Vicktor Alexander's Blog, page 15

-Happy bouncing-
-Happy bouncing-
-Happy bouncing-

Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I'm so excited about today's post! It's my my good friend, the Popess herself, Ms. Ally Blue, who so graciously decided to donate a free short of two of my favorite characters of hers: Grim and Leon, from Untamed Heart (I've bought the book 6 times because I keep forgetting the title, the blurb and keep reading it and going "OOooohhh!!! That sounds interesting!" Then I start reading the book, say to myself "This sounds familiar" and by the time I get to a certain point-always the same point-where I realize that I actually have read said book before, I don't care and keep reading it anyway, thus the six different purchases. LOL) for my birthday exxxtravaganza.


Now, I read it and it was so good that I almost didn't share it with you all.

-shrugs- I know, I know. That would have been selfish of me. But it's my precioussssss.

But I decided to share the wonder of this story with you all anyway (maybe we'll get another book with Leon and Grim, Ally? Yes? -nods-), because it's too good NOT to share! So enjoy!! (And don't forget to comment, you've only got a few days left!)






Grim rolled off of Leon, flopped onto his back and grinned up at the deep blue October. “Have I ever told you how much I like fucking outside?”Leon laughed a soft, sexy, sated laugh. “Only every time we do it.” He folded one hand behind his head and drew a deep breath. “I love how it smells out here. Especially in the fall.”“Mm-hm.” Grim scratched his crotch. They’d camped here in the dense forests of the Pacific Northwest in October before, but it wasn’t usually this warm. He was enjoying the unseasonable balminess. “Are you hungry? I can set up the camp stove and make lunch any time you’re ready.”“Nope.”Surprised, Grim pushed up on his elbows to study Leon. The three hour hike from the parking area to their usual campsite usually made Leon ravenous. “You’re not hungry? Are you feeling okay?”Leon laughed again. This time, Grim caught a note of anticipation he didn’t understand in Leon’s voice. Like he was looking forward to something exciting that Grim didn’t know about.What the hell?“You’re not cooking this time. I am.” Leon sat up, hooked a hand around Grim’s neck and kissed him. “You just lie here and relax while I make lunch. Feel free not to get dressed.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, then pushed to his feet.Grim watched with a smile as Leon crossed from the blanket they’d spread out on the grass to their tent to fetch the cooking supplies. They’d been together for a few years now, but he never got tired of Leon’s naked body. The man was beautiful.When he came out of the tent wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, Grim thought about protesting, then decided he was too relaxed to bother. He lay down again, shut his eyes and let the sunshine, the rustle of the trees and the scent of evergreens lull him to sleep.
He woke suddenly, to the feeling of being watched. Once upon a time, he would’ve lain still with his eyes closed and listened until his brain caught up with reality and he remembered it was Leon, not John, and he was safe. It had taken him a long time and a lot of hard work, but these days, when he woke up and knew someone was staring at him, he knew immediately it was Leon, and that the gaze was a loving one.He opened his eyes and smiled up at Leon. “How long was I asleep?”“Not that long. Half an hour, maybe.” Leon leaned down and kissed him, soft and sweet. “Sit up. I have something for you.”“Huh?” Curious, Grim pushed himself up to a sitting position. Leon handed him the lightweight hoodie he’d brought, and he put it on gratefully. He’d gotten chilly now that he wasn’t exerting himself fucking Leon. “What d’you mean? It’s not Christmas or anything.”“No. It’s something better.”Grim couldn’t imagine anything better than Christmas. The first time he and Leon had celebrated it together—Grim’s first time celebrating Christmas at all—still ranked as the most sheer fun Grim had ever had in his life. But if Leon knew of something better, he was willing to listen.“Okay.” Grim laid a hand on Leon’s knee. “So, what is it? What’s going on?”A wide smile lit up Leon’s face. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He jumped up and jogged to the tent.Okay, now he was just acting strange. Grim waited, wondering. When Leon emerged, he was carrying something. A cake. With a lit candle on top. Grim began to understand. His heart started pounding hard. “Leon…”“Happy birthday to you,” Leon sang in his gruff, tuneless voice as he carried the cake to Grim and set it carefully on the blanket. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Grim. Happy birthday to you.” He knelt beside Grim, beaming.Grim’s eyes stung. “Oh, my God. You remembered.”Leon nodded. “I did.”Of course he’d remembered. Leon remembered everything, even the little things—like this one—that Grim himself tended to forget. It was at Leon’s last birthday. Grim loved to celebrate the occasion with all the bells and whistles, even though Leon got embarrassed about it. This last time, Leon had asked Grim if he could pick a day to celebrate his own birthday, when would it be? And Grim had said, October 7th, because that was the day Leon had rescued him from the hospital in Alaska, so he wouldn’t have to go to prison and they could stay together.He could tell Leon hadn’t completely understood why he’d chosen today. It was hard to explain. But that was the day it had first come home to him that Leon would always be there for him. That Leon would never leave him the way everyone else in his life always had. He’d felt reborn into a new life that day. So when Leon asked him what day he’d pick for the birthday he’d never known, the choice was easy.He had no idea how Leon had managed to carry a birthday cake all the way up here without smushing it, but it didn’t matter. Here it was, and here they were, and Grim had a real birthday for the first time ever, and he was celebrating it with the man he loved, who loved him too. Life couldn’t get any better than this.Smiling, laughing, the burn in his eyes spilling over into happy tears, Grim rose onto his knees and kissed Leon’s lips. “I love you more than anything.”Leon’s eyes shone. “I love you too.” He kissed the tears from Grim’s cheeks. “Make a wish.”
Grim took Leon’s hand. “I got my wish a long time ago.” He leaned over and blew out the candle.

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!
I'M 30 TODAY AND I'M SO UBER EXCITED!!!! 
WOOHOO!!!!
So to help me celebrate the fact that 30 years ago today my bio mom gave birth to a 6lb, 8 oz, bouncing, happy, baby who would grow up to become Vicktor Alexander, gay romance author, businessman, philanthropist, father, friend, future world-changer, and future husband, my friend and fellow author, Pelaam wrote a free short that she's sharing with all of you called, Matteo's birthday.
Don't forget to leave a comment!! 4 Days to Go!



