Search Results for: "goth"

Merry MM Reading- And No, That Wasn’t A Holiday FU 🎄

Hey, babes

You ever have someone say ‘Merry Christmas’ to you like they’re really saying ‘fuck you for not being Catholic’? Or is it Christian… Protestant? Baptist? …Muslim? (Have I offended everyone yet?) Who are the super angry ones who think Christmas only belongs to them? It’s a vibe I’ve been picking up this festive holiday season. Huzzah, Christmas. XD

The edited version of Apprentice Saga is officially live. Oh, and guess who’s officially on Google Play?! *wink* That was a pretty cool surprise this week.

Exhausted. That is the word. @[email protected] Um… Hellcat didn’t happen this week. Not shocked, unfortunately. Just too much going on. Sorry if I’m super late getting back to comments and emails. I think I need the next few days as a vaca (aka, working my ass off in social and holiday settings instead of writing) and I’ll be bright eyed and bushy tailed after… maybe? Ugh. Oh, and I’m plotting something for after Sorcerer Slayer. Like a choose your own adventure story but it’s like a scavenger hunt to find all the sexy story options and I want to hide sexy drawings in there too. I’m not explaining it well, but I’m super excited about the idea. Seriously, I’m beat today and I just woke up.

Okay, it’s kinda tough figuring out how to be agnostic when raised Catholic. I mean, for one, holding onto all the guilt (ba-dum-bump! XD) The holidays are a special level of wtf. My end of year goals were to spend this week not broke, not exhausted, and not pissed off at everything (usually this feeling has a lot to do with the first two issues.) Then I ended up in a mall I was well aware was moldy, got sick—am still sick and recovering as the fever keeps coming back—and yeah, basically did it to myself.

That feeling of social obligation comes on really strong this time of year and it drove me into a damn mall. Mall—the worst four letter word ever. Buy, or create meaningful things to show you give a fuck about the people you love while having wars over the ‘right’ way to wish someone a nice next couple of days. Ah, Christmas, you do know your roots are pagan, rights? Some people—those really smooth, got it together people—stretch this problem out. They buy over the year so it doesn’t feel like a chore. They manage that social obligation for an entire year because it’s that strong you gotta reach that goal whether it’s now or later… I might be cynical of the people who manage this shit well. I’m a notorious procrastinator who kicks and screams to the bitter end. Don’t get me wrong, I love having fun this time of year and spending it with good people. It just feels like a minefield of avoiding all the other bs that comes along with it.

You know what was awesome about the Grinch? By taking all those presents away, he was able to give the little Whoville critters a gift to see you don’t have to be trapped in materialistic systems to be happy. My fuck, I need a Grinch. Come on, mold, you’re green and grumpy. Save me from myself—this is half a joke. XD Only because I was a fucking beast when sick on mold. Like, I made it an excuse to work 3 times as hard as everyone else because, you know, sick and dying. Logic has no place in my brain. (Umm… but read my books cuz I’m totally coherent. I know, my sales pitch is the best. XD)

 

The Raven Prince

Anywho, how about some fun, LGBT goodies to read? Jean-Paul Whitehall has his first book out of YA short stories where all the proceeds go to an LGBT charity. If you pick this gem up and like what you read, would you mind putting in a review? Jean’s just building his list and he could use all the help he can get—and it’s a damn fine book! I’ve only read the first story so far (Our Lady of The Axe), but I couldn’t put it down while eating breakfast.

You can snag it on Ninestar and on Amazon!

A hoarding holiday of goodies

The Elves of Christmas – $0.99

Two months before Christmas at the North Pole, Santa’s workshop bustles with activity. Santa is coming early with only half a day’s warning to inspect the elves’ progress!

Pepper, who designs and makes special one-of-a-kind dolls, is ordered by his boss Jingle to take time out of toy-making to wash three stories of windows and decorate every room in preparation for Santa. He assigns Ice to assist. But for Pepper, it’s a bit of a problem. Ice is a surly elf, even disrespectful toward Santa, while Pepper reveres Santa to the point of hero-worship.An unlikely pairing, they must work together in order to finish before Santa’s arrival.

But can two elves with conflicting value systems even get along?

Amidst secrets, resentments, toasted cheese sandwiches, snowman building, a blizzard, and Santa’s nerve-wracking visit, Pepper and Ice discover a mutual attraction. If they can overcome wrongful assumptions and failed expectations, love might just take its natural course and lead them to a Merry Christmas.

 

The Raven Prince And Other Stories

Amazon and Ninestar

The Raven Prince

Sixteen-year-old Mike hopes he can blend in at his new school. Except he’s short, slender, goth-looking with the shiny black hair, black eyes and thick lashes, wears an elegant suit and tie, and drives a Mercedes convertible. He’s also gay, a raven shifter in a human school and eventually he has to be the Raven Prince.

