Z.A. Maxfield's Blog, page 29

The bare wooden dock beneath Jack’s back held the warmth of the setting sun. Nick padded over and dropped down beside him, still dripping cold water from the lake.

Jack squinted.

Nick was little more than a wide black shape with the light of the sun behind him — impossible to look at without hurting Jack’s eyes.

Nick was tough to look at anyway. He’d always seemed bright and cold as a distant star. Even so, Jack’s cock twitched as he lay there, helplessly pinned by Nick’s knowing blue gaze.

“Are you still going to love me when we get back home?” Nick criss-crossed his legs, surreptitiously watching as his tanned adolescent body ripple with new muscle. Nick had power he was barely learning to wield and grace he entirely was unaware of. His feral smile promised dark adventure as he lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “Are you still going to be my boy, Jackie?”

“Y-yes.” Jack’s mouth went dry. “I’ll always–”

“Hey Nick. Heads up!”

Somebody lobbed a football their way. Nick leapt up after it, catching it effortlessly before it could fall to the dock and wobble off into the water.

“Heads up yourself, asshole.” He rifled the ball back to the shore and turned back to Jack.

“Nick.” Nick’s friend shouted. “You coming or what?”

“Be there in a second.”

“Aw.” Someone else called. “Why you gotta babysit your little girlfriend all the time, man? We’re waiting.”

Laughing, Nick flipped him off. “You can fucking wait longer, then.”

Jack turned away. “Why do you let them talk to you like that?”

“You mean why do I let them talk about you like that, don’t you?”

“It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

Nick froze. “The hell it is.”

Jack felt Nick’s footsteps vibrate through the boards beneath his body as Nick pounded away after his friends.

Okay! Here’s how you do it! Guess the title of the Z.A. Maxfield book this teaser comes from to get an ebook copy of the book in question or any other book from my backlist. Be sure to give me a valid email address so I know where to send your ebook. The 7th person to email me with the correct title  WINS!

Email me at zamaxfield @ zamaxfield (dot) com and put Tuesday Teasers in the subject line!

Aaaaand…Pretty soon I’ll be inviting friends to join me here every Tuesday and hopefully, you’ll get a crack at winning a special guest author’s book. That will be fun, won’t it? (Seeing as how some of my friends are bestselling m/m romance authors and a chance to win one of their books would be AWESOME.) Look for something new come October. I’ll be kicking Tuesday Teasers: The Guest Factor into high gear during GRL month.

This Tuesday Teaser is another tough one. Shall we play GUESS THE BOOK?

Last Week’s Winners : Karen! (It was Secret Light… kind of an obscure one, I think)

Whilst we’re at it, I’d like to invite you to subscribe to my newsletter, for free stories, exclusive contests, and all the news before anyone else gets it! Coming up, I have a cover reveal, a deleted scene, and more fun and games with cowboys!

***** pulled a large basket up next to the cot, overturning it. He thought it might hold his weight, but sat down gingerly to test it. As for speaking to this…person, this almost-man who’d caused him so much grief, now that he was here he found he had very little to say.

“I expected something more,” ***** said, mostly to himself.

Before him, the bundle of rags and skin gave up a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a deep, gut-wrenching sob. “Me too, man.”

“****.” ***** tried the name. “That’s your name, right? **********?”

“*******,” came the curt reply.

“You don’t like to be called ****?”

The boy looked away.

“How old are you?”

No answer.

“Are you in high school?”

“Twenty.”

***** glanced at the boy’s body briefly. He was lying on his side with his knees drawn to his chest. It was impossible to tell how old he was. His face, though bruised and caked with blood, was fairly smooth. “You don’t look twenty.”

“Sorry. I’m not exactly going to bring my ID to commit a crime.”

“You don’t talk like a gangbanger.”

“Again. Sorry if I’m a disappointment to you. I guess I should try to do better in the future. Not that I’ll have the chance.”

Good Luck!

One of the best things about my writing career is all the wonderful friends I’ve made over the years. Many of my internet pals have become in-person friends. We share adventures in writing, and often we have the opportunity to meet up at conventions like Romantic Times Book Lovers’ convention or GayRomLit.

I always wanted to find a way to just ask a few over for branch, and this became the idea for this blog.

Each Sunday I’ll invite a couple friends over and ask a question. My friends will share their answers with me. You, gentle readers, can give your answer to my question in the comment section below. I’ll choose one random person from the comments and reward them with an ebook surprise, it’s that simple! Comments are moderated, so don’t despair if you’re not posted immediately! No comments last week? Commenters will be entered into a drawing, so don’t be SHY!