Matteo’s birthday


“Considering we have no rogue demons to deal with, Vilmos, you’re acting as if the very hordes of hell are about to knock at your door.” Priel sat on the edge of the office desk, watching the powerful demon pace back and forth like a caged tiger. He raised an eyebrow as Vilmos stopped to stare at him.“I’d rather face the horde.” Vilmos rubbed his face with his hands. “Priel, Matty’s birthday is coming. I have no idea what to do.”Priel tried not to laugh. But of all the scenarios he’d envisaged, Vilmos so flustered because of an upcoming birthday hadn’t even crossed his mind. Laughter bubbled out, and he received a dark glare from Vilmos who resumed his pacing. Getting his laughter under control, Priel jumped from the desk, and intercepted Vilmos.“I didn’t mean to laugh, Vilmos. I’m not making fun of you. But I was concerned for you, as was Ull, although he will deny it.” Priel laid his hand lightly on Vilmos’ shoulder, and realised just how tense his friend was.“Thanks, Priel. I—I just don’t know what to do. I’ve never celebrated a birthday. But Matty’s so excited. Grandfather’s organised that meal at a restaurant with as many of us that can attend. I keep getting asked what I’m doing or getting for Matty. And I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Vilmos’ shoulders slumped. “And with all the hassle that came with the house we wanted, I haven’t even had time to work out what to do.”Priel gazed affectionately at the demon. There was no doubting how much Vilmos adored Matteo, but as to a gift… Priel pursed his lips. It needed to be something personal between the couple. Not a present a friend would buy. One that clearly showed their relationship.“Let me think awhile. And say nothing to Ull. He’d tease you mercilessly or come up with totally inappropriate suggestions.” Priel smiled as Vilmos looked hopefully at him.“Thank you, Priel. I appreciate it.”As Vilmos left, Priel tapped his chin with his finger. He needed to think.****Vilmos felt much better knowing Priel would help. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Matty. He loved his boy with all his heart. But a present… He’d never bought a present in his life. He was lost. But he owed it to Matty to find the perfect gift. He took a deep breath and let some of the tenseness seep from his frame. He was right to have spoken to Priel. He’d known the angel would take his fear of failure seriously.He just hoped Priel would think of the perfect gift.****Priel smiled as Ull ran towards him, his demonic mate using the walls as much as the floor. He laughed with joy as Ull reached him, enveloped him in a loving embrace, and swung him around. As soon as he was set on his feet, Ull claimed his lips in a kiss.As the kiss ended, Priel sighed his happiness, and leant against Ull. “I missed you.”“I missed you too, gorgeous,” Ull said, and nuzzled Priel’s brow. “You looked deep in thought.”“I was. I have to think of a suitable gift for Matteo from Vilmos, and you are not to mention you know of it.”Ull rolled his eyes. “So that’s what’s been on that great idiot’s mind. He’s been grumpier than a bear with a burr up his ass.”“It’s the first birthday celebration Vilmos has shared with Matteo. He wants it to be perfect.” Priel nuzzled the ruffle of fur around Ull’s throat. “It’s important to him.”“Well that’s easy enough,” Ull said. “A tree.”Priel stared at his mate, aware that his jaw had dropped. “A tree,” he repeated.“Well not just a tree,” Ull said. He grinned at Priel. “You know they’re moving into that house? Well Matty let slip to Grandfather that he wished there were more trees. He wanted a couple for a hammock, and he wanted another that he wanted for shade for a love seat. He also wants a pergola, that he can put a bed in, so he and Vilmos can spend time outside. Guess he hasn’t mentioned any of the romantic stuff to Vilmos since actually buying the house turned into such a nightmare.”Priel thought for a moment. Both Matty and Vilmos had fallen in love with the house, but there had been problem after problem in securing it. Plus an investigation hadn’t helped. He smiled at his lover. “We can supply the trees,” Priel said. “Vilmos can take care of the pergola and its contents. It can be a surprise for after the party. Ull, I love you.”Ull smirked. “Do I get a reward?” He moved closer to Priel, and nuzzled his lover’s throat.“Oh yes.” Priel sighed. Although any reward for his lover, meant that he would be equally rewarded.****As much as Vilmos enjoyed the party, he was anxious and excited to get Matty home. Not the apartment they’d been sharing, but their house. Thanks to Priel and Ull, the pergola Matty had dreamed off was up, and decorated. Vilmos had been shown the angel and demon’s bedroom, with its exotic Arabian look, and known immediately that was what he wanted for the pergola. And they’d done it.The circular pergola was equipped with shutters on the windows, and thick, floor to ceiling curtains, and a heater so it could be used all year round. But given it was summer, and hot, they wouldn’t need to worry. Arousal heated his groin, and Vilmos shifted slightly. He didn’t want his lover to notice they weren’t headed in the direction of the apartment, and he stroked Matty’s cheek to divert his mate’s attention.The house itself was still empty, apart from the kitchen, and the bathroom. Priel had ensured that the kitchen was fully operational, and the fridge, freezer, and pantry fully stocked, and the bathroom had towels and toiletries. If Vilmos got his way, they’d spend the next two days living in the pergola. The time off was sanctioned by Grandfather.“Are you okay?” Matteo asked. Vilmos gazed at his beloved. “I’m fine. I just have a gift for you, and I want everything perfect for when I give it to you.” He grinned as Matty’s face seemed to glow, and his lover’s smile lit up his face.“Another gift?” He touched the necklace he wore. “I thought this was my gift.”Priel had suggested the necklace. It currently held a heart with Vilmos and Matteo’s names inside. Vilmos had received a toe-curling kiss when his lover had opened the box. He couldn’t help but wonder what his reward would be for the pergola. He glanced out of the cab. He’d be finding out any minute now.“Vilmos? This is the house. It’s not ready to move into yet.”Matty looked as confused as he sounded, and Vilmos kissed him gently. “My other gift is here.” Vilmos paid the driver, and walked Matty up to the front door. He opened it, and then swept Matty into his arms. “A tradition I believe,” he said as he carried Matteo over the threshold.Matty slapped playfully at his shoulder. “That’s a groom carrying his bride.” He was laughing so hard, he didn’t notice Vilmos walking through the empty living room, and into the kitchen. It was only when Vilmos opened the back door that Matty thought to question where they were going.“Close your eyes, my love,” Vilmos murmured. “I want this to be a surprise. He carried Matty into the garden, and stopped outside the pergola. “Okay, you can look.”“Vilmos! It’s—it’s perfect. How did you know? It’s just what I wanted.” Matty twisted in Vilmos’ arms and kissed him passionately. Vilmos returned the kiss with equal fervour before taking his lover into the pergola. He relished Matty’s gasps and whispers of appreciation. The bed was circular like the pergola. The covers were a mix of red, orange and gold. Above the bed, silk in a shade of midnight blue, flecked with silver was meant to imitate a night sky. The decoration had been a surprise from Priel and Ull, and Vilmos had loved it. It seemed Matty did too. He’d tell his lover of their friends’ involvement later. Now, all he wanted was to make love to his angel.  He set Matteo on the floor, and ran his hands over his lover’s face, and across his shoulders. Matty trembled, and his breathing quickened.Vilmos leaned forward and kissed Matty, taking possession of his lover’s mouth and pulling Matteo hard against him. Vilmos sucked on Matty tongue, and his lover tightened his arms around Vilmos’ neck, as if holding on for dear life. With a deep, grumbling growl, Vilmos attacked their clothes. Not wanting anything impeding his access to Matty’s body. By the time he’s stripped them both, Matty’s cock was hard, and weeping. He urged Matteo onto the divan, and stretched out over his lover. He kissed Matty again, and rubbed his body over his lover to feel the warmth of Matty’s skin against his own. Matteo groaned, wrapping his arms around Vilmos’ neck and kissed back with equal passion. He moved in counterpoint to Vilmos, spreading his legs wide to allow their cocks to grind together.  It wasn’t enough for Vilmos. He needed more.He kissed his way down Matty’s throat, and across his collarbone, sucked at each peaked, perfect nipple, nibbled his way over Matty’s ribs, licked along the crease of hip and thigh, and inhaled deeply at the nest of fur surrounding the engorged flesh standing proud.Vilmos licked a stripe from root to tip before sucking in earnest, taking Matty’s prick as deep in the back of his throat as possible while teasing Matty’s opening with his fingersl. Matty whined and moaned, writhing in pleasure beneath him, and the sounds spurred Vilmos on, and took his arousal another notch higher.Vilmos sucked harder, caressing Matty’s sac, and felt his lover’s balls draw up, his release imminent. Matty’s fingers dug into his shoulders, and he tried to thrust, but Vilmos held hard to his lover’s hips, keeping control. With a choked cry of Vilmos’ name, Matty came hard, and Vilmos swallowed everything his lover could give.Vilmos eased his mouth from his lover’s spend flesh, and grinned down at Matty. “That was just the appetiser, my love,” he whispered. “Now comes the main course.”He grabbed one of the small bolsters, and flipped Matty over, so his beautiful ass was raised for Vilmos’ attention. He spread his lover’s cheeks wide, and thrust hard and fast against Matty’s opening with his tongue. Matteo was so relaxed from his orgasm that Vilmos’ tongue delved inside easily. He snagged the lube he’d left, and as he pulled his tongue out, his thrust two hastily coated fingers back in.Deep groans and muffled pleas rose into the air as Matty pushed back, wanting more. "You like that, beautiful boy?" Vilmos murmured against Matty’s ear. "Do you like me touching you me beautiful boy?" “You know I do,” Matty whispered. “Please. More, Vilmos.”Vilmos shifted again, and positioned his cock against Matty’s prepared entrance. He pushed inside, sheathing himself in his lover in one slow, smooth thrust. He moved them again, so that he was kneeling, and Matty sat impaled on his solid prick. Vilmos nuzzled against the nape of Matty’s neck, licking at the sweat. Waiting for Matty.“Now, Now, Vilmos.”Vilmos began to thrust upwards. Matty reached back and grasped tightly to Vilmos’ hips. Using one arm to help lift and lower Matty to meet his thrusts, Vilmos stroked his beloved back to full hardness.Matty craned his head, and Vilmos gave him the kiss he craved, their tongue duelling briefly and sloppily. His thrusts steadily increased in speed and Vilmos matched their tempo with the hand that stroked his lover.His name came in breath pants from Matty’s lips, and Vilmos’ cock was squeezed in an increasingly erratic pattern as his lover approached his second climax. This time Vilmos came with Matty. As his lover’s semen flowed over Vilmos’ hand, his own seed filled Matty’s body. For a few moments, Vilmos felt as if they were no longer two separate beings but one, enmeshed in ecstasy.All too soon, the feeling ebbed away, and Vilmos eased Matty back onto the bed, following him closely to ensure he remained buried in his lover’s body for as long as he could. Matty wriggled back as they lay on their sides. “That was wonderful. This place is amazing. I couldn’t have made it better if I’d tried. I love it. And I love you, Vilmos. With all my heart.”“I love you, my beautiful boy,” Vilmos whispered. “Happy birthday.”“It’s been the best ever,” Matty said, and sighed.“It doesn’t end tonight,” Vilmos whispered. “We have two days off, and we’re not leaving here.”Matty twisted enough to be able to see Vilmos, and the love in his mate’s eyes warmed Vilmos to his soul. “I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present.”“Relax, my beautiful boy.” Vilmos breathed the words against Matty’s ear, and earned a shiver of delight from his lover. “When you’ve rested we can bathe, eat and then make love all over again.”“Oh yeah,” Matty murmured. “The best birthday ever.”

My good friend and fellow author, Jaime Samms dropped by and donated a free birthday short called "Birthday Spiders" just for the Exxtravaganza that I KNOW you all will enjoy! So don't forget to leave a comment because there's just a few days left until the winners will be announced!