Standing up to the bullies who rule the school—Preacher’s Son, Banker’s Son, Sheriff’s Son, Principal’s Daughter—isn’t blending in. When the Four can’t get to Mike, they go after him through his best friend, Johnny, the devoutly straight wrestling star who doesn’t care about the gay thing.

If Johnny is hurt, will it take the Raven Prince to get justice? Raven justice?

 

An Ex, A Dog, and Winter Wonderlands

What could be worse than a breakup right before Christmas? An old flame who broke you barging back into your life…

Vlad has his life together. Great job, great home set in a typical winter wonderland mountain resort, a loving dog, and amazing friends. On top of that, he loves Christmas. All’s jolly until the universe conspires to ruin it for him: breaking up with his flaky boyfriend days before the holidays, his former best friend who broke Vlad’s heart returning home, and enough snow to ruin all of Vlad’s plans.

Vlad knows why Geo came home to Romania: to visit his family for Christmas. He wasn’t supposed to meet Vlad at the airport, or spend a few days at Vlad’s place while his parents are snowed in elsewhere. To protect himself, Vlad does his best to avoid any real connection, but old habits die hard and they find themselves entangled once more.

The last time Geo left him, Vlad almost failed to put the pieces back together. However close they get this time, it won’t change the fact Geo has to return to his life in another country. Is a little holiday romance worth the heartbreak Vlad knows he’ll have to face?

An Ex, a Dog, and Winter Wonderlands is a perfect read for those who love Christmas romances and second chances.

 

A Broken Sword

The last thing Dursus remembered was Brutus’ sword biting into his leg…until he awakened in a strange room and certainly not in Ancient Rome.

Mike Dinsmore, a veterinarian, hears a scream and discovers a strange man bleeding profusely in his study. He binds the wound, applies all of his medical knowledge, and nurses the unconscious man back to life. When the man recognizes the broken gladius in Mike’s possession, he realizes that like his friends, a gladiator has come through time for him.

But Dursus is missing a leg and needs to learn to walk, and to live again. Can he do so with Mike by his side?

 

 

 

In Case of Emergency: Gay Christmas Romance

Former stepbrothers find Christmas romance under the tree.

After years alone, Daniel Diaz is finally ready to shake up his orderly, solitary life. He’s about to leave for a cozy Christmas getaway with his new man when he gets the call from the ER that his former stepbrother has been admitted with a concussion and a broken hand—and Cole put him down as his emergency contact. Why the hell would he do that? Daniel barely knows the guy. After all, their parents’ marriage lasted less than a year and it was a decade ago!

But Cole has no one else to look after him and strict doctor’s orders not to be left alone. So fine, Daniel will bring him along on vacation to make sure he doesn’t starve or fall into a coma. This is supposed to be Daniel’s chance to explore romance again after locking down his feelings for too long—except it turns out his could-be boyfriend is more interested in partying and being an obnoxious jerk. Daniel sends him packing, and now he’s stuck with a virtual stranger in an isolated mountain cabin.

Cole Smith crushed hard on cranky Daniel when they were teenagers. Alone with him in a romantic winter wonderland, those feelings roar back to life. Glimpsing the caring, vulnerable man under Daniel’s frosty shell, he yearns to get closer. Christmas is a time for surprises, and Daniel and Cole discover a scorching connection that just might melt their hearts.

 

Dragon Birth – $0.99

A Night Of Passion Can Change Everything

Jason has been on the run looking for sanctuary with his past breathing down his neck.
One look at Anthony and he begins to think of the possibility for a future. They are remarkably different in so many ways.

They’re going to learn the hard way that there’s a fine line between love and hate. One night is all that it will take with far-reaching complications in the cold light of reality.

Can they make it work when Jason knows the eyes are following him everywhere?

 

 

A Dye Hard Holiday (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #5)

It’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of year for Gabe and Josh Roman-Wyatt as they celebrate their first holidays as fathers, but someone’s war on St. Nick threatens to ruin their holly jolly Christmas.

The Norman Rockwell holiday they had envisioned implodes and shenanigans ensue in true Josh and Gabe style, but that only makes the couple more determined to rejoice in the love and joy they have found in one another. A Black Friday showdown, two foul-mouthed birds, one lumbersexual, ugly Christmas sweaters aplenty, four invading grandparents, and a sexy twist on an advent calendar lead up to oh, holy nights. Catch up with your favorite characters and meet some new faces in a tale that is sure to make you feel as warm as Josh’s creamy, hot-buttered rum concoction.

A Dye Hard Holiday is a funny story about two fathers trying to hold it all together as they juggle busy careers and family life while planning the perfect holiday season. Will they be rocking around the Christmas tree or will it be a blue Christmas? The book is approximately 50,000 words long and is not intended as a standalone book. This supplements the Curl Up and Dye Mysteries series, which should be read in order. This book contains sexually explicit material and is intended for adults 18 and over.

