Zoe York's Blog, page 2

All three of my Navy SEAL romance series are now available in Kindle Unlimited until June. This is a rare opportunity, I don’t usually have any books in the subscription program! Check out the complete list here: http://www.zoeyork.com/navy-seal-romance/

Like a lot of families around the world, we are at home for the next few weeks. The Viking has been ordered by the military to self-isolate (because the army needs him to be healthy on command), and the kids’ school has been shut down until at least April 5.

We made bread the other day. Today we’re going to try again. We played cards two nights ago, went for a walk up and down our street last night, and tonight we’re going to bust out Ticket to Ride, a board game the 8yo received for Christmas a year ago and we have yet to properly play. And somehow in the next three weeks, I’m also going to finish writing Reckless at Heart.

(Yeah, it’s not done yet. That’s fine. It will be fine. Or it might be postponed, but I’m thinking positively right now.)

If you are a social media person, I’d love to have you join my Facebook reader group, where I’m going to post a daily update on my progress: www.facebook.com/groups/WardhamAmbassadors/

And if you are a writer, or interested in the behind the scenes of writing, or just might like to listen to me talk about books for a bit, I’ve been uploading a daily video to YuTube, here: www.youtube.com/zoeyorkwrites

And finally, I have put Pine Harbour #4 in a FREE anthology, available at Amazon, Apple Books, Kobo, Google Play, and Barnes & Noble. 

The Gift of Love is available now!

GET IT AT:
Apple – https://apple.co/3d6GP2a

Amazon – https://amzn.to/3d1d6YF

Nook – http://bit.ly/3d8ORYo

Kobo – http://bit.ly/2vuh6jt

Google – http://bit.ly/2ISlU59

Like a lot of families around the world, we are at home for the next few weeks. The Viking has been ordered by the military to self-isolate (because the army needs him to be healthy on command), and the kids’ school has been shut down until at least April 5.

We made bread the other day. Today we’re going to try again. We played cards two nights ago, went for a walk up and down our street last night, and tonight we’re going to bust out Ticket to Ride, a board game the 8yo received for Christmas a year ago and we have yet to properly play. And somehow in the next three weeks, I’m also going to finish writing Reckless at Heart.

(Yeah, it’s not done yet. That’s fine. It will be fine. Or it might be postponed, but I’m thinking positively right now.)

If you are a social media person, I’d love to have you join my Facebook reader group, where I’m going to post a daily update on my progress: www.facebook.com/groups/WardhamAmbassadors/

And if you are a writer, or interested in the behind the scenes of writing, or just might like to listen to me talk about books for a bit, I’ve been uploading a daily video to YuTube, here: www.youtube.com/zoeyorkwrites

For three days only, the Forbidden Bodyguards series is on sale! Each book is only 99 cents!

Explore the whole series:

Hate F*@k

Amazon | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play

Booty Call

Amazon | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play

Dirty Love

Amazon | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play

Wicked Sin

iBooks | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play

Filthy Liar, coming May 19, 2020

Pre-order live at Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and Kobo.

On Twitter, there’s a meme that goes, “That’s it, that’s the tweet.” So… that’s it, that’s the blog post. This is the first teaser for Reckless at Heart. I made it to push me through the next two weeks of writing before I send the first draft off to the editor!

Stop laughing. I’m SO GOOD at reliably blogging, aren’t I?

No, no I’m not. But every once in a while, I blog about writing and business craft, and those are a little bit useful to people. Going forward, I’m going to try to do that at RomanceYourBrand.com, the dedicated website for my non-fiction books and writing workshops.

And I have Instagram and Facebook for that stuff, if you prefer social media.

It’s not Monday yet where I am, but it is in Australia*! And I’ve always liked the “Marketing Monday” excuse for a good blog post…

On Saturday, I presented a workshop at the inaugural York Writers Conference in Newmarket, ON, and there were a lot of questions about print distribution for indie authors. I figure, if people were asking these questions in person, I bet some of my writer friends online might be wondering about this as well!

So let’s break it down. As an author who has the rights to distribute your own paperback books, what are your best options? The short list is:

Amazon KDPBarnes & Noble Nook PressIngramSparka local printer

I do not include on this list any vanity presses, including those that insist they Are Not Vanity Presses, but still charge you a few thousand dollars to set up your print book and make you order any minimum copies. That is, frankly, bullshit. But I do know some people who use Lulu for spiral bound books (and I just ordered one of those myself the other day, direct from the Lulu website), and there will probably be someone out there who sings the praises of a full-service option. It won’t be me.