Dust tickled my nose and I wiggled it, trying to stay focused. I wanted to get this damn critter out of there and get back to work before—“Is there a problem?” Shit!The deep voice behind me made me jump, but I managed not to move my hand as, at last, the creature I was rescuing minced it’s eight-legged way into the cup I held.“No,” I replied, turning from the musty corner as I secured the strawless lid over the clear plastic juice cup.  “Thanks.” I glanced up—and up—from my crouch to peer at the man standing behind me. He was blond, I thought, and thin, but beyond that, too blurry from this distance for details. I slid my glasses back up my nose to see him better. Chiselled features filled my vision. Muscled arms crossed over his chest and the sight made my mouth dry. I wasn’t quite sure if it was in the good way, or the good-God-that’s-scary way.“You the new cleaner?” he asked.“Um.” I rose, awkwardly, because he was closer than necessary, and I didn’t have  a lot of room to maneuver out from under the bars running across the center of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. “Yes.” I held out my free hand, elbow bent awkwardly to keep my hand between us in the tight corner. The man didn’t seem to have a sense of personal space and my dry mouth syndrome was leaning towards the scary end of the spectrum. “Dusty,” I told him, and winced, braced for the inevitable. A cleaner named Dusty. I’d already heard all the variations there could possibly be, even in my three short months in this new job.“Conrad Kosloff.”Great. This was the boss. The guy who owned the ballet studio the company I worked for had been hired to clean. I’d heard he was a true hard ass. He took my hand in his. And good God, he had strong hands. “Dusty?” He asked.“It’s short for Dustin” I told him, pulling my hand back and wrapping it, along with the other, around the cup. It would come in a moment. The comment. Something about a mistake on my birth certificate. My mother being drunk, or a rabid fan of the actor, or some other insulting jibe about my unusual name.“People often call me Connie.” He shook his head. “Or they ask if I’m related to Theodore.” He made a grim face. “Because of course I’m related to a dancer who died in the fifties, because I have the same last name and I dance, too. Makes sense, right?”I nodded, then realized he was being sarcastic, and shook my head so vigorously my glasses nearly flew off. I pushed them up my nose with a finger and blinked up at him. I barely came to his shoulder. Good God. He was tall.“You’re lucky,” he went on as he eyed the cup I was holding. “Dustin is a cool name. Unusual, but I like it. What do you have in here?” He tapped the lid of the cup then lifted my hand with two fingers under my wrist. His eyes narrowed as he squinted past the “Starbucks” logo to see the little critter crawling about inside.“A s-spider.” I pulled the cup against my chest. “She was building a web in the corner. I thought the little girls might be…not like her. So I was just going to put her outside.”He actually smiled. “Sweet. Here.” He gripped the top of the cup. “I’ll take care of her. You get the rest of the floor swept. Class starts in fifteen.” I kept my hold on the cup, but so did he. “I won’t hurt her. I’ll put her out in the garden. I need the floors clean.”“O-of course, sir, Sorry.” Relinquishing my rescuee, snapped up the broom I’d left on the floor. “I’ll get right on it.” “Relax, Dusty.” His firm hand landed on my shoulder and he squeezed. “It’s all good. Just get it done so the girls can come in and warm up.”“Yes, sir.”“You don’t have to call me sir.”“No, sir.” I winced. “Um. Mr…” Shit. I’d forgotten his last name. “Oh God. I’m sorry.” Mortified, I ducked my head and focused on the wide swath of the broom as I pushed it quickly away.Behind me, I heard a soft chuckle, then softer footsteps as Conrad walked out of the studio.Ten minutes later, he was back with my empty cup, which he held out. “Did you need this back? I know some people like to recycle. I can put it in the kitchen to be washed if you like. I was headed that way. Do you drink coffee?” This last he called over his shoulder as he headed for the door again. “I’m making a cup, but I can make a pot, if you want some.” He was still talking as his voice faded behind the wall and closing door.I strained to hear what he was saying, but didn’t dare stop mopping to go find out. I relied on this job and the last thing I needed was a complaint that I hadn’t finished it in a timely manner, or that I’d interfered with the running of his business. My boss was a less than forgiving little Italian man who took his cleaning very seriously.“Sorry, cream and sugar?” he asked, poking his head back into the room.I jumped, glancing up and catching his reflection in the wall of glass. He had, literally, stuck his head back through the door and was watching me in the mirror.“In your coffee,” he clarified. “Because I have milk and cream upstairs. I can go get it, if you want some. And I have sugar or honey. Can you hang around and mop the floor up after class? I’ll pay extra. But if you have another job to go to, you can maybe do it tomorrow. Did you want coffee?”He was extraordinary. I’d been told he was a bit of a grumpy man, and a severe instructor, but as I blinked at him and pushed my glasses into place, I was struck more by his constant babble. He didn’t seem at all unfriendly. “Um,” I said, feeling heat once more creep up my neck. “Coffee. Yes. Please. Black. With sugar is fine. Don’t put yourself out. I can—”“I’ll get cream.” The door swung shut as he withdrew.With a sigh, I resumed the broom pushing. I liked cream in my coffee, sure, but I could do without. It was nice of him to make the effort.I was finished in the studio and had moved on to the kitchen to wash up the pile of drinking glasses left from the last class when he returned with a carton of cream and a ceramic coffee mug.“Not fond of drinking from the paper cups,” he said as he set the mug down beside another next to the pot. “Brought one for you too. So. You new with Marcello’s company? I haven’t seen you before. Usually he sends Tiffany, which is fine, though she doesn’t get into the corners and refuses to wash up after the girls. Not that I blame her. That really isn’t part of the job, you know. Not necessary.”“It’s fine,” I said. “I don’t mind. I like it here, and it’s my last job for the day. I’ll stay and help with the floor after, if you like.”“You sure? Because if you have something to do, I can manage. I usually do it again after Tiffany is done, just to be sure. I don’t want anyone saying I don’t run a clean studio. Besides, she doesn’t use enough soap. I prefer the smell of the floor cleaner to the smell of dancers’ feet.” He grinned and handed over a cup of coffee. “You think hockey gear stinks, you should smell a studio after a dozen ballerinas take off their pointe shoes.” He made a face. “Something else. Sorry. Did you say you were new?” A pleasant pink infused his cheeks. “You didn’t. Because I didn’t shut up long enough for you to even open your mouth.” He put his coffee to his lips and whispered a small “Sorry” into it as he blew.“You are not what I expected,” I confessed.His head tilted and he sipped. “Really? Do tell.”Now it was my turn to blush and hide behind the coffee cup. “Oh.” My voice came faint and I swallowed scalding coffee. “Nothing. I shouldn’t have said—He laughed. “Don’t worry. I know what the girls say. I’m a hard-ass.” He winked. “And I am. They need the discipline. Ballet is a hard life. Tough, nasty business. If I scare them away, they never would have made it anyway. The ones who like me are the ones who might have a chance. If they have the right body and an appetite for self-torture.” He paused for a sip, then sighed. “And want it very, very badly.”“Did you?” I asked, and immediately wished I hadn’t. Good God. How was that any of my business? “I’m sorry.”Instead of being angry, though, he smiled, maybe a little bit sadly. “I did. Very badly. But I don’t have the right turn out, and I hurt myself trying to get it.” He shrugged. “So now I teach. And I’m good at it.”“I’m sorry.”He shrugged. “I was, too. But I’m not now. I’m happy here. Do you need more coffee?” “No. Thank you. I’ll just finish up in here and you can let me know when you’re ready for me to finish the floor.”His smile was brilliant. “Okay. I have to go teach.”“Okay.” I know I sounded soft and bewildered. It didn’t really matter, because he was a bewildering sort of man. All angles and planes and harsh lines of him, filled out by all that talking, were utterly fascinating. His voice, though incessant, was smooth and low, and really, I could listen to it all day.
In reality, I spent most of the hour and a half class in the kitchen where I couldn’t hear what was going on in the studio. There was enough to organize and tidy to keep me occupied. I suppose it said something about me that I was perfectly content—happy, even—to be bringing some semblance of order to the teenage-girl/bachelor-pad chaos of the kitchen counters.Not that anything was actually dirty. Just…haphazard, with things piled so high on the countertop the appliances—toaster, microwave and coffee maker—were next to useless. And the cupboards were practically empty.So I spent the time wiping the cobwebs and dust off the cupboard shelves and arranging the cups and bowls in neat rows, finding the most convenient place for the coffee, filters and sugar, and rearranging the counter space to make the best use of what little of it there was.When I was done, everything would be plugged in and ready for use, and no one would have to shove piles of dishes and napkins and empty towel tubes out of the way to get to them.Besides. It all gave me something to do other than obsess over Conrad’s biceps, spine-tingling height and gorgeously severe features. Sure he looked scary, but it was all backdrop for the exuberant chatter that so didn’t jive with the tales of terror I’d been told about the man.And then one of his dancers scrambled through the studio door and into the kitchen in a frantic shuffle, hyperventilating in that way that only someone trying hard not to cry did.“Are you all right?” I asked. I moved from the sink toward her, then thought better of it when her face crumpled and she lost the battle with her tears. Instead, I filled a cup with water and held it toward her, as though it could shield me from the heart-stopping awkwardness of the moment.She nodded and hiccupped as she took the water, gulped a sip down then let out another soft, crumpled wail.“Oh. Dear.” I bit my lip and searched for a napkin, which I handed to her. She took that too, without looking me in the face.“What happened?”She shook her head and dabbed at her eyes.“Clara?” Another young lady exited the studio and followed her sobs to the kitchen. “Clara, you’d better come back. He’s going to close the door.”Clara hiccupped again, swallowed more of the water and handed the cup and soggy napkin back to me. “Thanks.” She still hadn’t lifted her gaze from the geometric pattern of the floor rug under my feet.“Sure,” I replied, uncertain if there was something else I should be doing.She didn’t stay, but followed her friend back into the studio. I trailed after, going to the wall of windows between studio and office to see what was going on inside.A line of girls, hands laid delicately on the bar, studiously did not watch Clara and her friend retake their places. The music trickled through the studio door and thin walls and Conrad clapped his hands. “Again!” He had a log stick in his hand and he banged it on the floor as he counted to eight. “Pliè, Relevè!” he swooped an arm into the air on the last word. “Clara, Clara! Stop!”The poor girl froze, one arm raised in a graceful arch over her head, her chin lifted, her weight balanced delicately, but firmly on the very tips of her pink shoes. In fact, all the students remained immobile in the exact same pose, some straining not to wobble, others rolling their eyes as the music trickled to a halt and the piano player shook her head.“Turn out Clara, and pull that stomach in!”She shifted her foot the barest hint of a turn and sucked her stomach up under her ribs. It was barely perceptible changed, but it seemed to satisfy Conrad because he nodded. “Continue. And one and...”The music began again and the students resumed their sequence. Clara faced straight ahead, ignoring the fading tracks of the tears on her cheeks and the scrutiny from her teacher. She focused on the movement and maybe didn’t even notice when Conrad examined her final pose and nodded slightly in satisfaction.“Thank you, ladies,” he said after another ten or so minutes of what looked like torture for the girls, and a short but lovely sequence of arm movements that ended in synchronized, elegant bows to where he stood in front before the mirrors.Everyone smiled and clapped, including Clara, and she offered him another, extra curtsy as she minced from the studio.I hurried back to the kitchen before the flood of giggling young women swamped the office.