 

Apprentice Saga: Demon Bonded Collection #2

Insanity comes in all forms…

Ky’s recovery from the overseer Demencious is short lived. His parents have lost all trust in him, and Ky again has to wonder if he’s losing his mind. That is until he starts his first art class at his new college and meets an actual sorcerer apprentice.

Liem Kane could have been a typical teenager, but there is something terribly wrong beneath his well-groomed exterior. His demon, Fido, is twisted and abused, the wolf Relic tormented daily by his young master.

In his quest to save Fido from certain death, Ky must face Liem’s master. A demon trainer of cruelty that far surpasses his young pupil, Tobias has no qualms in murdering those who disobey. Ky faces off against this monster among men. It’s kill or be killed, and Ky isn’t sure he can live with either option.

 

Demon Arms Poll Results and Goodies To Read 👻

Hey, babes! <3

Hellcat’s first draft is done. I’m in the process of prettying it up and getting a cover ready. Also working on a cover for the fabulous Wendy (who I need to email back ^^;) Also starting a fun little smut fic of the exclusive kind on the website where Raider is passed around for a while. First scene is already up. Good times.

Poll results

You know how sometimes you feel like you’re stuck with two choices, and then someone comes along in an angelic voice and goes ‘Why not both?’ Yup, that’s where I am right now.

Why not both? The Paranormal Academy for Troubled Boys is one of those series that has a message for everyone, just some people can’t hear it because of the sex or the swears. I think of it like some people are inflicted with this terribly painful illness where every time they hear a profanity or come across graphic sex scenes, they cringe. Writing clean is like writing for the human-impaired. They can’t be comfortable with themselves enough to realize words don’t hurt them; their perception of words hurt them. And that’s okay cuz they still want to read a story too, one which doesn’t make them cringe. Lol, or not to offend the fuck out of everyone reading this, let’s just say they don’t like explicit books and they have a right not to. XD

So, this has now led to the idea of creating a ‘clean’ Demon Arms book under a new pen name. And when I set up Patreon, I would set up 2. One under the Sadie Sins pen name where the story received for a $1 a month would be the explicit Dorian Black story, and the story under the ‘clean’ pen name would be the censored Dorian Black. Why do both? I still want to reach as wide and audience as possible with Patreon which means nothing adult, but also because the responses from my readers (especially the emails) revealed a story the poll didn’t.

Sadie, don’t stop writing smut!

Don’t worry, babes, I will not. I think writing smut is actually saving the world—I know, so lofty for a fuck fic. Let me explain.

When I walk into a bookstore, I see the culture wars on the shelves. How to step on backs to win in business arose a new market of how to win at business without being a shark. Books claiming health comes from eating vegetarian brought books that said to only eat vegan, which brought books of Paleo (to the cries of I need some fucking meat) to books to eat air—this is a real thing. It’s like watching a conversation or argument right in front of you on those shelves. You know the conversation that has to happen in the dark because society makes people so ashamed? Erotica. Sex. Romance has some leeway, cuz hey, sex is alright if it’s ‘love.’ Like saying having fingers are okay if you only use them for typing, otherwise cover them up and hide them away. What’s wrong with your fingers? Nothing, and there is nothing wrong with sex.

Marketing is extra dangerous about this kind of thing because it has the power to create cultural and societal movements through perception. Marketing creates an illusion that all your friends and neighbors and anyone in the know is following a trend. Peer pressure—they warn you about it with bullies but not with marketing. The Internet exaggerates it–you’re familiar computer screen telling you that the huge world of the Internet believes this. Sometimes marketing goes the opposite; only the elite few know about this secret. Be one of us and be special.

It doesn’t take much for an idea to sink in that it’s a norm. When you hear a million people are into a new exercise fad, you don’t think wow, out of the billions of people on the planet, only 1 million means it’s less than 0.01% of the population. Our brains don’t jump that way. A million is everyone and you’re weird for not doing it too.

Censorship is one of those things where they want you to think everyone feels this way which is why all the big platforms have to follow suit. They don’t have conversations about it, they just erase what they don’t like. They have to or their readers will revolt—it’s not for religious reasons to satisfy a small percent of the population who morally judges the rest of us. No, it’s totally a business move. (this is sarcasm, just in case it’s not clear. XD) Censorship is for the uncomfortable—the percent of people insecure about their bodies to the point they need explicit sex to disappear from the market for them to feel safe. The same way bigots need gay people or poc to disappear so they can feel safe about the world they live in.