Amazon KDP

If you distribute your ebook through Amazon KDP, it’s pretty easy to add a paperback option after creating the ebook. This is a great option for most countries, but notably and unfortunately excludes Australia. (BookDepository, which is a worldwide online bookstore, does pull from the KDP catalogue, I believe, so that’s a workaround for Aussie readers, but it doesn’t help Aussie authors wanting to order print copies at wholesale prices.)

Barnes & Noble Nook Press

It’s an option. I haven’t used it because I don’t publish directly to Nook Press (they weren’t open to Canadians a bajillion years ago when I started publishing, and now I’m old and tired and not interested in trying new things unless I’m forced to). My understanding is that you can also do hardcovers through Nook Press, and there’s no set up fee.

Ingram Spark

The biggest drawback to distributing to Ingram Spark is that they require a self-registered ISBN, which is optional at KDP, and they ostensibly charge a set-up fee. I say this with a lot of affection for IS distribution, but the set-up fee is bullshit, because there are OFTEN free codes, and they give out secret codes at conferences, so the fee is primarily charged to people who aren’t tapped into author loops–new writers who can afford it the least.

But if you can get your hands on a free code, Ingram Spark gets your books into the widest paperback distribution catalogue. Libraries order from them. Bookstores that refuse to order from the KDP catalogue order from them. Once you start to have readers request your books from libraries and indie bookstores, Ingram Spark becomes a really good idea. It’s a down-the-road really good idea for authors who are actively building a catalogue and readership. And if you are an Australian author, this is the best option for you to get your mitts on your own book!

Another advantage Ingrams offers is that–without an ISBN!–you can print copies of non-distributing books at wholesale cost. This is handy for Advance Review Copies in print, if you’re doing a specific marketing push that might require it, or if you have the rights to print personal anthology copies to sell at signings. (I do the latter with copies of the Love in Transit anthology, which I wrote in as Ainsley Booth. It’s retired, but we still print signing-exclusive copies to hand sell as a fan reward.)

Local printer

This is the option I don’t think I properly addressed at the conference on the weekend, because my default reaction is, “just do KDP and, if you can afford the ISBN block**, Ingram Spark covers the rest of your bases.” But the truth is, sometimes a local printer can get you a better per-book price on a print run, and there might be reasons to do that. But before you commit to that investment, check what it would cost to order the books you want from KDP. And don’t think that a local print run replaces getting your books up on the online retailers and into library catalogues. It can only satisfy hand-selling requirements and that’s a tough author path to trod.

* Australian authors, did you catch the nod to you in the middle of this blog post? Doing a book signing in Melbourne was the kick in my butt that I needed to get my books on Ingram Spark!

** Canadian authors: we are lucky bunnies, and our ISBNs are FREE. Let’s not flaunt that too much for the rest of the world, because they’re rather pricey elsewhere. But anyone with a maple-leaf tattoo can register for an ISBN here.

To celebrate the countdown to the release of Pine Harbour #8, Love on the Edge of Reason, I’ve discounted Love in a Sandstorm (#6!) to 99 cents.

I’ll probably blog about what this book means to me before the sale is over, but for now, I’m going to share the first chapter.

Sale graphic. Text reads: There’s nothing easy about fighting for your life–or your love. Love in a Sandstorm, 99 cents for a limited time!

LOVE IN A SANDSTORM, Chapter One

May
Pine Harbour

The directions from the diner on the edge of Pine Harbour had been clear. Back onto the highway, head just north of town, take the first left.

Such a mundane instruction for a potentially life-altering drive, Jenna Kowalczyk thought.

Five minutes, tops, the waitress had said. Sean would definitely be there. She’d leaned in and with a sympathetic sigh confided that he hadn’t left his older brother’s house since Dean brought him home four weeks earlier.

Of course he was at Dean’s place. Those Foster brothers always had each other’s backs.

Jenna had heard all about Sean’s family in the two weeks they spent together in the south of Spain. When she’d fallen in love with a soldier and let him promise her the moon.

It had only been three and a half months since they’d clung to each other and said goodbye in the Urfa airport. Eight weeks since she’d last heard from him. Six weeks, give or take a few days, since he’d been injured in a mortar attack on a convoy.