We’ve got some of your sizzling favorites authors, right here, talking about what they’d wish for, if they were ever granted a genie’s wish…

This week’s question:

A genie grants you one wish, what is it? (Not more wishes!)

A life of sexual adventures! Doesn’t that cover it all? If a person is happily satisfied within the bedroom, it will transfer into other areas of life. Great sex equates to a positive can-do-it attitude in other areas. Plus, it provides plenty of fodder to write about. (Ahem.)

Ever have magical hotel sex? You know, sparkling soft white comforter and sheets – the kind that would never last in a home – and all the cares and the worries of the world disappear. No responsibilities. You can languish and enjoy every single moment. It’s where the enchantment happens.

And when reality slows down to be less than? Well, I pull out my favorite books. — Author Louisa Bacio

Available via Ravenous Romance, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other eRetailers.

World peace…WAIT…no. That’s not it. It would be all well and good to have world peace, but that is not what I would wish. Nope. I wish–for just enough. I’ll elaborate. I wish for just enough of everything.

Can I do that?

I might have to spell it out more or who knows what I could end up with. I’ve watched those genie movies! So I want just enough money so I can be happy, but not outrageously rich. I could wish for riches beyond my imagination, but I don’t need that because money isn’t everything.

I know I wouldn’t wish for true love because that would just be false. You can’t wish for someone to love you, they have to do that on their own. Okay…now that I think about it…I take it back. I’ll wish for world peace. — Author Jambrea Jo Jones

True Colors, available at:

Amazon, ARE

If a genie was to grant me one wish (and not more wishes) I would want a machine that I could hook up to my brain. It would see the same crazy stuff that I do, the stuff that inspires my erotic m/m romances, and type it out for me (edited and proofread, of course).

When I see a scene for one of my books, I literally see it play out in my head like a movie. I can see the bright vivid colors, smell the fragrances that float on the breeze, and hear what people are saying, how they say it, what tone of voices they use, everything. I try to convey that in my writing so that the reader can see and feel what I do.

This “machine” that I would wish for would help with that sooo much. I could just work the scene out in my head until I  had it just right then say “print” and the machine would type it all out on my laptop…ready to be submitted.

Alas, until this wonderful writer’s aid is invented, I must do it the old fashioned way…nap! — Author Stormy Glenn

Heart of a Mate, Scent of a Mate, Available at Bookstrand, Here

I was looking for change.

Specifically, I needed six quarters for the dryer, only  at 2:00 a.m. there was never anyone around to ask and the weather outside was foul.

When the elevator stopped at the lobby level, my heart gave an unaccustomed lurch of hope, but then the doors parted to reveal 3C dude, my neighbor, the mystery man.

He got in and the doors closed. I snuck a glance at him while pretending to not-stare in agonizing silence.

Snow frosted the shoulders of his techno-parka — one of those high tech gear things, engineered to keep him warm on the ice ball formerly known as planet Pluto. When he tipped his head in greeting it fell off his Indiana Jones hat and melted instantly on the elevator’s already moldy carpet.

It hadn’t melted on his head. That’s how cool he is.

“Hello.” He eyed me in a way that said he’d probably climbed rock walls more interesting than me. Maybe that was my imagination.

I screwed my courage to the sticking place, because lit professors may not always advertise our cool from the outside, but we have a lot going on inside.  Really. We do. “I need uh…six quarters. Do you — by any chance — have any?”

3C dude’s lips compressed into a thin line as he glanced down at his hands, which were full of luggage, apparently.

Oh…right. “You just came in from out of town?”

Again with the down-looking. Okay, yes. A pilot case, a camera bag, a backpack and– 

“I guess you did, huh?” I winced. “Uh…Can I help you with any of that?”

“If you carry this–” He handed over his smallest case and I nearly had to let it fall to the floor, it was so fucking heavy. Now I had hold of it, the thing was clearly was loop-it-over-your-shoulder-good-and-quick-or-it’s-going-to-fall-to-the-floor-and-break-something, heavy. “You can come with me. I have a change jar at my place.”

“Oh, thank you.” I staggered. “Lots of equipment, huh.”

“I guess.” His voice was like old-time elevator gears — slow grinding cogs and wheels pulling steel cables taut, hoisting sound from deep within his amazing body. ”Maybe you should push the up button now — unless of course you want to stay on the ground floor all night…?”