Why do I compare these? Because it’s the same to me. Something natural in the human form is singled out and labeled ‘unnatural’ and then ethics and morals and gods and even science (there were movements to try and prove through science different races weren’t really human so not worthy of equal rights) are all created to justify those beliefs. Ethnic cleansing and genocide still happen to this day among so many people who are okay with themselves and others. When Trump was elected, it made it feel like every neighbor you had might be a white supremacist if you lived in America because millions voted for him. It’s not the case but it’s how the human mind is limited in its perception. A million = everyone. One bad thing on the news is happening everywhere. One rational reason to hurt many is accepted because it’s seen to be accepted already.

So in censorship I see consequence of normalizing self shame and self hate. Sex is normal and healthy, and sex fantasies are just as much so, no matter the form they come in. It’s why I focus on taboo subjects because someone has to show that it’s okay. It’s normal—and it’s fucking sexy to write! Not being allowed to have those fantasies is far more detrimental than whatever ‘eroding of civilization’ the fear mongers trot out when they cry for censorship. Repression leads to shame, self hate, suicide and disconnect from the body. There are still cultures where they think being gay or gender fluid is a crime punishable by death. It can make it scary to notice gay books being censored more than straight ones because those censoring are deciding some ideas are okay only if they’re between a man and a woman.

Censorship feeds those dangerous ideas that being normal isn’t normal and deserves to be destroyed. It can compel someone with absolutely normal sexual urges to go into a gay club in Florida and start shooting. Censorship creates the next generation of broken people who don’t even understand the message is a lie, because the push back against that message isn’t on the shelves. It’s hidden away in the gutter and dark ‘protecting’ people from their natural thoughts.

Censorship asks normal people to not be themselves so others can be comfortable. Ridiculous. We shouldn’t be cutting off our limbs to make those uncomfortable with their bodies feel okay about the world. You just bleed out because you’re not allowed to be whole, and the broken still hate themselves because they can’t accept their sexuality, or they can’t stop feeling their self identity is infringed upon when other people exist naturally with a different sexuality, or skin color, or language (insert irrational reason here) than their conceived norm.

Censorship and self hate aren’t norms, they just appear to be because millions are still quick to hate themselves and fit themselves into little ugly boxes to make those around them happy–or more, to have the angry people leave them the fuck alone. Censorship takes money from those who write things being censored–it’s an attack on livelihoods. Those okay with the world don’t ask for censorship or the erasing of ideas. Only those not okay, only those angry, full of judgement, self hate directed outward demand others be different.

And if all those demands were gone? If we were allowed to be how we are in a natural state not ashamed of self, our bodies, our skin, our urges, would we hurt others so much? I don’t think so. You already stop hurting yourself when you accept who you are. That’s one person every day who is hurt less. I bet the number is exponential when it’s everyone.

So, in this clean project, I just want to offer a little grain of hope that if you learn to love yourself as you are, and allow others to be as they are, you won’t suffer so much. The same message you find in Demon Arms, just translated for those who cringe.

Lol, that was a wall of text. This was supposed to be a short newsletter since I woke up late. Huh, that’s what I get for tripping over the soapbox again. XD

Goodies down below. <3 Hope you enjoy.

The Detective’s Pleasure – $0.99

“You’ll kneel for me without me having to tell you to. And when you do, you’ll feel so much better. Trust me.”
– Detective Sam Roberts

Officer Ryan Bennett: An ambitious and smart young officer on Houston’s police force. He’s pursuing a promotion to the city’s elite SWAT team with a single mindedness that won’t accept any outcome but success. But Ryan wants more than a coveted position on SWAT. He wants to give himself up to a strong Dominant who will make him shudder with pleasure beneath a firm yet loving hand. Unfortunately, Ryan has had nothing but failure in that part of his life. Now, he’s hidden that dream away, and refuses to let anyone close enough to see what he truly desires.

Detective Sam Roberts: Cool and calm, Detective Sam Roberts is good at reading people, during the day as a detective and at night as a Dom. He sees past the hard layer of arrogance surrounding Officer Ryan Bennett to the hurt submissive hiding beneath. He wants to help Ryan, even though the stubborn young man resists him. He’s determined to help Ryan embrace the soft, giving nature of his submissive side. If Sam is successful, will he give the young officer the very thing he’s wanted for so long?

GAY: 20 Stories Man on Man First Time – $0.99

20 of the filthiest m/m stories with the biggest men all in one box set!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Deep Magic: A Mythological Romance – Free

Where does magic end and love begin?

Oliver Evans spent his youth spinning one tall tale after another until it got him over his head in trouble. Returning as an adult to his grandmother’s cottage in Aberdaron, Olly is determined to put his past behind him and settle down. But the misty Llŷn Peninsula hides dangerous secrets. Olly is torn between the Longing, a powerful force driving him away from the only home he has ever known, and the growing conviction that the merman prince of his childhood make-believe is real–and in desperate need of Olly’s help.