An attack she hadn’t known about.

She took the turns mechanically. Instead of the overwhelming emotions she’d expected to feel, there was just a stiff numbness.

The final turn, onto a gravel lane, was marked by a pair of weeping willows. Past those trees she found a sweeping lawn leading to a well-kept sprawling home with a wide porch and a three-car garage to the side, the house Jenna knew Sean’s oldest brother had recently bought and added a recording studio at the back for his fiancée.

She knew all about these people, but she feared they had no clue she existed.

She slowed to a stop in front of the house. Her heart hammered in her chest and she took a full minute to compose herself before she pushed herself out of the car.

The Bruce Peninsula was overcast and rainy, and the unseasonable cool felt even colder given where she’d just come from. She grabbed her jacket.

When she knocked on the door, it wasn’t Sean that answered. She recognized Dean from the photos Sean had shown her. 

He didn’t recognize her in the least, though. He gave her a tight, blank up-and-down glance before speaking. “Can I help you?”

She nodded slowly. “I’m looking for Sean Foster.”

“I’m his brother, Dean.”

She gave him another nod as she tried to make sense of this moment. Her brain was spinning hard, but there was no sense to be made. Only one thing to do—rip off the bandage. “Is he here?”

Dean crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “What do you want with him?”

She swallowed hard. “I asked at Mac’s. The diner?”

“I’m familiar with it.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Of course. They said he was staying here.”

“He’s asleep right now.”

In the middle of the day? She instinctively looked past her husband’s brother’s shoulder, seeking out the man who occupied her heart.

“Maybe it would be best for you to come back another time.”

“Right.” That wasn’t happening, though. She was here now and she needed to see Sean. But first…if Dean didn’t know who she was, there was only one explanation. And that was step number one. “Maybe we should talk, anyway.”

“Us?”

She gestured for him to join her on his own porch.

He glanced behind him before stepping outside and closing the door. “What do we need to talk about? If you’re looking for Sean, you should know he’s not in great shape right now.”

Something in the way he said that turned her stomach. She’d known that was a possibility, maybe even a likelihood, but anger—at being left behind, at being ignored—had fuelled her to this point. She’d needed to think she’d been wronged, somehow, in order to keep her wits about her. To keep working when she wanted to curl up in a ball and let her heart just be broken. Of course when she’d realized he’d been injured, she’d feared the worst—but the media reports had made it sound…

Well, whatever it was, better to deal in facts. She squared her shoulders and tightened her mouth. “Then it’s all the better that I’m here.”

“And why is that?”

She shoved her fingers through her hair, ignoring the way they shook, and glanced to the side. “I guess he didn’t tell you.”

“Tell us what?”

Spit it out. She sighed and held out her hand. “I’m Jenna. Sean’s wife.”

It took agonizing seconds for Dean to glance down at her extended fingers, then back up at her face. Process her words and weigh them. 

He didn’t take her hand, though.

She left it stuck in the space between them. She had nothing to apologize for. She had a ring and two weeks’ worth of stories and photos that proved she wasn’t insane, even though right now, in this moment, she felt totally crazy.

Slowly, he extended his arm and shook her hand. It wasn’t the warmest handshake she’d ever experienced, but it wasn’t booting her off his porch, either. Small miracles. “Say that again?” he said carefully after he released her hand.

“We met in January at a transit camp in Turkey. Just before he went to Spain on his long leave. We traveled together. I was in the room when he called home.” She’d been curled up against his naked chest, but that wasn’t a detail that needed to be shared with his brother. “And then, at the end of our holiday together, we got married.”

She swung her bag off her shoulder and dug into it for her phone. Sean’s brother didn’t say anything as she tapped in her password and clicked into her saved photographs. She didn’t have many since Spain. A couple of selfies she’d sent Sean, nothing indecent, and the group photos she took with her Doctors Without Borders colleagues the night her replacement arrived, and she left the camp.

When she said an abrupt goodbye to her life’s plans and her planned out future.

All to chase the missing pieces of her broken heart.

She found the end of their trip. The twenty-four hours in Gibraltar. Their wedding pictures, as simple and unassuming as they were.

Fingers still shaking, she handed over the phone.

Dean flipped back and forth, then swore under his breath before glancing up at her and swearing again, this time louder. “Well, I’m sorry for being suspicious. You’re right, he didn’t tell us.”