Oh my god. I positively smacked the button for the third floor. Unlike the elevator in my imagination, it rose smoothly, with little more than a whoosh of sound.

“You’re 3A, right?” he asked.

He knows where I live? I nodded too enthusiastically. Wait–he knows I’m alive! ”That’s me. Tripple A. I even have a card.” How corny…

“I’m 3C”

“I know.” I’d known from the moment he moved in. He was 3C: cool, competent, and cosmopolitan. He was all the good c’s, except maybe the one I was most interested in: curious about me.

The doors slid open and I followed him to his place, bowing under the weight of his equipment, and not in a good way, goddamnit. He opened the door and motioned to a console table in the entry where I could put his bag. “Let me just drop these in the bedroom.”

He left me to look around, so I inched my way farther inside. The whole hallway was a gallery of framed photographs, and these were the real deal too. Photojournalism stuff. Human suffering in all it’s naked glory — faces, in close up against the backdrop of every imaginable human misery.

Most of the images were of places I’d never been and couldn’t name, but I recognized Kashmir in a couple of pictures. I recognized Bangladesh. His work was…amazing. Poverty and despair and war and death. Beautiful and brilliant and terrible, all at once.

“Would you like a drink, 3C?”

He’d returned wearing a Green Day T-shirt and sleep pants. How had he gotten close enough for me to feel his breath in my hair without me noticing?

I wrenched my gaze from one of his more spectacular images, a joyous, colorful scene of the Hindu festival, Holi and offered my hand. ”I’m Rami.”

“Rami? Scott.” 3C held my hand a second too long before dropping it. “How about that drink?”

“I…uh.” I glanced back toward the hall. “Can I get my laundry sorted and then come back? The machine ate my money and then I had to move my clothes. I don’t want to just…”

“Ah, that’s right.” He left me standing there alone again for a second, but came back with a  jar of quarters. He counted six of them into my damp palm. “You were looking for change.” 

I nodded, breathless from just the touch of his fingers.

“Funny thing.” He let his gaze sweep over me. “Me too.”

Now you know my secret. I listen to this song every single day while I’m writing cowboy stories…

I’m pleased to announce the winner of the $50.00 Amazon Gift Certificate:

Lisa H.

And the three winners of the ebook copies of My Cowboy Heart:

Penumbra,  Renee S., and Jackie McKenzie!

I want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for making this the BEST book release experience of my entire writing career. You were kind to share your blogs, your Twitterverse, your Facebook pages with me. You signed up for my newsletters, you followed my posts, and you made me feel like the luckiest woman on earth!

Thanks for your kindess, I can’t wait to sit down and write another one, just for you!

I’m having so much fun doing these Tuesday Teasers, but I think eventually I’m going to run out of different books to tease you with.

Pretty soon I’ll be inviting friends to join me here every Tuesday and hopefully, you’ll get a crack at winning a special guest author’s book. That will be fun, won’t it? (Seeing as how some of my friends are bestselling m/m romance authors and a chance to win one of their books would be AWESOME.) Look for something new come October. I’ll be kicking Tuesday Teasers: The Guest Factor into high gear during GRL month.

This Tuesday Teaser is a tough one. Shall we play GUESS THE BOOK?

Last Week’s Winners : Debra and Linda!

Okay! Try to guess the title of the Z.A. Maxfield book this teaser comes from to get an ebook copy of the book in question or any other book from my backlist. Be sure to leave a valid email address so I know where to send your ebook. The 4th person to email me with the correct title  WINS an ebook from my backlist!

Email me at zamaxfield @ zamaxfield (dot) com and put Tuesday Teasers in the subject line!

Whilst we’re at it, I’d like to invite you to subscribe to my newsletter, for free stories, exclusive contests, and all the news before anyone else gets it! Coming up, I have a cover reveal, a deleted scene, and more fun and games with cowboys!

**** responded with astonishing passion, opening for dizzy, drugging kisses that reached all the way into ***’s soul.

Everything is going to be fine.

**** was perfect. Yielding and giving, he wrapped his arms around *** and welcomed him, stroking his back, his hair, and the sides of his face until *** pushed away, head spinning as he gazed down at his lover.

His lover.

*** felt oddly expansive — like he’d suddenly grown three sizes. Things were clearer in his mind. The air was purer, the ceiling higher, and the contrast between light and shadow more pronounced.

Everything fell into place as if time and gravity conspired together on his and ****’s behalf.

“This is nice.”

Understatement of the century.