There is more truth in Olly’s stories than he realises. If he is to have any chance of righting past wrongs and rescuing his prince, Olly must navigate the truth in his old stories and discover the magic right in front of him. But Olly has a powerful enemy on the ​Llŷn, an ancient king who would like to end Olly’s story-telling permanently.

Written for the M/M Romance Groups 2015 Don’t Read in the Closet event, Deep Magic is a free gay romance novel produced with the support and effort of members of the M/M Romance Group. A fantasy romance with a gothic bent, Deep Magic will take you deep into Welsh mythology and folklore, featuring the morgen, Welsh mermen, and the notorious water-horse, the Ceffyl Dwr. Deep Magic contains adult situations and should be read with discretion. The story began in Deep Magic continues in Morgen Curse and Morgen Song.

hc 20

DRAFT SCENE TWENTY

Was he growing horns? Motherfuck, he might be growing horns.

Sean gingerly touched the throbbing flesh of his forehead while trying to keep from swaying. The fever of yesterday had returned in full force. Wandering through the freezing cold city lost in Noct District wasn’t helping anything. He finally found Mystic Highrise but couldn’t bring himself to actually approach the building yet.

Sean groaned as his forehead pulsed painfully. It was either the world’s worst headache or he was growing horns. Fuck, he didn’t want to be here.

He was at what he hoped was a safe distance, ducked behind the fountain in the courtyard. Sean stared up at the dark, towering building, and if ever a building could stare back, Mystic Highrise did. The skyscraper was huge, taller than any other building in the area with Gothic flourishes hidden among the gargoyles that perched on its ledges. The numerous windows were tinted black and reflected the red and purple sky growing darker as each second ticked by.

It was sunset and a quiet, rather brilliant voice inside Sean whispered he should wait a little longer. If Magnolia was dead, she wouldn’t need rescuing. If she died he wouldn’t need to go running into a building full of terrible witches and their pet dragons to save her.

Unfortunately, Sean made a habit of ignoring the brilliant, if not selfish voice inside him. He leaned down and dipped his hands into the fountain and took another pass at his face with the chilling water. Eddy, the guy from the alley, had been kind enough to lend him his shirt for as long as he might be alive to need it. It was so generous during a time he expected the worst of people, Sean was still reeling from it. It almost relieved the awkwardness of being caught painfully hard in an alley while streaked in blood. Almost.

Eddy might have thought he had a shot at him. Fuck, if his tentacles were really tentacles, he just might. Even with Eddy’s weird hair, intimidating height and double-pupil eyes, Sean couldn’t help but check the guy out. His hair was too short, but if those tentacles could do even half the things Soot’s tails did…

It had to be the demon blood. Sean hadn’t felt right since Soot fed him his blood. He was so horny, and the world kept slipping by like maybe he was kinda drugged out his mind.

The shirt was nice, at least. It was a stylish gray button down with a few burgundy diagonal stripes that cut across his chest and shoulder. It readily came off of Eddy after Sean explained how his demon of a boyfriend ditched him in an alley over some stupid argument. For some reason that had been interesting. Apparently paranormals like Eddy thought the humans who dated demons was a thing. Like the wildest kink of the underworld.

Sean made sure his skin was clean of blood before combing fingers through his hair to pull the messy locks from his face. The shirt wasn’t exactly warm, but his fever seemed to be helping him not care. What really mattered was he looked presentable enough to get into that building. He needed to look normal, like a professional, not a desperate slob off the street looking to save a witch so he could get his life back.

He didn’t feel normal. His heart was pounding in his ears like a drum. He wanted to blame it on fear, on the very obvious likelihood this was going to get him killed—fuck, it was. He was totally going to die trying to get into that building. Still, it wasn’t enough to send him running in the opposite direction. It wasn’t enough to stop him from feeling like he was a one more chilling breeze away from running into the wilderness and never coming back.

Soot. He needed to find Soot. The fucker did something to him and it was only getting worse.

Sean slumped forward, his hand braced on the fountain’s edge as another wave of heat him. His gums pulsed around his new fangs, throat unbearably dry, muscles tight and straining in a way that made him feel puffy and feverish. Crazy. He felt crazy, and pissed off, and so freaking horny. The bastard left him hard and aching in an alley and didn’t come back. No, he just up and vanished.

And over what, exactly? He just said TJ’s name, the fucking emo dumbass. It wasn’t like Sean even had a chance with TJ. It wasn’t like it was ever going to be anything more but his pathetic crush. Not a reason to run off. Not a reason to—fuck, what did that damn demon do to him? He was aching all over.