They all cleared out in a relative hurry after that, and I was left in the suddenly very quiet building with Conrad who was straightening his awkwardly piled CD collection and gathering abandoned drinking cups from the studio floor. He brought them to the kitchen and smiled when he saw me.“You’re still here.”“Well.” I frowned. “Yes. I thought we were going to mop the studio floor. You asked for help.”“Yes. I did. I thought you’d come back after class. I didn’t expect you to hang around…” His gaze travelled over the cleared countertop and the polished appliances. “What on earth? Did you do this? That wasn’t necessary, Dusty. I never expected.” He swallowed and offered me a crooked, but uncertain smile. “Please. Let Marcello know I’ll pay for the extra time. I—”“No!” I held up a hand.  “Please. Don’t say anything to him. Please.” Marcello would not take kindly to the thought I might have tried to pad his bill. He prided himself on his honesty and the integrity of his workers. He would see this as me trying to squeeze more money than he had contracted out of the studio owner, and that would get me fired.“I’m sure he’ll want to know—”“It’s just, I would have had to bicycle home and then back. It wasn’t worth it to go, so I stayed. I didn’t want to sit around and do nothing. I would have been bored. Besides, it looks better. More functional. And I didn’t mind doing it. It was something to do. Really.”Now I was the one rambling, and Conrad was staring at me, eyes wide and mouth open slightly, like he was trying to say something, just waiting for me to give him an opening long enough to interject.I stopped for a breath and it was enough for him, because he jumped in. “Then thank you. I’ve been meaning to get to it, but I’m down here seems like twenty hours a day, and by the time I’m done teaching, I just want to be away from this place for a few hours before I fall into bed, and the clean up always seems to end up at the bottom of the list of things to get done. Hey. I have a toaster? When did I get a toaster? Was this here?”I nodded.He had wandered over and now he depressed the lever on the appliance and chuckled when it flipped back up again. “Well I’ll be. Lindsay will be pleased. She’s always complaining about having to eat her tomato sandwiches on raw bread. And you cleaned the coffee maker, too. You didn’t have to do that. I would have done that after class. It’s the one thing I’m sort of religious about. Clean coffee maker. You want another cup? Where is the coffee, anyway?”I held up a hand and he pulled back a fraction.“Oh. I’m doing it again.”I nodded. “Sorry. How many questions did I not give you a chance to answer this time?”I couldn’t help a smile. “Just a few. Yes, you have a toaster. I don’t know when you got it, but it was here, under a few bags of napkins and paper plates and there was a note to Lindsay on it”—which I handed him—“and I did notice the coffee maker was rather pristine. No, thank you, I don’t need another cup, but I can make you one if you like. The coffee is in the cupboard above the coffee maker.” I reached up and took it down for him, prepared to make another pot, but he took the canister from me.“I’ll do it.”“I don’t mind.”He looked slightly uncomfortable as he shook his head. “I’ve got this. How about you get started in the studio? I didn’t quite get everything off the floor. Once I’ve got this going, I’ll bring the bucket and a couple of mops.”I shrugged. “Okay.”“I’m sorry. It’s a thing with me. I’m sort of anal about my coffee. It isn’t personal.”“It’s fine.” I smiled and pointed to the filters, which he took down.“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and soft. “I appreciate this.”“It’s nothing. I sort of like bringing order to the chaos. Makes me feel”…Needed. Useful. Competent at something… “accomplished.”I beat a hasty retreat before he could say anything to that, because to me, it sounded as pathetic as all the things I hadn’t said.I had cleared everything off the floor when he finally joined me, two cups of coffee in hand. He handed me one with an apologetic shrug. “Just in case.”It was warm and the smell, hazelnut, I thought, was heavenly. I accepted and sipped. “Thanks.”His smile was radiant, and he practically skipped to the stereo. “We need cleaning music,” he announced. “Beethoven? Bach?”“Mozart?”One brow dashed up, but he nodded. “Something light.”“Fantasia!” I said suddenly, remembering the scene with Mickey Mouse and his brooms gone wild.Conrad stopped in the act of opening a CD and stared at me. Good God. I’d done it again. Completely let my idiotic weirdness spill out all over the room. But he grinned wide and clapped. “Perfect!” He put away the CD he’d been opening and rifled through his collection until he’d found the one I’d asked for, which he put on.Music blared through the room and he pirouetted off to fetch the bucket and mops, admonishing me to stay put and finish my coffee while it was still hot. I finished getting everything up off the floor that I could and by the time he was back, I’d managed to ready the room for the chore ahead.
I was used to working in soothing silence. I liked my job well enough, and the quiet of closed office buildings and schools was calming. Tonight, though, there would be no such relaxing calm. Tonight, there was constant chatter under the music, a stream of what I quickly realized were rhetorical questions and incidental comments that didn’t really require more of a response than the simple acknowledgement that I was listening. I got the feeling Conrad prattled like this whether he had an audience or not, and when he occasionally looked up and caught my eye, there was such a look of contentment on his face I thought maybe he wasn’t quite used to having an audience.The mopping up was quick, though, and I was sorry to see the task end.Conrad, however, looked exhausted by the time we were done. “Are you all right?” I asked as he slumped into his office chair.I had squeezed out one mop and was headed back for the other as he opened his laptop.“Long day.” He smiled at me, and the expression was genuine, it seemed. “Most days are. It’s a great job, but demanding. Harder on days like today when I get those glimpses, like with Clara, that they can do something if they just make that extra effort.” He had logged into his computer and glanced at me. “You on Facebook?” For once it wasn’t a rhetorical question, I realized, when he held my gaze, calmly waiting for my reply, and I nodded. “Dustin Jordanson,” I replied automatically. “One of those Disney brooms from Fantasia is my user pic.” A soft heat crept into my face. Conrad grinned wide and turned his attention back to the computer. “It’s frustrating, you know,” he said as he typed and clicked, “seeing how close they are to getting it, and how they just don’t push that extra little bit to get there.” He was talking about the dancers again, I realized, even as he typed and scanned the computer screen. “And then I think, that’s what my teacher did. Pushed and pushed until I hurt myself…” He shook his head. “But I know she can do it if she focuses. It’s tough at that age. Stuck between this huge, impossible dream and school and parents and a cute boy.” He winked at me. “I can sympathize with that last one.”I flushed. The heat didn’t crawl, or seep up my neck, this time. It thundered, right up under my hairline and I grabbed the handle of the bucket, the mop, and scurried for the kitchen sink.I was cleaning up the mess of the water I’d splashed all over the floor in my haste when I felt his presence at my back.“Need help?”“No. It’s fine. I’ll be out of your hair in just another minute, sir.”“I told you not to call me sir. Call me Conrad. Or Connie, if you like.”“No, I—”“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday.”“It isn’t. Wait. What?” I set the rag I’d been using down and turned to face him. He was leaning in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his chest, a lazy smile on his face. Good God, but he was a beautiful man. “It’s the tenth. My birthday is on the tenth. Saturday.”“Today is the tenth.” “No, I…is it?”He nodded.“Oh.”“You forgot your own birthday?” His smile slipped, slumped into a frown. “Didn’t anyone wish you a happy birthday, Dustin?”I shook my head, pushed my glasses up my nose, because they had slipped, making him fuzzy again. His expression was hard to read. “That is unacceptable.”I shrugged. Who would wish me a happy birthday? Sure a few people had probably posted something on my wall on Facebook, but I’d been working all day. I hadn’t really had an opportunity to look. My family had long ago stopped trying to wish me straight, stopped trying to talk me into being one of them, stopped trying, period. My coworkers thought I was a bit odd, and I hadn’t had this job long anyway. I usually took the individual jobs. I liked the peace and quiet. My friends—well. I took a sharp breath, my nostrils flaring at the sudden pain in my chest. “No one called?” He wasn’t leaning in the doorway anymore, but was gliding across the floor, arms still crossed, face stern.I shook my head again.“Why?”“It’s just. Nothing.” I tried to duck past him out of the small room, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm. It was a firm touch, but not a forceful one.“Happy birthday, Dustin.”I nodded and shoved my glasses into place. “Thank you. I should go.”He let me go and I collected my coat and shoes, even though he followed my every move and stood over me as I bent to tie the laces. “Wait,” he said at last just as my fingers came into contact with the door handle.“I really should—”“Do you dance?”“Good God, no.” I flushed again, pushed my glasses into place and looked back at him. “You don’t have to do this. It’s just a birthday. No big deal.”“Come and dance with me.”I shook my head. “I don’t. Can’t.” I backed against the door, against freedom from his smouldering gaze, but for some reason, I didn’t take the escape.“I’ll play Mozart for you, if you like.” He smiled, a soft, happy expression. “Or the bit from Fantasia with the centaurs.”Full on blushing commenced. “You know no one knows anything other than the dancing hippo and the brooms, right?”He smiled wider. “You know.” He winked. “I know.” Turning to the stereo, he zinged through the music and watched the timer until he reached the point he wanted. “Here.” He pressed play and held his hand out to me. “Please. One dance.”Guys like this did not ask me to dance. He was being nice because I clearly had no friends on my birthday. I had organized his cupboards and mopped his floor as social entertainment. On my birthday. How lame was that?“Please, Dustin. I have no one who’s birthday I can celebrate. Let me do this with you?”Well. Didn’t that put things in a different perspective suddenly. I gave him my hand and  kicked off my shoes, stumbling over the one I had already forgotten was laced .He chuckled as he caught me, and soothed the ruffle to my ego with a smooth glide of his hand down my back until it rested on my waist. The music swelled around us and he took a long stride backward. I’m sure I was meant to follow. I stood, rooted to the spot and we both stumbled and crashed, less than gracefully, into one another as we caught our balance.“Are you all right?” he asked as he struggled to contain real laughter.I burned with shame and tried to extricate my hand from his. “Fine. I told you I can’t do this.”“Then I will teach you.” He gripped my fingers harder and planted his hand on me more firmly, sliding it around to cradle the small of my back. “It is what I do, after all.”There was very little space between us, with his hand on my back like that, and I was sure he would feel the sweat trickling down my spine any moment. It would disgust him. I squirmed to get a step away, to get that hand safely back on my hip, but he smiled and moved his head closer to mine.“Relax, Dustin. Dancing is a dirty business.” His breath brushed at the hair over my ear, disturbing it, sending a shiver over my skin. “If you aren’t breaking a sweat, you aren’t doing it right.”“Good God,” I whispered. “Conrad, please…” I had no idea what I was asking for.His lips brushed the upper shell of my ear. “Please what, Dustin?”I closed my eyes and fought the urge to melt into him. “I—”His cheek pressed firmly to my temple. “I don’t know, either, Dustin, I promise you that. Just dance.”I’d get fired. Marcello would have my ass in a sling if he found out about this. I’d lose the last job anyone was likely to hire a guy like me to do. I’d lose my room, my food stamps. I’d have nothing. Panic closed my throat and I whimpered for lack of breath.“Why are you shaking?” He didn’t move away, but his body language changed from swaying sensual sweeps to guarded, more contained.”“Please. I have to go,” I whispered. “I can’t do this.”“You are so afraid.”“I can’t dance. I can’t lose my job.”His hands tightened on me and I felt a smile press to my temple. “You are no longer working. The day is over. Now, this is me, a man, very attracted to you, and the attraction, I think, is mutual?”Good God, yes.  I swallowed hard.He stopped dancing and took one small step back so he could look down on me. My glasses had slipped again so I couldn’t make out the details of his expression, but the smile he wore seemed hazy even without the fog of my poor vision. “What?” I asked him. “What’s wrong?”“Is it mutual?” He asked.“Yes!” I swallowed another shocking retort and softened my voice. “Yes. It’s mutual. But…I can’t take the chance. Marcello is so—”His smile grew, flashed across his face and fell away again. “I know about Marcello. He will have a fit. But he will not fire you. He is not an ogre.”I was skeptical, and he must have read that because he touched the corner of my mouth with the fingers of his hand, still joined to mine.“We understand each other, he and I, Dustin. He called this afternoon and told me he was sending a new cleaner. One I might find more agreeable than Tiffany. One I wouldn’t mind if he didn’t clean the corners.” He snickered softly. “When I asked him what he meant, he said to wait and see when I met you, and I would understand.”“I’m good at my job,” I protested. It didn’t matter that it was a menial one. It gave me pleasure to do it, and to do it right. He’d see that, if he gave me a chance.“I have no doubt you are. Marcello has very good instincts. He was right. If you never cleaned a single cobweb from my studio, I wouldn’t care. He’s a very smart man. I don’t think that’s why he gave you this contract.”“Then why?”But Conrad was smiling slyly and pulling me back close to him again.“You mean he was trying to set us up?”“Perhaps he was acknowledging your birthday in his own belligerent Italian way. And reminding me there is more to life than dancing.”And as he said that, he swung me around that studio floor and for those few, precious moments, it was like my feet didn’t even touch the ground.