One of the best things about my writing career is all the wonderful friends I’ve made over the years. Many of my internet pals have become in-person friends. We share adventures in writing, and often we have the opportunity to meet up at conventions like Romantic Times Book Lovers’ convention or GayRomLit.

I always wanted to find a way to just ask a few over for branch, and this became the idea for this blog.

Each Sunday I’ll invite a couple friends over and ask a question. My friends will share their answers with me. You, gentle readers, can give your answer to my question in the comment section below. I’ll choose one random person from the comments and reward them with an ebook surprise, it’s that simple! Comments are moderated, so don’t despair if you’re not posted immediately! No comments last week? Commenters will be entered into a drawing, so don’t be SHY!

This week’s question:

You’re a geneticist allowed to create one fantasy animal, describe it?

When I was sixteen or so, I started reading Anne McCaffrey’s Dragons of Pern series. Those flying, sentient, telepathic, fire-breathing beasts were magnificent! A companion, a protector, best friend, and well, flying! C’mon, who hasn’t wanted to fly?!? And as a burgeoning adult (as well as upon later rereads) I was able to appreciate the influence on sexual and romantic relationships. Not with the dragons! Minds out of the gutter! The dragons’ sexuality influenced their riders’ libido and choice of spouse. It was fascinating and hey, there were gay dragonriders, too. Go Anne McCaffrey! Seriously, I still love the idea of those dragons.

But, as a kid, I also wanted a pet cheetah I could ride to school, instead of having to take the school bus. Not sure why I never wished for a horse or a pony like most young girls, but there you have it. I wanted a cheetah. To ride. Apparently I have some sort of transportation fetish. This may explain why I’m so proud of having ridden a horse, a camel, and an elephant.

Anyway… any geneticist worth his or her salt ought to be able to come up with one of those Pern dragons, right? And it’s not asking too much to have it sometimes shift into a sentient, telepathic cheetah, right? I bet I’d have people lining up around the block to get one of my lovely creations. — Author KC Burn

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4157

So, if I was a geneticist, and I could create anything I wanted by gene splicing or some such, I would create….this:

Zam said to describe it, but this seemed easier all around….hope I didn’t stray too far from the parameters of the assignment….lol! (Plus, we just finished watching Harry Potter, Prisoner of Azkaban again tonight, and I realize now, this is, like the opposite of a hypogryph. Go figure…) — Author Jaime Samms (who is also a great artist)

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3780

And for a third author at our brunch table today: due to a slight miscalculation on my part, you only get me, (sorry). My Ideal Genetically Modified And Enhanced Animal would have the face of a llama, and maybe the body of a sheep, and some fluffy white wings. I love Llamas. There could be nothing better than a short fat fuzzy llama with wings.

Llamas hum when they’re content, and when they’re anxious they make this psycho honking sort of noise to alert their pals. They’re playful, and they pronk.  Who wouldn’t love one of those especially if it flies? — Author Z.A. Maxfield

Let’s get started on our fantasy animals now, shall we?

Jed just happened to be looking out the window of the bus at the precise moment the best looking man he’d ever seen glanced up.

Gray eyes. Had Jed ever met anyone with eyes that color before? Eyes like smoke and aerated water. Eyes whose pupils started out like inky pinpoints but blew wide as if their owner saw something that dumped a load of adrenaline into his veins…

Jed stood, and pressed his face to the glass to keep eye contact. When the bus swerved around a corner, the ache of loss felt like a hammer-blow. Without looking away from the sidewalk, he tangled his fingers in the plastic line overhead, yanking hard to signal his was the next stop — even though he was still over a mile from home.

When the man with the extraordinary gray eyes rounded the corner at a run, Jed let out a shuddering sigh of happiness. Maybe…

Maybe…

Jed’s heart thundered as he kept watch out the window. The girl beside him had her music turned up too loud. He heard the plaintive notes of a familiar song through her earbuds — he could almost hear the words.

One step closer…

Gray-eyes ran toward the bus stop, dodging dog walkers and twisting around women pulling wire shopping carts. So much steam billowed from a hot dog vendor’s cart that for a minute, Jed could no longer see him. A flood of sorrow washed over him, too tangible, too bitter to be the result of losing sight of a man he’d seen for a matter of seconds.

The bus came to a groaning, juddering stop and Jed stepped off. He stood waiting for a minute, hands anxiously repositioning his messenger bag at his side.

The girl with the earbuds got off after him. She bumped into him, dropping a stack books.  He couldn’t stop himself from helping her pick them up, even though it meant taking his eyes off the sidewalk. He glanced awkwardly the way they’d come…peering around her to see…nothing.