The fountain danced before him, water flitting human shapes that twirled and spun in a cascade of magic fueled movement. Sean’s stomach churned warningly and he hunched and closed his eyes until the world stopped rocking.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to find Soot, but when he did, he was going to beat the fuck out of him. Soot didn’t just ruin his stuff, no, he destroyed his body. He changed his DNA. He stripped his humanity away like it wasn’t his to begin with. Not okay. Seriously, not okay. Yes, Sean might have some issues with relationships but he could honestly say he’d never stolen someone’s humanity away before.

The sun was a mere glow on the horizon behind the wall of skyscrapers. It would be nothing to just wait it out a little longer. Sean glared at his glossy reflection in the water, unable to ignore the strange sharpness to his pupils he could see far too clearly while during twilight and without his glasses. If he let Magnolia die—pain in the ass that she was—he’d never get back to normal. Either she had a spell to reverse what happened or she’d help him track Soot down. There was no way Sean would be able to find the demon if he left the planet and returned to whatever pit in hell he crawled out of. No, he had to do this.

Damn it, he never should have left his apartment. It was like his subconscious fucking knew the moment he went outside his life would turn to hell. Damn that cat.

Sean walked stiff-legged from the shelter of the fountain and across the concrete courtyard. The wide stairs led up to a disconcertingly symmetrical front entrance where flowering bushes, statues, and even the grass all seemed to mirror itself too perfectly. Sean’s eyes darted as he furtively watched the gargoyles who were hanging on the side of the towering building. They twisted and breathed, clearly spelled to ensure no one was confused the stone guardians were indeed alive and dangerous. Most of them were shaped like exotic serpentine dragons with tongues and tails that constantly undulated but never tangled. A few hulked, brutish gargoyles lurked at the top of the building, their shapes just barely made out in the fading light. Their dark presence was a weight waiting to fall, crush and maim whoever dared to come too close.

Dead birds littered the pavement at the base of the building, proof of the gargoyles indiscriminate protection. It was hard to stare at the lifeless bodies and not imagine being among the dead. Even wings didn’t allow those broken bird the power to escape the magic of this cruel, oppressive place. What little hope did he have?

Sean stopped his cautious steps before the four sets of gold-trimmed glass doors. A gargoyle crouched above the entrance and gravel sprinkled down as it slashed razor sharp claws into the stone for purchase. Eddy promised that just having held a witch’s wand that day would be enough to get past the magical guardians. It sounded possible at the time; Sean’s back pocket still vibrated like he might be slightly radioactive from holding Magnolia’s wand for so long. Now, staring at a creature with fangs longer than his fingers and far sharper, Sean wasn’t so sure. For all he knew, Eddy thought a nerd being eaten alive by a swarm of gargoyles was the funniest joke ever.

This was such a bad idea. He had no plan, no clue Sean fidgeted nervously and looked back the way he came. Well, fuck, what was he really going to do? Go back to his trashed apartment, grab what scraps were left of his life, and move in with TJ? Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

He was so screwed. Fucking cats. Fucking men. The combination of both in one beautiful, chaotic demon was the epitome of monstrous. Damn, he hated all these feelings. Once again his heart fucked him.

Sean squared his shoulders and turned to meet the gargoyle’s suspicious empty eyes. “Hey, I gotta get into that building. I have an appointment with a witch.” Or whatever. It was the damn help, after all, if even that. An over-sized guard dog, really. He wasn’t even sure gargoyles had the brains to understand language.

No response came from the stone dragon, and Sean shrugged and reached for the nearest door handle. A mistake. A hiss cut through the air and Sean gasped as something cold coiled around his shoulders. He froze, all the air rushing out of him at once as he felt the deadly power contained in the tail. His mind raced valiantly as he tried to think of a proper lie to keep him from being pulled up and into those deadly jaws and crushed.

Wrong door.

Sean yelped as he was propelled sideways without further explanation. He caught himself on the tinted glass and blinked up. The gargoyle had already turned away dismissively, its tail flicking back and forth in sweeping arcs. Coming back to himself, Sean snatched the door handle, pulled, and scurried inside the building. He exhaled heavily when the door shut behind him and he remained alive and not remotely maimed.

Crazy. This was utterly crazy. Just what the fuck was he planning on doing?

Sean pushed off the door and looked around as he tried to get his bearings. Mystic Highrise was like the majority of office buildings he’d been in, except this felt more like the lobby of an expensive hotel than a place of business. The floor was made of black, glossy tile with glittery gold grout. There was a bank of golden elevators to the left behind a reception desk surrounded by elegant black and purple roses. Sean bit his lip and stilled when he noticed the three receptionists across the room standing at the desk.

It would be impossible to slip past them without being seen. Not that he knew wherever the fuck he needed to go. Without Jamie to call, he was absolutely out of his depths.

No point turning back now, right? Not unless he wanted to jump back outside with those giant stone monsters and see if they thought he still smelled like magic.

