolished the bottles, decanters and glasses. Lavender tilted away as bullets pelted the molding next to his head then set the guns on the desk and reached for the newspaper. A headline caught his eye for a moment and he smirked before he crumpled it in his fist then reached into his pocket for a lighter. Lavender lit the ball of paper and gave it a moment to catch before he tossed it at the bar. A second later, there was a loud poof! as flames spread across the bar and up the wall. The last two bodyguards jumped from behind the couch and ran for the door as Lavender reached for his guns. He stepped out of the alcove and shot one guard through the temple and the other twice, between the shoulder blades then dropped the guns.

The bodyguard behind the bar screamed in Levantine Arabic and flames spread up his side as he ran at Lavender. He pulled a gun from behind his back and shot the guard between the eyes as he grabbed the front of his jacket. It took four shots to get the door to the bedroom to open and Lavender’s face and hand were uncomfortably hot by the time he was able to throw his human Molotov cocktail into the room. A man yelled in horror and Lavender’s arm swung toward him as he hurried into the room. He found his target as he pulled the other gun from behind his back.

“Please!” Omar al-Otari cried as he dropped his gun and held up his hands. Lavender’s eyes swept to the other person in the room and his finger relaxed on the trigger.

“Put on your clothes,” Lavender said calmly to the girl weeping and cowering in the corner. Her face was battered and bloody and her body was covered in bruises and scratches.

“You can take her if you want her and I’ll pay you whatev…” Otari’s eyes crossed and his mouth drooped as a bullet passed through his forehead and his brain sprayed the curtain behind him.

“I’m not interested,” Lavender said as he tossed the guns on the bed then reached into his coat and removed his wallet. He grabbed all the paper money in the billfold as the girl threw herself at him. Lavender held her off as he pushed the money at her. “I didn’t come to rescue you. Take this and forget you saw me,” he said as he gave her a severe look. She nodded then bolted from the room. Lavender grabbed the laptop off the table and put it in the small refrigerator as he quickly backed out of the room so it wouldn’t be damaged by the sprinklers. He turned and edged around the flames engulfing the bar then looked up as the fire alarms shrieked. Lavender slipped into the hall and dashed to the nearest stairwell just before the hallway filled with curious and panicked guests. He jogged down the steps to the next landing and hid behind the door just as it was pushed open and people spilled past him and down the stairs. He held it open and waved for people to hurry then followed the last person down. Everyone remained relatively calm and Lavender gripped an elderly man’s shoulder reassuringly as they waited at the exit to the west parking lot. “We’re just about out,” he said soothingly and the man nodded as he craned his neck to see around the people ahead of them.

Once outside, Lavender pretended to be concerned until they found the man’s son then waved farewell before he turned and hurried around a large cluster of irritated guests and into the open door of a Bentley. The door shut and the driver pulled away from the curb a moment later. Lavender lowered the window and tossed out his gloves then pulled his phone from his back pocket. He muttered a curse as he dialed Denver then rolled his eyes as he waited through several rings.

“Looks like everything went well. The fire was a nice touch,” he said and Lavender snorted.

“There were seven men,” he said sharply.

“Huh?” Denver grunted.

“Seven men and one very young woman. I’m not even sure she was of legal age,” Lavender clarified and the line was silent for several moments. “Reginald would have known,” he scolded.

“Still eight, though,” Denver said dismissively and Lavender’s tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek.

“You’re to make it completely and extremely clear that I am not considering any new jobs and you’re just holding down the fort until Reginald returns,” he said and Denver sighed.

“That’s such a waste, sir,” he complained and Lavender shook his head as he checked his watch again. He needed to board that jet in thirty minutes. Lavender checked the traffic and relaxed, everything looked like it was moving along.

“Any word on the fire?” He asked and Denver hummed under his breath as he checked.

“Looks like the sprinklers and staff handled it and no one was injured. I mean, aside from Otari and his crew,” he said and Lavender tugged at his sleeves as he sat back.

“Good. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but if you ever call me in the middle of the night for anything unrelated to mine or my husband’s life and death, I will drown you in your own blood,” he said nonchalantly and Denver was silent for several moments. It was long enough for Lavender to imagine hog tying him then putting him face down in a bathtub.

“Sorry. But the United States thanks you for your assistance in the War On Terror. The money was just deposited into your account,” he said cheerfully and Lavender stifled a yawn. The new “temp” Reginald recommended was a nightmare. He was an American and a former intel analyst. He was gifted but lacked Reginald’s breeding, restraint and attention to detail. For all of Reginald’s many faults, he understood Lavender’s needs and knew just how much he could get away with.

“You’re not to call me, Denver. I don’t care how big the job is or who it’s for. If you call me again and make my husband ask questions, I’ll kill you slowly.”

“Got it, boss,” Denver said. “It looks like you’re running on time. You’ve got a fresh suit in the jet and your dinner reservations are for 9:00. I watched Rose’s live feed and she enjoyed her walk and is snoring like a chainsaw,” he added and Lavender nodded.

“That’s all for now. I’ll call you if I need anything,” he said then ended the call. “I never thought I’d miss Reginald,” he muttered as he searched the internet for the newspaper article he spotted earlier. He sighed and glanced out the window as he waited for a flash of guilt to pass. It was the third job in eight months. He was able to keep his nose clean for fourteen months after Petrovich then fell off the wagon while in Italy with Sage. While Lavender didn’t miss taking lives, he missed the act of taking lives terribly. The preparation and planning, the feel of his guns in his hands, matching his reflexes and skill against his opponent’s, the steadying of his nerves and the sharpening of his focus as he took out his target. It was all of that and lot of fucking adrenaline. It was everything his otherwise perfect life lacked so every job felt like an act of infidelity. “This is the last time,” he insisted under his breath as he turned his attention back to his phone.

Less than three hours later, Lavender jogged up the steps toward the Musée d’Orsay and Sage waved before he hurried toward him.

“How was the Degas exhibit?” He asked as he caught Sage and pulled him close.

“Amazing. It’s Thursday night, they’re open late. We can run in and take a lap,” Sage offered and Lavender shook his head as their lips brushed.

“We can try and squeeze it in tomorrow before we leave but we’ve got dinner reservations and we’ll never make it to Hexagone if we don’t leave now,” he said and Sage gasped.

“You’re so amazing!” He declared as they made their way down the steps and the driver rushed around the car and opened the door.

“I didn’t get to spend the first half of the evening with you so I want to make sure the rest of the night is special,” Lavender said and Sage glared teasingly.

“We came to Paris because you needed to meet with your textile suppliers, not so you could spoil me,” he argued as he ducked into the backseat. Lavender offered the driver a nod before he lowered then slid onto the seat next to him.

“I’m allowed to do both,” he said as he reclined and pulled Sage so he was resting against his chest. “Tell me what you think of these patterns, I’m having a hard time making up my mind,” Lavender said as he swiped at his phone’s screen and found pictures of numerous fabric samples.

 

 

 

There’s time for you to catch up! You can find Lavender and the rest of my Lake Cliff boys on Amazon!:

http://amzn.to/2vlWAva

#30 Is Coming. Your Favorite Gay Assassin Is Back And Worse Than Ever.

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.

LLSeries

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:

AidenJ17

New Covers And New News!

A New Book And A Free Dirty Chapter!

Available on Amazon now!

http://amzn.to/2tvRRYn

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

Brightest3

 

“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 Most Vulnerable Child

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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.

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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.

 

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The Most Vulnerable Child