He could still her her music, even on the busy street, even as the bus roared off. He almost warned her to turn it down — almost told her listening to it loud like that could contribute to hearing loss, but once she had her books she’d marched off down the street.

He imagined he could hear the song, long after she left. 

One step closer…

Jed tried not to be obvious but his gaze swept the street again, past the hot dog cart, past the bodega where he’d probably get some ramen before returning home alone.

Again.

After a minute, common sense prevailed. Jed made up his mind to skip the store and simply retreat into the mute chill of his empty walk-up — into framed black and white photographs cut from magazines and brick-and-board book cases full of mystery novels and the futon from college.

He turned and ran smack into a solid wall of muscle with gray eyes.

“Hey.” A smile like the brightness of a thousands suns lit up the area around them. “I saw you on the bus, looking at me. Do we know each other?”

“I don’t think so.” Jed shook his head, couldn’t stop shaking it. No, no, no. This doesn’t happen to me.

“Shouldn’t we?” Teeth clamped on the man’s full, soft lower lip, suddenly doubtful, when their owner had chased a bus over half a mile because of a single glance. “Do you think we should get to know each other before you look at me like that?”

Jed’s head bobbed, yes. Kept bobbing. “I think so. Yes.”

A thousand tiny bubbles tickled Jed’s heart with a sensation so old and unfamiliar, it took him a while to realize what it was…

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops – at all – Emily Dickinson

This Tuesday Teaser is a day late! So sorry. I guess I should call it Wednesday Woolgathering or something! I got so caught up in the back to school hoopla, I forgot to post this until late on Tuesday night when I was too tired to crawl out of bed and do it. (I know, that’s why I’m supposed to schedule these ahead!) 

Mea culpa, I’ll do better next week, in the mean time, I’ll pick TWO winners for this one, because it might be an obscure choice. Correct emails number 5 and 10 will be winners today, Good Luck!

Last Week’s Winner :  Karen!

Okay! Try to guess the title of the Z.A. Maxfield book this teaser comes from to get an ebook copy of the book in question or any other book from my backlist. Be sure to leave a valid email address so I know where to send your ebook. The 9th person to email me with the correct title  WINS an ebook from my backlist!

Email me at zamaxfield @ zamaxfield (dot) com and put Tuesday Teasers in the subject line!

Whilst we’re at it, I’d like to invite you to subscribe to my newsletter, for free stories, exclusive contests, and all the news before anyone else gets it! Coming up, I have a cover reveal, a deleted scene, and more fun and games with cowboys!

**** was adjusting to all of this when iron clanked against stone right in front of him.

He took an apprehensive step back and that’s when the circle of light from *******’* lantern fell onto the face of a young boy.

**** jumped.

“It’s all right. He can’t hurt you,” *******’* tone was reassuring. “The iron makes him weak. He has less strength than a child half his age.”

**** was speechless. He’d never encountered anything as appalling as this. He wondered how long ******** had been trafficking in underage boys.

**** ground his teeth together and the boy look up at him as though he’d heard. “What is your name,” **** asked stupidly.

“He doesn’t speak, ********, not with the iron around his throat.” The man frowned at him. “I thought you had some idea of what you were getting into here?”

“I’ll set up the transfer; prepare him to be moved,” **** told the man, wondering how he’d bluff his way through this. He had no idea who he needed to pay and he didn’t know how much. ”Let’s go through the particulars again though, I find that I drank rather too much last night and I’m just a little…”

“Fine,” snapped the man as he led the way back to the stairs. “I have the computers we’ll need in the storeroom.”

One of the best things about my writing career is all the wonderful friends I’ve made over the years. Many of my internet pals have become in-person friends. We share adventures in writing, and often we have the opportunity to meet up at conventions like Romantic Times Book Lovers’ convention or GayRomLit.

I always wanted to find a way to just ask a few over for branch, and this became the idea for this blog.

Each Sunday I’ll invite a couple friends over and ask a question. My friends will share their answers with me. You, gentle readers, can give your answer to my question in the comment section below. I’ll choose one random person from the comments and reward them with an ebook surprise, it’s that simple! Comments are moderated, so don’t despair if you’re not posted immediately! Stay tuned, I’ll announce our winner next week!

This week’s question:

You’re going into exile on a deserted alien planet. What three things do you bring?