Sean’s footsteps echoed uncomfortably loud in the large entry hall as he slowly crossed to the desk. He needed a plan, some sort of brilliant lie, but his mind kept drawing a blank. If he could find a way to get to Magnolia and… and what? He had no wand or way to contact Jamie. He wasn’t even sure what was going to happen to the witch. Did draining magic actually kill a person? Was it like stealing blood?

Sean would readily admit he was terrible under stress. This always happened to him. He didn’t test well, and all his arguments turned into huge freakouts because he could never keep his shit together. And really, why should he expect this to go any better? He was dressed like a vagabond while in the middle of professional luxury, covered in wounds, dirt and blood, and he was totally going to be thrown out by security. That, or shot… spelled? Witch security probably spelled. Bet it hurt even more. So he was going to be spelled and kicked out on his ass, and while he was eaten alive by gargoyles, Magnolia would be drained. Game over, no respawn, no do over.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh, what?” Sean started and blinked rapidly. At some point he must have made it to the receptionist desk. The scent of roses was a noxious perfume as his eyes fixed on a young, impeccably groomed man behind the desk. Fuck, he was so under-dressed. Jeans were not the right choice to saving a witch from this place. The receptionist’s young age might have set Sean at ease except he was standing stiff as a board while wearing a suit. There was a headset attached to his ear and Sean had a moment to wonder if security would be called as the guy’s expression soured to impatience the longer he floundered for words. His critical stare of Sean’s state of being wasn’t helping.

“State your business,” the receptionist snapped impatiently. “Hurry up, now.”

“Uh, I’m Sean Slater,” he finally managed to blurt out. Sean’s eyes widened immediately after and he clicked his mouth shut. He hadn’t wanted to tell anyone that. He was there to rescue Magnolia, and giving his name was totally going to put him in danger if the police became involved.

Would the police be involved? There was a dragon. The police should be involved, but then, hadn’t Jamie said something about a body needing to be found first?

Oh, hell, would it be his body?

“And what do you do, Sean Slater?” The receptionist sighed when Sean stared back blankly, panic clear in his green eyes. “State your business. Are you looking for a mage, a sage, a necromancer? What do you want?” he practically growled. “You do have an appointment, correct?”

Death. This was totally going to lead to death. “IT.” Sean coughed awkwardly, his voice a rasp of nerves. “I’m with IT.”

“Oh.” The receptionist blinked pale eyes and raised his hand to touch a finger to the headset hooked to his ear. He fixed his sharp gaze on Sean as he listened to whoever was talking on the other end.

Sean’s mind raced as he tried to think of something to follow up with. I’m here to save Magnolia seemed a little too on the nose. I need to speak to Divia? He wasn’t sure who was the enemy just yet. If he gave away…

“Mr. Slater, we’ve been expecting you.”

“What?” Sean took an involuntary step back. He looked to the other two employees, a woman and an even younger boy who was glowing with magic, to see if they were already calling for backup to capture him. Sean’s pulse calmed a little when he saw they weren’t paying him any attention but instead staring at screens as they typed away.

“We’ve been waiting on IT for over two hours now. Becky, ring her up.” The receptionist’s voice turned clipped as he addressed his colleague and moved out from behind the desk. “With me, Mr. Slater. Hurry up. Time is of the essence. It does not do to keep her waiting.”

“Her?” Sean parroted as he got his wobbly knees to work enough to follow after. He wasn’t fully sure his brain was working as it should. Everything was too hot, and his headache was much worse when he moved.

The receptionist stepped briskly to the set of elevators, stopped, and pulled a key from his pocket, which he inserted it a slot above the elevator buttons. “She’s in a foul mood, so don’t get too chatty. The tech has been iffy all day and no one can get a signal in the building. It’s thrown off schedule of everything.” Pale eyes pierced accusingly, as if Sean first destroyed all their tech just to come in and fix it. Sean would have taken it personally, but it was not the first time he’d gotten such looks. People got really pissed when they couldn’t get Internet.

The elevator chimed open and Sean stared into the small, golden room. “Uh.”

“She’s expecting you.” The receptionist glared when Sean refused to move. “It took you two hours to get here. The least you can do is actually get the job done,” he muttered under his breath as he shoved Sean by the shoulder.

Sean grabbed the elevator wall before he could slam his nose into it and whirled, his eyes wide. The condescending look on the receptionist face didn’t alleviate his fears of having just entered the gaudiest coffin ever. Sean watched as the young man reached in and pushed a button and withdrew his hand. The doors began to close and Sean fought a whimper.

“Wait. Where am I going?” he asked desperately before the doors could close.

The hand returned as did the scathing glare of the receptionist as he held the elevator open. “Are you insane or just stupid?”

“Uh…” Sean wasn’t sure how he wanted to answer such a question. He was feeling pretty damn crazy at the moment. “I’m new?”