O.M.G.!! I am SOOO excited about today's post! It's from my good friend, author Jana Downs. She has written a free short about Tony and Theron from her Ravyn series and she's sharing it for my birthday. So sit back, read and enjoy and don't forget to leave a comment!



Ravyn’s Birthday By Jana Downs


“What do you mean that it’s his birthday?” Theron asked as he stared into the mirrored gateway between worlds. His cousin, the now King of Demontia, sat on his throne in Underhill with his other Ravyns beside him in uniformed lines, including the five new additions from his former harem. Even though Germany and Dageus were still stuck in Demontia and Tony was stuck earth side they looked relatively relaxed. It was the most professional they’d ever looked and the most serious.“How could you not know that?” Salvatore asked, pushing his red hair off his forehead. It was getting long. He really needed to cut it if he was going to keep spiking it up. “You’re married now. Basic questions should have been answered in the weeks you’ve been Earth side.”Theron winced because it was true. It wasn’t like they hadn’t had time to get to all the questions since getting locked into their current universe while they desperately searched for a way to reopen the bolt holes. However, it was really hard to get any kind of intimacy when Tony stayed up late poring over texts and got up early in an effort to run himself into the ground. While Theron appreciated the even harder cut Tony’s abs had taken lately, he missed their lazy mornings of breakfast in bed in the Entertainer house. Otherworld, he’d spent more time with the Doves, their new allies, than with his lover.  “He’s obsessed with getting to you.” The excuse leapt out of his mouth before he thought better of it. A snicker rounded through the assembled Ravyns. They knew their commander better than anyone, Theron included. “Give the kid a break, my prince,” Ally-cat said, grinning like the Cheshire cat he was. “You know how Tony is. It’s killing his control-freak ass not to be here.”      They had been holding court for the first time since the Ravyn War ended with the reclamation of the palace and Desmond’s death. It had killed his husband not to be there so Theron had thought to check up on them in an effort to soothe Tony’s perpetual bad mood. Unfortunately, now he knew that he was missing more than the ability to banish Tony’s rotten attitude.“What do I do?” If Tony hadn’t mentioned it, he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Demon tradition said to throw a big party and invite everyone. “A cake would be a good place to start,” Salvatore said, smiling broadly. “How is he getting along with the Doves?”Theron shrugged. “Getting along kind of indicates that he talks to them upon occasion. Other than running with them he doesn’t acknowledge their existence.” The Ravyns burst out laughing, shouldering one another like they were in on a joke that Theron wasn’t privy to. “What?” he asked, glaring at the men who seemed to be laughing at his expense. “What is so funny?”“We’re not laughing at you,” Druas said, giggling a bit into his hand. “It’s just that with Tony, if he’s running with them he might as well be sending out engraved invitations of friendship. If he starts bossing them, he thinks they’re family.” Theron was never going to understand warriors. He’d lived with thirteen of them for most of his life but their culture was something one needed a three thousand page guide to understand. His heart constricted a bit at the thought. “How are my Cranes?” The three remaining warriors were like brothers and fathers in equal measure to him. “Training hard from the missives I’ve gotten from Demontia,” Salvatore said, sympathy filtering into his gaze. “We’ll get this travelling mess sorted out soon and we’ll all be together again.”Theron nodded but didn’t make further comment. It was pointless to worry about them when they were exactly where they needed to be. It was the rest of them that were not. He sighed at the thought of returning to Demontia without the threat of death hanging over his shoulders. He missed the bustling capital and the quiet beauty of untainted wilderness. It was home. At least he was with his husband. He could have been in Dageus and Germany’s shoes and been separated from his chosen by a dimension. Perish the thought. “So cake. Do you think he’d want a party?”He most definitely would not want a party but that wasn’t the point. He needed to relax and Theron could think of little other ways to get him to do it other than tie Tony to the bed for a change. The idea produced a spark that led him directly to the one being in the universe guaranteed to help him out if the mission was wicked enough. The fertility god, Succellos, was always trying to get Theron to be more adventurous. He could definitely oblige in this instant. “Are you listening to anything that I’m saying?” Salvatore asked, amusement sparking in his blood red eyes.Theron’s cheeks heated. “Uh, sorry, cousin. I didn’t meant to ignore you. My mind wandered.” Salvatore sat back in his throne and ran the pads of his fingers along the arm of the chair. “Clearly.” He waved to the communications doorway. “Court is about to start here, Theron. How about we reconvene on this matter in three hours’ time? Just work on getting the cake and balloons.”Allasandro snickered. “Oh there definitely needs to be balloons.” Why did he always feel like they were making fun of him?
****       Tony growled as he slammed the book he’d been reading shut with a definitive bang. The noise and the rough handling didn’t help matters but it made him feel better so that was a plus. Slaving over books was not his thing. It never had been. Thank gods Germany is in Demontia where all the good texts are. Most of everything he’d bought earth side was useless. This was no way to spend a birthday. He should have been grabbing a beer with his Ravyns and his prince and then falling into bed with his lover that night. Pouring over texts, searching for the answer to a problem that even if he found he wasn’t guaranteed to be able to use anyway, did not a happy birthday make. “Are you training to be a vampire slayer or a time traveller?” Wicked drawled, glancing down at the assorted texts he’d brought in from the Entertainer library. He snorted. “Neither. I’m trying to figure out how to open the damn gates.” Stupid Desmond had cut him off from his prince, his home, and his family. He was so glad the bastard was dead. “And you think you’ll find the answer in…” he read the cover of the book closest to him. “Bobby Singer’s Guide to Hunting? You do know Supernatural is a TV show right?” “I’m getting desperate here,” Tony snapped. In no way was he going to admit he’d actually bought that one because he was a fan of the show. No way in the underworld. “The mythology guide wasn’t too bad.” “Uh huh.” Wicked’s green eyes were filled to the brim with mirth. The bastard. He shut the book. “Why don’t you wander down to your room and see your husband huh? He’s been missing you lately.” Instant dose of possessiveness rose up. Wicked should not be the one to tell him anything about his husband. “I think I can manage to look after my own damn lover. Feel me?” It was a threat and Wicked had to have known it. Still, the stubborn Dove pressed on. “I know getting the doors open is important Tony but don’t neglect what the universe has blessed you with huh?” “Did I give you the mistaken impression that I needed your opinion on how to treat my husband?” Sure, he’d been going out and running drills with the guy and the rest of the Doves but that did not mean they were privy to his private life. Wicked shrugged. “Don’t be an ass. Go. Check. On. Your. Man.” Something about the way Wicked said it made something in Tony’s chest tighten ever so imperceptibly. Was something wrong? “Fine.” He could be stubborn about many things but his lover wasn’t one of them, especially if there was something wrong or he was hurting. That thought threatened to send him into a panic. Relax. There was no reason to dissolve into a panic quite yet. Wicked hadn’t said anything was wrong. He’d just said that Theron missed him. He shoved back from the table and gained his feet. “Why don’t you round up the Doves and get them down here to help me in an hour?” Wicked’s lips twitched. “O…K. I’ll see you then.” Tony shot him a weird look. What did that mean? He shook his head and turned from the table before heading out the room and into the hallway. It took him three minutes to get to their side of the massive house. He supposed he shouldn’t complain. If he recalled correctly the palace in Demontia was approximately five times this size. That was a hell of a morning walk but he looked forward to making it once again. He pulled open the door to his room without preamble and was immediately ensconced by the heavy fog of incense. He inhaled the burning herbs and a comforting blanket of warmth settled over him. The rituals his lover performed as a priest of Succellos always made Tony relaxed. They reminded him of home. “Theron?” he called, closing the door quietly behind him. The flicker of candlelight beyond beckoned him further into the room. “Theron?” “At the altar, Tony,” Theron called back. He should have known. Navigating the sparsely decorated space wasn’t difficult. He beelined to his husband, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Hi,” Tony said, his body tightening in instant attraction. Theron half-turned, his robe slipping off his arm. “Hi yourself.”Tony wanted nothing more than to be one with his work for the day so that he could make those gorgeous red eyes light up with desire. But he had a mission and he couldn’t take time off to indulge his carnal desires, no matter how tempted he was. Birthday or no birthday, he didn’t have time to be tempted. “I haven’t seen you in days,” Theron said, lighting one last candle. “I’m glad Wicked passed on my message.” “Your message?” Ah that made sense now. “We could have talked when I got in tonight.” “Oh?” Theron asked, looking a little annoyed. “You mean after I’ve fallen asleep from pure exhaustion? Or maybe predawn when you slip out of bed without me knowing it?”Yeah. I did that. He winced. “I’m sorry, lover.” “Sorry” always tasted like ash in his mouth but in this instant he actually deserved it. “I’ll try to be better.” “You need a break every once in a while.” Theron reached up and traced his lips. “Especially on a day as special as today is.”Tony raised his eyebrows. “What is special about today?” No one knew about his birthday so what was he talking about? Theron’s lips turned down into a frown. “Seriously?”