She’d known that from his initial who-the-heck-are-you expression, but the confirmation still hurt. And when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

“He’s not himself.” Dean likely provided this as some sort of justification, and she got it.

She wanted that explanation too. Needed to cling to it because if he were, this would be extra awful. The man who’d seduced her, thrilled her, loved her couldn’t do this. Couldn’t go cold and silent just like that.

“Can you tell me what happened? The news reports were sparse, to say the least.”

He shook his head. “Not my story to tell. But you should come in. We’ll give you some space to speak to him on your own.”

***

Sean heard voices downstairs and hauled another pillow over his head. He could handle the ringing, or the spinning, or the nausea. Any one of those things were manageable. But all three together filled him with the worst kind of impotent rage, because there was nothing to be done. Even the medications he’d been prescribed didn’t work. They didn’t touch the dizziness or the tinnitus. Sure, they helped with nausea, but so did being unconscious.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to fall back into the broken sleep he’d been riding when the noise had started again.

But instead of quiet, he got a knock at the bedroom door.

“Go away,” he growled in the cold, hard voice he still didn’t recognize as his own.

His oldest brother didn’t listen, because that wasn’t his way. Instead he pushed the door open. Creak.

Sean moved the pillow that was in front of his face out of the way and found Dean looming in the doorway. “You’ve got a visitor.”

“Not up for it.”

“Not an option for this visitor.”

“Someone from the unit?” Definitely not up for that, then. He was no fucking hero. He’d been dodging visitors the entire month he’d been home, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. “If it’s the padre, tell him to fuck off.”

“It’s your wife.”

For two weeks in the military hospital in Germany, he’d imagined those words. At first, he’d wanted, needed to hear them. Tried to ask the nurses to get in touch with Jenna, but his words had been all fucked up, and they’d ignored his badly written notes.

He’d dreamed of her. Futile, frustrating dreams, of falling asleep in her arms, only to wake up and she was gone.

He’d dreamed of his late mother, too. Hadn’t done that in years.

Then the doctors started to talk about his rehab and transitioning out of the army. He’d been reminded at every turn about the ever-present threat of another stroke. Of disability and accommodation. Faces grew sympathetic and voices softened.

Did he want to go to a rehab hospital far from home?

No.

Would he have adequate support if he was discharged? It wasn’t a lie to say yes. His brothers would do anything for him. Of course he hadn’t allowed them to. He’d hissed and growled and snarled until they gave him space.

And as he struggled with the transition back in Pine Harbour—as he realized just how well and truly fucked he was, not for a short time, but maybe forever—he couldn’t stomach the thought of having one of them reach out to her. Couldn’t bear the thought of her pitying him, too.

Better for her to be angry and righteous. To move on and leave him behind.

He’d resolved himself to that plan, deciding it would be better for her that he be nothing but a memory.

But she was here.

Now. 

His stomach heaved.

He lurched to his feet, ignoring the way the room twisted obscenely around him, and shoved past Dean. There was no way for him to keep the floor from coming up to meet his face. It was only absurdity that drove some part of him to keep trying, like on the three-hundredth try, mind-over-matter might finally work.

It didn’t.

Dean hauled him up and half-carried him into the bathroom, where he lost his lunch in the toilet.

Silently, his brother handed him a damp towel.

His whole life, Dean had been taking care of him. Ten years older and endlessly wiser, he’d been shoved into a parent role before he was ready, but he’d stepped up anyway.

And now he was doing it again, his new life with Liana on hold because Sean was a mess.

Sean swiped angrily at his face. He didn’t look in the mirror. He hated what he would see if he did. Gaunt cheeks, scruffy beard. Too long hair, sunken eyes. He didn’t need to see himself today to know Jenna couldn’t, ever. “Make her go away.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Then what the fuck good are you?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Dean growled under his breath. “You got married?”

That was before.

It hurt so much, a bright, sharp regret in his chest.

“We had a fling.” The words turned sour in his mouth. A lie. It had been so much more than that. He’d been the luckiest man in the world.

Had been.

Past tense.

Like everything else in his life, the idea of having a wife was now done. Broken. Impossible and shoved deep down lest it destroy him to think about it.

“She’s downstairs.” Dean kept pushing that fact in front of him, like he wasn’t covered in a cold sweat already.

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have a choice.” His brother opened the bathroom door. “Liana and I are going out for an hour to give you some space. I’m telling Jenna you’re up here.”