I’m going to assume that the deserted alien planet is only deserted in terms of other humans. I mean, I don’t do camping so deserted alien planet only works for me if I’m not scrounging for food and water and sleeping in the dirt. That being said, I’d need room service or some other means of eating and drinking besides scrounging in the wild for it. I’m so not the Doomsday Prepper type that hunts for wild boar. I could handle kicking back and letting the aliens bring me food and drink on demand. It would be like a vacation, but on an alien planet devoid of humans…I could go for that! Especially if the aliens were male, hot and naked.

 Now, going along with my first choice, I’d have to say that the second thing I’d bring would be my family. Or rather, Rott and the babies. Nikki wouldn’t want to come. She likes human contact. In Rott’s case, he hates people. He’d be okay on an alien planet without humans as long as the aliens weren’t idiots. He’d probably think of it as a vacation same as me! I couldn’t go anywhere without him. His sense of humor keeps me balanced. He entertains me constantly and keeps me in a good mood so I can write sexy men. And I’d have to take the babies because who would care for them if I left them behind? I’d miss my Louie and his parents and brothers. Louie likes to lay on my feet while I work. I don’t think I could work without him. And it would be awesome if the aliens cleaned up after the babies…yeah, aliens on litter box duty…that’s awesome!

 And lastly, I’d need someplace to work. Would need my computer and the internet, a comfy, roomy desk and a super comfy chair. What’s the point of going anywhere if I couldn’t write about it? And I’d need to keep working on the stories in my head even on vacay…er, exile…on an alien planet. Must. Write. Sexy. Characters. Yeah, no slacking on my part, even surrounded by aliens. – Author Lex Valentine

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-bitterbonds-1219154-147.html

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bitter-bonds-lex-valentine/1115553693?ean=2940016563923

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Bitter-Bonds-Souls-Bondage-ebook/dp/B00DB3ZBQQ

~*~

I’d bring an acoustic guitar and a pitch pipe, plus a ton of guitar strings…

See, I’m hoping the alien planet will be stimulated by my arrival and begin to provide me with some cool aliens to hang out with, so I’ll have company. I like to have company. I’m sure it’ll take us a while to learn to communicate in each other’s languages, so until them we’ll communicate with music!

Or, if the planet really has to be deserted… I know! I’ll bring a sexy

Argeneau vampire, who happens to be my lifemate. Um… what else? geez, Zam, this is a tough one. I’d bring a Christmas tree, because I love them so much mine stays up most of the year (yeah, it’s still up). Oh, and a cat. I’d leave my daughter here, because I don’t want to trap her on a deserted planet. She’s only thirteen, and that would deprive her of a lot of fun growing up stuff. So, yep. Sexy vamp who can make me immortal and adores me, a swanky Christmas tree with self-powered LCD lights, and a pregnant cat… you know, so there will be kittens.  – Author Cherie Noel.

~*~

“This jury finds you guilty of being over fifty, a writer, and a bear. You are sentenced to exile on Planet Maxfield. You are allowed to take three things with you, Bear on Books.” The voice of some little puissant judge kept buzzing around in my head, and all I wanted to do was wake up and go get a green chai latte and maybe a blueberry muffin. Whole grain, of course. Throwing my hand out and hitting the light switch, I slowly opened my eyes and saw it wasn’t a dream after all.

Those bastards really did send me to rim Maxfield…er, Maxfield’s Rim. Thank the gods the view here was stunning—all those shades of red.

First things first, I went and relieved myself, and splashed some cold water on my face. Even in exile, there was no reason to walk around looking like something the bear dragged in. I opened the pet gate and walked into the kitchen and bent down to pet the dogs. That was the first, and most necessary thing on my list of three items I was allowed in exile. Digging through the cabinet, I pulled out a couple of cans of food and fed the beasts before opening the door to let them out.

My Kindle was on the charger. I’d wrangled with them over it being one thing or many, since it was full of books. They might have made the rules, but they never thought around it long or hard enough. My four thousand books didn’t count, just the reader.

Ha, take that Judge Judy.

Two strong arms wrapped around me as I was flipping through my “Gay Romance” collection to find a book to read during breakfast. “Mmm, good morning Sir.”

Yes, my good little slave boy Vin Diesel made the cut at Number Three. What a shame we had to leave all his clothes back on Earth though.

Breakfast was looking better and better… — Author Tom Webb

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Knights-City-Knight-Friction-ebook/dp/B00EK849VE/ref=cm_cr_pr_pb_t

ARE: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-cityknight-1057296-148.html

~*~

Join me every Sunday, as we explore silly things with exciting authors!