“Am I missing something?”“Your birthday?” Tony cursed. “Is that what you’re worrying about? Who told you? It’s not important.”“It isimportant,” Theron corrected. “You need to take a little time out for yourself.”“I can’t,” Tony said. He needed to nip this case of misplaced good will right away because there was no way he could take any time off before finding a way to open the gates.“I knew you’d say that.” Theron smiled and it looked downright devious. “Remember that I love you okay?”Tony frowned. “What do you mean—“His vision blurred and the smell of incense became nearly overpowering. His muscles relaxed instantly and he sank to the floor. Unconsciousness rushed up to greet him as blackness cocooned his mind. Oh Theron was going to be in trouble when he woke up. Big. Fucking. Trouble.
****       “Are you sure those will hold?” Theron asked, tugging on something attached to Tony’s wrist. Tony forced his eyes open as his fuzzy mind tried to process what was going on. He was in their bed, that was clear. He saw the ihooks he’d installed in the ceiling, bits of rope still dangling from them. He was also naked. What the underworld had happened? He’d been arguing with his husband and then… “Damn it, Theron!” he growled, jerking upward only to encounter resistance. Understanding dawned. “You tied me to the damn bed? Let me up! NOW!” A low chuckle sounded. “See, little one? It’ll hold perfectly. Enjoy him.” That was Succellos, had to be. No one else would dare truss him up like a turkey and encourage Theron to even contemplate something like this to begin with. “I am beginning to dislike your god. His interfering has finally gone too far.”“I asked him to interfere,” Theron said, slipping the robe he’d been wearing off his shoulders so that it pooled in the floor. Whatever smart retort Tony had been formulating went right out the window as he took in Theron’s very nude body. His idiotic cock stirred in interest. “What do you think you’re doing?”Theron smiled, the innocent look in complete odds with his wicked intent. “Seducing you.” Tony pulled on the ropes. “Did no one ever tell you that tying up your lovers isn’t a seduction technique in polite circles?” “Oh?” Theron asked, batting his eyelashes. “But I learned this particular technique from you, Tony.” He cursed. Okay. That was true. Damn it. “I have work to do, Theron.”“Not today you don’t. It’s your birthday and I am under strict orders from your king and my conscience to make sure you thoroughly enjoy it.” Tony squirmed. He did not like being held down. He especially didn’t like being held down when he was enjoying it so much. “Let me up.” His cock waved at Theron, begging for attention. Why was it always on his husband’s side? It was Tony’s body part.  Theron smiled unapologetically. “Nope. Can’t do it.” The sound of a match striking filled the air. “But I can offer you something sweet.” He craned his neck in an effort to see what Theron was doing on the dresser but couldn’t quite manage it. When his lover turned around he was surprised to see him carrying a huge cupcake with two candles burning on top. His cock was very confused why he was offered food and not sex. “What’s that for?” “My cousin suggested it. Human tradition and all that. I’m supposed to sing too but I don’t know the words.”“But why did you set my cake on fire?”“You’re supposed to make a wish and blow out the candles.” “And if I don’t?”“Then you don’t get to eat cake,” Theron said, grinning. “But I don’t want cake.” Tony wanted to work and if working didn’t work out he wanted to run…or fuck. Fucking was sounding more and more appealing of late. “Oh you’ll want this cake.” Tony was not convinced. Theron took the candle from the cake and tilted it slightly over Tony’s chest. The warm wax spilled over his chest and he hissed at the contact on his bare skin. Theron’s eyes widened before smoothing over to something a bit more mischievous. “Did that hurt?” he asked, far too innocently for Tony’s liking. “Just surprising.” He swallowed as Theron tilted the candle up again and the wax dripped onto his suddenly pebbled nipple. Whatever game Theron was playing made his cock sit up and pay attention in a big way. A low groan worked its way out of his throat.“Otherworld, Theron. What are you doing to me?” “Playing.” He’d turned into a minx sometime between their marriage and today. Either Tony had corrupted him or that damn fertility god Sucellos had. He raised his gaze and watched as a bead of sweat trickle down from his lover’s temple, following its path down his cheek, along his jaw, and then the long line of his throat. He was nervous. Tony could smell it but under those nerves was pure lust. His balls tightened. Theron finally put the cake aside and just picked up the candles, one in each hand. Red and black wax was dripped in heated patterns along his skin, eliciting shivers of response as they overlapped on his abdomen. Tony felt oddly relaxed and stimulated as Theron played with him. Who would’ve thought wax was a tool for sexual pleasure? The black dipped dangerously close to his cock  and his hips swiveled. “Theron,” Tony warned, wanting his lover to do more than heat him up with wax. “You’re so sexy like this,” Theron said, ignoring Tony as per usual. “I can see why you like it.” He bit into his bottom lip, the move sexy as hell. “Tied and dripping with wax. You’re like my own personal canvas.” “Fuck. Theron. Come on. It’s my birthday.” Fuck it. If Theron was going to use the birthday as an excuse, he was going to use it too. Theron grinned. “Good birthday surprise?” “Yes!” Tony snapped. Theron blew out one of his candles and then set it to the side.“Sure?”Tony gritted his teeth, the urge to fuck paramount. “Now, Theron.” Warm and wet, Theron’s mouth wrapped around his burgeoning cock, swallowing him to the root in one quick motion. He groaned, his head falling back to loll against the pillow as unreal pleasure washed over him. More wax dripped down his chest from the other candle and Tony pulled against the rope just to have something to fight against. “Fuck. Yes.” Theron bobbed his head on Tony’s cock, sucking him with all the enthusiasm Tony had come to expect from his husband. Theron’s free hand massaged his sac and he let out another groan. Theron whimpered around his dick, telling him without words how thoroughly he was enjoying this too.  They continued on for endless moments, Tony pulling against his binds and Theron playing him like his own personal instrument of pleasure.“Slick,” Tony demanded when he felt orgasm teasing his spine. “Blow out the candle and ride me, little one.” He wasn’t going to last much longer. He was going to lose his mind in five seconds flat. For once, Theron was in the listening mood. He dove for the lube on the side table before vaulting onto Tony’s prone body. Tony snickered at his lover’s enthusiasm. “Don’t hurt yourself.”   Theron wasted no time slicking his hand and then wrapping it around Tony’s cock. The amusement faded instantly, replaced by lust. He gasped before slamming his mouth shut, gritting his jaw in an effort to stave off the orgasm that was threatening to swamp him. “Fuck,” Tony cursed. “Hurry, love. Can’t hold back much longer.” “I know. Sorry. Damn, love when you get aroused enough to curse.” Theron squeezed slick onto his fingers before pushing them into his hot ass. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, the sight too much for him. Scalding heat engulfed his prick a instant later and Tony couldn’t muffle the groan that was forced out of his throat from sheer pleasure. Theron made a sound of pleasure as he sank lower. “I love you.”“Love you too, little one.” How stupid that he’d forgotten so quickly in the intervening weeks. The most important thing in the universe was here in his arms. He wouldn’t forget it again. “Ride.” He was never more thankful for Theron’s obedience than he was at that moment. Theron rode his cock like a madman, leaving no room for anything but their combined pleasure. Tony moaned. The urge to reach up and grip his lover’s hips to control the rhythm hit him hard but the ropes kept him from it. This was Theron’s surprise and Theron’s game. They would be spent together at Theron’s speed. “Yes!” Theron gasped. “Tony, coming.”“Come for me, love.” Tony followed him over the precipice of release, spilling his essence deep within the confines of his lover’s clenching body. It was long moments before he could move, let alone think. “You’re a naughty minx. You know that?” Tony rumbled, hiding his grin in the top of Theron’s hair. “I try to make you happy,” Theron said, snuggling close. He succeeded admirably.
****         There were balloons, cake, and beer. The last of which didn’t go with the first two in Theron’s opinion but whatever made Tony happy. He’d special requested beer and Theron would move heaven and earth to thrill him on his special day. Tony had promised no more working today and Theron couldn’t have been happier for the mercy. Tony rarely yielded to something that went against his code. It was a win. “I hate balloons,” Tony declared as he plopped down on the loveseat beside him. “Who put you up to buying them?”Theron’s eyes shot wide. “Your Ravyns.” “Let me guess, Allasandro?” He’d wanted everything to be perfect then the first part of the sentence “Why do you hate balloons?” It seemed like a ridiculous thing to hate.  “They’re creepy and rubbery and pop for no reason, leading to heart attacks from yours truly.” Understanding dawned. “So who screwed with you and balloons?”Disgust flickered over Tony’s expression. “My Ravyns thought it would be funny to pop balloons while my prince acted like he had been shot, complete with blood packets.”Theron snickered. “Oh boy.” A giggle burst from him. He would’ve liked to have been a fly on the wall for that particular prank. “It’s not funny.”It was hilarious but it was best not to rile him. “Well, in a minute we can ditch the balloons and you can try the ropes on me this time, all right?”  Theron schooled his expression to a mask of perfect innocence. Tony laughed. “All right. Thank you for forcing me to have fun, little one.”“Any time, Tony. Any time.”They would open the gates soon enough and return to their respective duties but one thing was certain, no matter how hectic their lives were, they would be there to comfort one another. If Theron got a wish on Tony’s special day it would be that they had many more birthdays to celebrate together. Happy Birthday, my Ravyn warrior. 
The End

Today's Birthday Exxxtravaganza post comes from one of my favoritest (yes, it's a word) people. She is also one of my co-hosts on Write On the Edge: Amanda C. Stone.