No. It was a wounded, pathetic cry, and he swallowed hard not to let it out.

He wouldn’t beg.

If he needed to do this, he’d do it. He’d find a way to tell her this was a mistake. Her coming here, them getting married, the whole thing.

He stood there, in front of the sink, and listened to Dean’s heavy steps descend the stairs. Murmurs, then silence, followed by noisier murmurs. Dean had gone to get Liana from her studio—interrupting her work—so they could get out of the way.

His chest tightened. It was too late to move—not that he could on his own. Too late to try and look good for her—not that he deserved to preen. 

As the front door clicked shut, his pulse pounded loud inside his head. It added to the disorienting cacophony of sound in there that made it so hard for him to think.

Fitting.

All of his fucked-up brain stuff should make it hard to hear things, but if anything, it heightened his sense of sound. He heard her downstairs. Shifting on the spot. Restless, worrying.

If she’d stood there any longer, that knowledge would have twisted tight enough inside him that he’d have tried to move. Tried and failed, like all the other times, but he was close to lurching forward when she took her first step up the stairs.

Tentative. 

Creak. Another two steps, and a pause. Then a sigh and a resolute return to climbing, step by dooming step, until she appeared in the doorway, wearing jeans and a jacket, her Chucks still on her feet, like she knew he wouldn’t let her stay very long.

Her eyes widened and her perfect mouth, sweet and soft, pulled into a surprised O. “Sean?” 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice rough. His knuckles hurt from how hard he gripped the sink to keep himself steady, but what was another layer of pain?

Her eyes flicked down, then dragged up his body, her gaze searching. He stood there and let her hunt for any answer that would satisfy her curiosity. Any answer that would reassure her he was nothing like the man she’d married.

Nothing like the man who’d loved her for too brief a time.

She took a shuddering breath as her eyes met his again, and his chest cracked open in a hard, wrenching twist. “And yet I am,” she whispered.

Keep reading. Sean and Jenna’s book is available everywhere ebooks are sold: Apple Books, Kobo, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Google Play.

The other day I shared a This Book by the Numbers post in my Facebook reader group, and then posted that today as well on Twitter. One of the stats I shared was that this book has four complete-ish sex scenes that didn’t make it into the final version of All That They Desire. I’m going to share them here on my blog, over the next four days, but WARNING: THEY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK. So only read them once you finish (or right now, if you are a chaotic bunny who likes spoilers, that’s okay!).

Example #1. This is a scene I wrote a few years ago, because this book existed in parts forever!!!. I tried to massage into the final draft, but the timeline was off for where the seasons ended up landing. My favourite bit about this, the flannel nighty with all the buttons, doesn’t make sense for the height of summer, and by the time winter rolls around in the book, they’re all living together. (I TOLD YOU THERE WERE SPOILERS, TURN BACK NOW) Same with the roaring fire and hot chocolate. But it’s a nice alternate timeline set of events! Enjoy.

If you have read the book, this would take place between ch 26 and 27, except only if those chapters happened in the fall or winter. FLANNEL AND FIRES don’t mix with the start of summer.

THE NAP happened by accident.

It started with a phone call as Evan pulled out of a Starbucks drive through, fuelling up for the four-hour drive home from Toronto. “Hey,” he said, tapping the controls on his steering wheel. “What’s up?”

“Looking at a super quiet last hour on my shift,” Brent said, his voice louder in the car than it probably was on the other end of the call. “I’m getting some fresh air outside and thought I’d give you a call.”

“Nice to hear your voice.” Evan hit the gas, accelerating onto the on-ramp. “I’m on the highway and I’ve got time to chat if you want.”

“Where are you going?”

“Come from the city. Heading home.”

“Nice.” Brent paused. “I can’t talk long, but I wanted to say hi.”

Evan glanced at the clock. “I’m probably two hours from London, do you want to hang out?”

“Uh…” Brent exhaled. “The thing is, my place is a basement apartment with zero privacy from my landlord. It’s not really date-friendly, despite what he says.”

Evan chuckled. “All right. I thought I’d try.”

“I’ll be in Wardham tomorrow. After I catch some rest.”

A reckless, heady thought occurred to Evan. “You want me to pick you up? It doesn’t matter if you’re tired. I’ll drive, you can snooze next to me. Whenever you need to head back, one of us can drive you.”

“I—” Evan heard Brent suck in a breath. Then he exhaled. “Sure. You know what? Yeah. That would be awesome. See you soon.”

Brent texted him the address, and it popped up on the navigation screen. Did Evan want the computer to recalculate directions? He sure as fuck did.

***

The new build neighbourhood where Brent lived wasn’t far from the highway. When Evan pulled up, Brent was in the driveway, sitting on the back of his pick-up truck. He waved, hopped down, then closed the tailgate before sauntering over. He had a duffle bag in one hand. 

Evan rolled down the passenger side window. “Pop that in the back.”

When Brent slid into the front seat, he waited until the car’s interior light dimmed, then leaned over and gave Evan a soft, lingering kiss. “This was great timing.”

“I’m glad to have company for the second half of the drive.”

“You’re away a lot, aren’t you?”

“Constantly. I have a condo in the city I use.”

“Nice.”

Evan shook his head and laughed. “Really, not. It’s a basic bachelor pad.”

Brent notched his thumb at the house beside them. “I promise I have that beat in there.”

Evan dropped his hand to Brent’s thigh and squeezed. “Tell me all about it on the drive.”

It would have been fine if Brent fell asleep. But he didn’t. They talked the whole way, Evan’s passenger yawning more as they got closer to home.

“Do you want me to drop you at Jess’s place?”

Brent worked his jaw back and forth before answering. “You okay with me crashing with you? She’d like that, probably.” 

“Of course.” 

Brent pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text message. Out of the corner of Evan’s eye, he saw the message bubbles fly across the screen. “Yeah, she says she’s going to try to get up early for a Pilates class, and she’s already in bed. Head-to-toe flannel.”

“That sounds really cute,” Evan growled. “Ask if it’s got lots of little buttons to play with.”

“I’m not going to—” Brent shifted in his seat. “Fine.” He cleared his throat, and though it was dark in the car now, dark outside, Evan knew his lover was blushing. “She says buttons up the front, keep your mitts off them.”

Evan shot a quick glance at Brent’s own plaid shirt. Wool, not flannel, but plenty of buttons there. “I’ll slowly undo your buttons instead.”

“Yeah?” Brent grinned at him.”We should film that and show it to her tomorrow.” He always wanted to include Jess in everything they did.

Evan liked that. No, he loved it. He dropped his hand on Brent’s thigh again and rubbed his fingers over the flexing muscles there. “Sounds like a plan.”

His place was cool after a few days of standing empty, the thermostat turned down to conserve energy. They both kept their heavy outer layers once they were inside.

“Straight to bed, or do you want something warm and cuddle in front of the fire?”

“Something warm like…”

Evan grinned. “Whiskey? Decaf coffee?”

“Any chance you’ve got hot chocolate?” Brent’s eyes lit up like a schoolboy.

“As a matter of fact…” Evan went back out to the garage and returned with an overflowing gift basket from the corporate event he’d been at. A major high-end chocolate company had been the sponsor. “I’ve got cocoa packets and just regular chocolate as well.”

“Sweet.”

He put the kettle on, then cranked on the fireplace and dug out some oversized cozy blankets. As he was making the hot chocolate, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen. “My brother,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Go.” Brent picked up the mugs. “I’ll be in front of the fireplace.”

When Evan returned five minutes later, he found the cocoa untouched and Brent fast asleep. He’d stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and snuggled under a blanket, so Evan did the same. Suddenly bone-weary, and not interested in sleeping alone—or trying to move a hundred-and-eighty-pounds of firefighter—he pulled out one of the back cushions, making room for both of them to snooze on the couch.

***

Brent woke with a start. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. One minute he was stripping down, ready for Evan to take complete advantage of him after a wholesome mug of hot chocolate, the next his eyes were heavy, and after that—dunzo.

Crap.

Behind him, Evan snored softly. Two grown men camping out on a couch instead of the king-sized bed in Evan’s room.

It was kind of funny. And sweet, because it meant that after he crashed, Evan snuggled up, which hit Brent right in the soft spot in his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to sink back into much-needed rest, but whatever had woken him up had done too good a job. He was now awake, fully, at least for a little bit.

His nose was cold, which warned him not to throw off the blanket too hastily. Instead, he rolled onto his back and tried to assess where the other blanket was. Evan had grabbed two of them… If he could grab that, and wiggle out from under this one…

But as he rolled, his hip rubbed against Evan’s sleeping-but-very-much-aroused cock.