Amanda is the one who keeps me encouraged to keep writing and well... generally just keeps me encouraged, so I HAD to ask her to get involved! I'm so excited to have her drop by!

Don't forget to leave a comment (especially about her scrumdiliumpcious-yes, that's a word too, I don't care what Blogger says-excerpt from her current WIP)






They say it’s your birthday! We're gonna have a good time. I'm glad it's your birthday. Happy birthday to you!

So in case you missed it, it’s Vicktor Alexander’s birthday. In honor of this wonderful person that I love dearly I am participating in his Birthday Exxxtravaganza! He is turning 30 this year and we all know that you only get one amazing birthday like this. My contribution to the event is two fold. I’m going to tell you about my favorite birthday memory, but I thought I’d also give a little sneak peek at a scene from the story that I’m currently writing.

The best birthday I can remember is when I was really little. Back when things are simpler and your biggest concern was whether or not you got boy/girl cooties on you. My birthday is in May and we lived in upstate New York at the time so the weather was always nice. I turned maybe three or four and was lucky enough to have my birthday party at my house. They were held at my house for the years that we lived in New York but this one party stood out because my dad was a part of making it memorable. My mom was the typical “super mom” when I was little. She always threw these amazing parties for me and worked hard to make the theme I wanted come alive.
But the year my dad participated was the best. What made it even better was that I didn’t realize it was my dad at the time. He dressed up as a clown, face paint and all, and did tricks for all of us kids at my party. Of course being three or four the tricks were pretty basic and he did more jokes than tricks. However everyone loved it and it was extra special for me.
When I found out as I got older that it was my dad, the magic of that birthday got even bigger. I cherish the memories of that day where my dad was a big part of making my birthday special.


Now for the part that you have all been waiting for! A (first draft, unedited) scene from the book I’m currently writing. The working title is “Brian’s Story” but it will change before it comes out. In this scene Brian and Elliott have been together for about a year and it’s the first birthday they are celebrating together.

“Happy Birthday!”
Elliott’s excitement was evident in his boisterous cheer. I was nervous since it was the first time we celebrated my birthday since getting together. I was glad that we were making an effort to spend more time together. But I didn’t want to make a big deal out of my birthday. Plus I had just gotten in from a long flight from my competition in Indonesia.
I was enveloped in a big hug that I eagerly returned. I had missed Elliott while I was away at a competition. I stepped closer to my sexy boyfriend and put my face in the crook of his neck. God how I had missed him.
“Hey, none of that yet,” Elliott gave me a gentle poke in my side. “I want you to eat the dinner I made you and then open my present first.”
I continued to breathe in Elliott’s scent from his neck despite the poking. I didn’t want to move from where I was but I knew that we had to eat at some point. Plus Elliott had to be at work early in the morning so he had to get to bed early too.
With a sigh I separated from him and smiled at him. I appreciated how much he took care of me when I got back from competitions. He was going above and beyond for my birthday.
“As much as I appreciate whatever you got me, you didn’t have to.” I waved away whatever he was going to say. “I know, I know, you wanted to. Which is why I love you so much. Let’s go ahead and eat and open my present so we can cuddle some before I have to leave and let you sleep.”
We headed into the kitchen and I noticed that the table was lit with candles and my favorite meal was on the plates. I must have been more tired than I thought because my eyes misted at the sight.
“Ell. You went all out. This is better than I ever deserved. Thank you.” I turned and gave him a soft kiss then sat down in the chair that I considered “mine” when I was at his house. Once Elliott was sitting we dug into the fabulous meal that he made.
The noises I was making were not fit for the public, but Elliott had outdone himself with dinner. Plus the smirk that he was giving me was totally worth the obscene noises I was making. He knew how to get to me and used his every advantage.
It didn’t take long for me to inhale my dinner. Of course I was starved after the competition and the long flight home. But my man could cook. I was one lucky son of a bitch.
I patted my stomach and pushed my plate away. “Let me help you with the dishes. It’s the least I can do to show my appreciation for that wonderful meal. Plus I know we’re running out of time before I have to leave for the night.”
I saw the sadness that flickered on Elliott’s face. I know he hated that we were separated more than we would like. I planned on asking him to move in with me soon. I just had to find the right time.
I gathered up the plates on the table while Elliott gathered the cooking dishes. Together we were able to load and start the dishwasher quickly, and get the handwashing done efficiently.
“Alright Ell, let me have a kiss and I’ll go so you can get to bed.” I went to take my kiss before he suddenly pushed me away with a shout.
“Wait! Your present! You have to open it before you go.”
If Elliott hadn’t been so excited about my present I would have been upset that he didn’t want to kiss me. He came rushing back with a small box with bright purple wrapping paper. I chuckled at the silly grin on his face.
“Ok, ok, calm down. I’m opening it.” I tore the paper off, not even bothering to be neat about it, and opened the box.
Oh. Oh my God. I had to try so hard not to laugh at what was inside the box.
“What do you think Bry? Do you like it?”
I looked up just to make sure he wasn’t trying to be funny. If this was a joke I wanted to be able to let my laughter out. But no such luck. I could tell by the earnest expression on his face that the gift was very serious in Elliott’s opinion.
Since I hadn’t said anything yet his face showed concern. “The guy at the shop said that it came from the same beach in Hawaii where we met. See, it even says ‘Hawaii’ on it.” He pointed to the bottom of the my gift helpfully.
I looked back down at my gift with new eyes. It may have been a hideous, tacky, hula boy. But it was obvious that it held meaning to Elliott, and by extension, me. Who cares if it was actually from the beach where we crashed into each other. In his mind it was. So that makes it the perfect gift I could have ever gotten.
I set the box aside and wrapped my arms around Elliott. “It’s the best present anyone has ever given me. Thank you. And thank you for taking such good care of me when I got home.”
I squeezed him once and gave him a soft kiss. I wanted to keep the kiss going but he had to get to bed and I was going to crash soon from the long flight. Elliott had other ideas and pulled my head into his chest and held me there for a long moment. I soaked up as much strength as I could from him. I had some busy time ahead of me and it would be a while before I would see him again.
I pulled away with reluctance. I vowed to ask him to move in with me so we would at least be in the same bed every night if nothing else.
“Thank you for tonight. I’m going to crash as soon as I get home. But when I wake up I am going to find a special place to put my hula boy. Probably on the nightstand so I can see it before I go to bed and when I first wake up. Remind me of the best birthday I ever had.”


So there you have it, the first look inside Brian’s Story. For those of you wondering what the hideous gift looks like. This was my inspiration.



Check back at my blog for more information on Brian’s Story and more information on upcoming projects.
http://www.amandastonebooks.com

 OMG!!!!!! Look what released EARLY!!!!!!

Raising Shawna released early! Woohoo!!!! It's available now.

Blurb:

What would you do if the spirit of your dead twin brother came back?
What about if he inhabited the body of your adopted daughter?

Former drug addict, turned state prosecutor, Shane Occena has to deal with this when the little girl he rescues one night, named Shawna, declares that she’s the reincarnation of his brother Shawn, that he’d lost over eight years before. Feeling a connection to Shawna that can’t be talked away, Shane begins the adoption process and gains custody. When Shawna begins acting like Shawn, Shane takes her to see Child Psychologist, Tucker Ames. And that’s when his life really changes.

Dr. Tucker Ames spends his days talking with children helping them heal from their scars and come to grips with their gender issues and sexuality, and his nights alone, hoping for a family of his own. When he meets Shane and Shawna Occena, he finally feels as if he’s met the family that’s destined to be his. But first he has to help Shawna heal from her childhood, Shane heal from his scars, and find a way to help Shawn cross over to the other side.

But when allegations of child abuse are brought against Shane, and Tucker’s family spontaneously descends on this makeshift family in Pensacola to lend their “support”, will Tucker and Shane be able to stay together and be the parents that Shawna so desperately need? And will Shawn ever let go of his hold on Shawna and finally ascend to the afterlife? Tucker and Shane may think that they are Raising Shawna, but in the end, she may be the one to raise them all.

Genre: Supernatural/Paranormal, Interracial, Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary
Word Count: 119,595
Warning: This book deals with a lot of serious issues: drug addiction, loss, transgenderism, racism, homophobia, adoption of minority/biracial children in America, death, abuse, rape, gangs and violence. It may trigger some readers, please read with caution.


Excerpt:

“Hello?” he said into the phone. Silence greeted him and Shane lowered the bottle of orange juice as his brows furrowed. “Hello?”
“Um-yes, hi, Mr. Occena? It’s Dr. Ames. Shawna’s psychologist?” the deeply, husky voice on the other line said.
Shane’s heart sped up and he swallowed thickly. “Yes, hi, Dr. Ames. What can I do for you?” he asked the handsome doctor.
“I-I-um, I was just calling to check up on Shawna. Today’s session was a little difficult for her and I just wanted to make sure that she was okay.”
Shane chuckled even as his groin tightened by the sound of the doctor’s voice in his ear. “She’s fine. As a matter of fact, she’s upstairs getting ready for a bath with her trusty sidekicks at her feet.”
“Her sidekicks?”
Shane was aware of the sound of rustling coming through on the other end. He wondered what the other man was doing. Was the good doctor calling him from home? Perhaps Dr. Ames was undressing for a shower or maybe he was lying naked in bed and the sound of rustling was the sheets shifting around his naked form. Shane groaned silently. That line of thinking was sure to get him into trouble. He pulled his mind back to the conversation.
“Yes, Reba is a cat and Sinatra is a dog. I had them before I adopted Shawna. It was love and friendship at first sight when the three of them met.”
“Well, that is really good. It’s always good for kids who have been adopted and who have endured the trauma that Shawna has to have playmates, even if they are of the feline and canine variety,” Dr. Ames said with a small chuckle and Shane joined in his amusement.
The line grew silent then and Shane held his breath, wanting the doctor to talk to him about something other than Shawna but almost positive that it would be out of line and unethical.
“Sooo—” he hedged.
Dr. Ames sighed. “Mr. Occena, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even called you. I normally don’t. I can’t even lie and say that it’s the uniqueness of the situation that has captured my interest. This is very unethical of me and I know I shouldn’t have called, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind and I just had to call.”
Shane sighed happily before he chuckled. “Well, I’m glad that you called me even if you shouldn’t. I admit that I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”
He heard the sharp intake of breath from the doctor on the other end.
“This conversation could get me into a lot of trouble, Mr. Occena,” Dr. Ames cautioned him.
Shane nodded though he knew the other man couldn’t see him. “I understand. We can stop talking about this right now if you want,” he offered the psychologist a way out of the conversation.
“That’s just it,” Dr. Ames said, and Shane could hear the frustration in the other man’s tone and felt it vibrate within himself. “Even though I know that this conversation is highly inappropriate, I mean, you are the father of one of my patients, I find that I don’t really care. I want to help and treat Shawna through this new development, and at the same time, I find myself wondering what it would be like to take you out on a proper date. Dinner, dancing, and a kiss at your front door.”
Shane’s breath sped up in his chest and he pressed the bottle of orange juice against his heavy erection. “I know what you mean.”
“But this is highly inappropriate and we should probably stop talking about things that cannot be right now,” Dr. Ames said, though it sounded more like a question.
Shane didn’t know how he was supposed to respond in that moment. Was he supposed to tell the doctor that he agreed with his assessment of the situation, or should he try to fight for the obvious connection that he felt with the other man? He was so confused and confusion was definitely not good in this situation. Confusion would have him being selfish and putting his raging libido ahead of his daughter’s welfare. That wasn’t something he wanted to do. He had to think of Shawna. Shawna was the most important thing in his life at the moment, and while the possibility of being with the doctor was a definite temptation, it was one that he was going to have to let slide through his fingers. Though it pained him to do so.
“You’re right, Dr. Ames. This is definitely a conversation that we shouldn’t be having,” Shane said into the phone.
A sigh drifted through the line then, a sigh of disappointment, frustration, and resignation. Shane felt the echo of it in his heart. “Yes, well-I guess I will see you and Shawna next week.”
“Yes, you will,” Shane said.
Neither of them said goodbye nor spoke for a long minute. Shane listened to the doctor’s breathing and found himself matching the man’s breathing with his own. He didn’t know how long they sat on the phone, merely listening to the other breathe, when he heard Shawna’s voice from upstairs.
“Daddy! I’m weady!” she called.
“Coming, baby girl,” Shane called back, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. He sighed again and his eyes slid closed. He had to say goodbye to the doctor, even though it pained him to do so. “I have to go. Shawna’s ready for her bath.”
“I understand,” Dr. Ames told him and Shane could hear the sadness in the other man’s voice. “Well, as I said, I’ll see you both next week.”
“Yes. Next week. Thank you for calling, Dr. Ames,” Shane said. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Occena,” Dr. Ames stated and they both hung up the phone then.
Shane headed upstairs to help Shawna with her bath, his mind divided between his daughter and the gorgeous psychologist whose voice haunted him. And that night when he finally crawled into his own bed to sleep, a full day of work before him, the face of the man he’d been dreaming about for months finally came into focus. It was Dr. Tucker Ames and Shane had never been so disappointed to wake up than he was that next morning. It was a beautiful dream, and, for the foreseeable future, it would have to stay just that… a dream.

http://www.roosterandpigpublishing.co...

It's day eight!!! And one of my newest and swiftly becoming one of my favorite people, J.A. Rock decided to share with us her fondest birthday memory (JA is also on the prize list, yay!). Make sure you leave a comment below. Oh and btw, JA is easily one of the funniest people that I know. we recently did an interview on Write On the Edge together and she had me in stitches the entire time. Girl is HILARIOUS! Which you'll find out when you read this post (oh yeah, and she can probably do with a hug or two as well).




My Fondest Birthday Memory
By J.A. Rock
My fondest birthday memory. God, there are so many. Was it when I turned seven and went to Skate World and got pushed around the rink in the giant skate even though I was terrified of it? Or when I turned twenty-one and missed a flight to South Africa? My twenty-fifth, when I shot wine into my eyes after deciding that if I couldn't get the cork out of the bottle, I'd just push it in—forgetting about physics? My twentieth, when I threw a reverse surprise party, where none of the guests knew I was in on it and thought it was real when they yelled surprise and I started sobbing about how I felt old and regretted all of my life choices? My twenty-seventh, when I actually did start sobbing because I felt old and regretted all of my life choices?
No, I think if I had to pick a favorite, I'd pick my nineteenth. My first year at college. I loved school, but I missed my family and was really looking forward to them driving up for my birthday. The thing is, my family loves football. A lot. And apparently there was a big game on my birthday. So my mom called a couple of days before to say they were gonna stay home and watch the game—but that they'd come up the following weekend to celebrate.
I didn't mind, of course. What child minds being cast aside for an overrated sport that welcomes rapists, dog torturers, child molesters, and murderers into its ranks? It wasn't even like they had tickets to the real thing—they just wanted to watch it on TV. So I, uh, spent my birthday with my roommates, watching the Golden Globes.
And I didn't mind.
At all.
Why don't you ask my therapist if I minded, mom?
Vicktor, I hope you have a great 30th. From what I understand, being 30 immediately turns you into a paradigm of maturity, intellect, and material and spiritual fulfillment. Please confirm this for me at your earliest convenience.

Best,
J.A.
http://www.jarockauthor.com/

One of the things I love most about my birthday is the fact that Veteran's Day and Thanksgiving both fall in the same month. I grew up in a military household and Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday so having my birthday fall in this month just seems kismet don't you think?

So, I did not schedule a post about a birthday or anything related to that because while my birthday is awesome, veterans are, in my opinion, awesomer (yes, for the purpose of this post, awesomer is a word). So I want to take a moment to honor the other veterans out there. Those who selflessly gave their lives or enlisted with the knowledge that they could at any time be called to put their lives on the line, for freedom, human rights, and democracy.



It was one of the reasons I enlisted and it's one of the reasons that I hope that at least one of my children will, at some point, enlist to serve in the military as well.

So today, to my brothers and sisters-in-arms I would like to take this moment to honor you for your service, for your sacrifice, for your unwavering strength, fortitude and your commitment to your country and her people.

Thank you.


Do you know a servicemember who has served, is serving, or who wants to serve? Honor them in the comments below.

Heya All! Hope you all have been enjoying the exxxtravaganza so far! So today's post comes from one of my besties, YA author, Patricia Lynne (author of Being Human) and counts for two points since sundown Friday-sundown Saturday is Shabbat and Sunday is the Sabbath, so you won't get a new post after this one until Monday. Patty and I have a wicked sense of humor and we can often be found texting each other about sweets, writing, and how black spots on your arm means that you're becoming a werewolf. Patty so graciously sent me a post and after a bit of confusion, finally got it right and sent a birthday scene for you all to enjoy with Tommy (no, not my Tommy, her Tommy), the vampire. Don't forget to leave a comment, we're keeping track of points!
Enjoy!!






Admission time. I had a dumb moment when I agreed to write a birthday themed post for Vic. It never occurred to me that I had to email him the post. It only hit me after a couple blog posts. Then I had a moment where I thought, “I should really write the post too.”
I’m just going to blame the day job being crazy.
Anyhow… We are talking birthdays because it’s Vic’s 30th. And we all know it’s going to go downhill from there… I mean HAPPY FREAKING BIRTHDAY! You’re the big 3-0! Hooray!
Yeah, that’s what I meant. Promise. *Avoids eye contact.*
In honor of Vic’s life being over… I mean birthday… I thought I’d share a little birthday scene with my favorite (I may be biased since he’s something I wrote) vampire, Tommy. This is how vampires celebrate. Trust me.
The house was dark and the door unlocked when I arrived. Rhythms beat behind the kitchen door as faint light glowed along the bottom. I had barely set one foot in the room when the lights flared to life, bodies jumped up and voices yelled.“Surprise!”My fangs shot out and I jumped back into the darkness of the living room. I hissed as I searched for the threat, but found only my family and Sunlight.“I told you he wouldn’t like that,” Dan chuckled. He held his hands out and slowly moved towards me. “Easy, lil’ bro. Do you know what day it is? What time?”My eyes darted to the kitchen. A cake sat on the table near Sunlight and my niece. Rissa stood off to the side, camera in hand and trying hard not to smile. A small pile of presents sat on a chair and a banner above read, Happy Birthday.I whirled around at a noise, hissing at the living room shadows. Warmth touched my shoulder. I jerked away and my teeth snapped inches from Dan’s hand.“Easy, Tommy,” he ordered. “It’s almost 12:32.”“It’s my birthday?”Dan nodded. “Yup, come on, the girls spent all day preparing.”I relaxed and climbed to my feet. “I don’t like surprises.”“I know,” Dan replied as he urged me into the kitchen. “And I warned them vampires are easily threatened.”My niece huffed at his words, then bounced to me and threw her arms around my neck. “Happy birthday, Uncle.” She grabbed a present and pressed it into my hand. “This is from me.”I tore the colorful paper off to reveal a plain, black box. “Thanks.”“Open it,” Dan whispered.Finding the seam, I pried the box open and a thin, silver chain snaked onto my hand. Dangling from the chain was a tag with the world Love engraved on it. I looked at my niece. “What do I do with it?”She grabbed the chain and secured it around my neck. “You wear it.”“Why?”“Open Jamie’s next.” Rissa handed me another present before my niece could attempt to explain.Sunlight’s cheeks turned red as I opened her present. The box contained thick, woven threads in red, black, silver and gold. My niece sighed loudly at my confusion and tied the threads around my wrist.“You’re so clueless, Uncle. You wear this too.”Dan laughed as he handed me the largest present. “Here’s one you’ll know what to do with. It’s the usual.”The usual meant clothes. I glanced at my own, hole-covered clothing, then set the present aside without opening it. “Thanks.” I looked at the cake. Why was that here? We celebrated my birthday every year at my niece’s insisting, but usually without a cake. That was done the day before when celebrating Dan’s birthday. I caught his gaze when I looked up.
He grinned at me, a mischievous look in his eyes that reminded me of when we were young and looked identical – except that I looked dead. “You’re not getting out of the birthday song this year.”