Oh.

That would be what had woken him up.

Hello.

Evan’s heavy arm slide over Brent’s waist. “Where you going?” he mumbled. “Want you.”

Fuck, yes. Arousal pooled, hot and urgent, in Brent’s balls. Slid through his cock making it stiff. He turned all the way around and slid down Evan’s body, his mouth watering.

If he was going to wake the other man up in the middle of the night, it was going to be with his mouth.

Evan’s hands raked into Brent’s hair, rough and bossy in his half-asleep state. Brent had barely gotten Evan’s cock out of his briefs before the thick, come-slicked head was pushed against his lips. He opened eagerly, swallowing the thick length down. One of his greatest joys about bringing their lover into their marriage was learning all of this with Evan. Figuring out how to relax his throat, breathe in synch with the thrusts. And he got to learn it for Evan, just exactly how he liked it.

Maybe he hadn’t had the lovers that others might have in his younger days, but he was living his best fucking life right now. His wife, his lover, and more intimacy than he ever imagined possible.

The quiet of Evan’s house in the middle of the night made for a wildly sexy setting for a wake-up blow job. The low, shaky moan he let out amplified that a thousand times. Brent rose up on all fours, reaching down to fist his own erection as Evan fucked his face, now wide awake and verbal as hell.

“That’s it, yeah. Swallow me. All of it. Jeez, yes. Fuck. Love your mouth. Love you. So much. So glad you came home with me. Want you so much.” It was an endless, husky babble that charged Brent up, made him work faster, harder. Pre-come spilled against his tongue with each thrust, the scent of Evan working on a primal part of his brain.

More. Mine. More. Now.

He let go of himself so he could use both of his hands to stroke between Evan’s legs. It didn’t take much to send his lover over the edge, his ass cheeks were super sensitive to any touch, and Brent relaxed his throat, swallowing reflexively until Evan’s cock stopped twitching against his tongue.

“Come here,” Ev said thickly.

When Brent didn’t scramble up the couch fast enough, Evan hauled him up so he could straddle Ev’s face.

Being manhandled never got old. Brent shivered as he gazed down as his lover, at his cock sliding over Evan’s lips. He was already close, and the wet, soft heat of Evan’s mouth took him the rest of the way in a few hungry slurps. 

His hips jerked helplessly as Ev milked the climax out of him, then he slumped to the side, spent and so fucking happy. “Can we go to bed now?”

Brent laughed weakly. “Yeah.”

Evan stumbled to his feet first, then held out his hand. He hauled Brent up, then kissed him hard on the mouth. They both tasted like come, like sex and love.

“Love you,” he whispered.

Evan squeezed him tight.

Want more outtakes? I’ve got three other scenes that didn’t make it into the book! Let me know in the comments which you’d like to see next (this one was Wake Up from a Nap):

Some of you may have noticed the banner at the top of my site has changed! Now there’s a link to the series page for The Kincaids of Pine Harbour, the next Pine Harbour series. Book 1 is up for pre-order at Amazon, Apple and Barnes & Noble, and as usual, Kobo and Google Play will come later.

(As a side note, some readers ask why I delay Kobo and Google Play: they require a book file when I set up the pre-order; the other retailers do not. And in the past, we’ve had problems with the earlier file being sent out on release instead of the latest, finished book. So I wait until I have the finished book file for those two sites.)

Also coming next year: more Wardham. But if you’ve read yesterday’s new release to the very end, you’ll know that I’m starting a new series set in the same town, and it’s called… Whisper Beach. No firm release dates for that yet. But there are covers you can look at!

And finally, the last thing I’ll tease for next year is that I’m working on a co-written book with a British friend!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is a standalone, and YES, the heroes are British, and YESSSS I said heroes, plural. MMF, here we go again.

Of course, my alter-ego Ainsley Booth has books coming out next year as well. I’m wrapping up the Forbidden Bodyguards series with Jason’s book in May, and hopefully we’ll be able to finish Bull of the Woods in the spring. After that…I’m not sure. Have you read Ainsley? What would you like to read next?

Book Signings in 2020

I have two book signings planned for next year so far, the North Iowa Book Bash in April and Four Brits Book Fest in July. I keep my Meet Zoe page up to date with signing information, and am always open to invitations if you have a favourite signing you can recommend to me!