“Of course you are. Fucking cowards.” The receptionist moved on before Sean could ask what he meant. “Mr. Slater, the union will protect you from being killed by someone like me. It doesn’t mean Divia will put up with any nonsense. Do your job and get out.”

“Divia?” Oh, fuck. Sean bit his lip. “Do you mean…?”

“There is only one Divia and I have no interest in being at the wand end of her bitch rant because you want to blather. Go. Now.” He released the elevator door. Sean lunged to stop it from closing but was too slow. The elevator lurched and he grabbed the wall as it began to ascend.

Crap. Crap, he was so screwed.

Demon Bonded Is PermaFree! 🍧

Hey babes,

My first Perma-Free book is up!

I am officially ‘wide.’ Huzzah! I actually have the first four Demon Bonded episodes up in their new covers, actually. Five more to go, and then I’ll be publishing the brand new episode, #10. I have a favor to ask of you all. This is my first time going wide and I’m hoping to instill some confidence and familiarity to new readers. Would you mind downloading and reviewing Something Waiting In The Dark from any retailer who isn’t just Amazon? I’m basically going to have to learn the ins and outs of every new platform, but reviews are universally a customer’s goto to figure out if a new book is worth their time. I would greatly appreciate it (and hey, free book.) <3

Oh, two new freebies on the website and Intangible is up to #20

I’m reconsidering the KU thing, at least for serials. If I went with KU, I would be locking that new serial episode in for 3 months on Amazon while saying a big fuck you to any reader on any other platform. Of course, I don’t have any readers on any other platform just yet (except Smashwords; I will be uploading Demon Bonded there once I download the new template.) It does seem to defeat the purpose of going wide if I’m pandering to only one platform. I seriously need to start thinking differently about a lot of things now. Why punish every other potential reader out there just because Amazon is again unflexable? I might end up using KU for short story stand-alones and novels and keep the serial episodes wide to have a better pacing with releases. Or going wide might mark the death of KU for me. I don’t know yet. I know why I got the fuck out of KU and why I need to make any other situation work and I’m not about to forget that bullshit anytime soon. But at the end of the day, it’s still about the readers and making sure they’re happy.

So, I’m hesitant to tell you all about my week, mostly because it’s been a really difficult one and I don’t want to dwell too much. Hit with the allergies 3 times and each time resulted in the inability to move my arms, walk straight, or think properly for 8-12 hours on end. The first time was 2 hours after my allergy shot on Tuesday; fucking broke my heart and shattered my reality all in one go. I guess I should focus on the fact I still get to come back to me after it passes, even if I seem to have little control over when I lose myself. I don’t break (outside of my emotional freak outs of turning into a zombie XD,) I just lose my life for hours on end.

I’ve basically locked myself in my room today in the hopes of avoiding another attack. I have a feeling this is a seasonal thing now the leaves are piling up on the ground again and mold is my most severe trigger. I want to get the rest of Demon Bonded out and I want to get back to Sorcerer Slayer—I feel like I hit a lull in the conflict and I need to get the tension back. Oh, and I want to finish Shifter Safe Haven #4. I was poking at that yesterday when I collapsed. Seriously, fuck allergies. It doesn’t seem to matter how many allergy shots I get or how clean I eat or how fucking perfect I strive to be, control and safety is an illusion, one I’m never going to be able to embrace. So I say fuck it and write.

Found a quote from my old apartment I stuck back up on my wall; ‘Where you dwell in consciousness is where you truly dwell.’ At the end of the day, our reality is what we perceive it to be. In that perception can be an eternity of joy and happiness, or struggle and misery. I’m striving for joy.

Hope you all had a wonderful week, and if you didn’t, you can find a stunning silver lining to keep you smiling. <3

Something Waiting In the Dark – Free

Something hunts in the dark…

After his father is laid off, Ky Scion is forced to reside in his ancient family manor in the small town of Blackstone Falls. He’s an outcast to the local farmers, too Goth and too gay. Ky turns to repairing the huge house while pursuing an art degree. His parents are blind to the terrible secret he discovers among the bloodstained walls. Something lives in the dark, in the nooks and hideaways of the old house. Someone with hot breath and strong hands who wakes Ky up in the middle of the night.

In the dark hides the powerful Relics. Unique and beautiful, they’re exploited for their magic and fought after viciously. Relics aren’t items, they’re sentient beings, demonic men stolen from their world to be bonded into servitude to callous sorcerers.

Ky’s grandfather disappeared years ago, leaving his Relics to be killed off one by one. The monster who feeds on the Relics smells of rot and blood, and is soon to attack. Ky’s not a sorcerer, and has no way to defend himself from the murderous beast set on revenge.

Each episode in this sexy, suspenseful gay monster harem serial is over 10,000 words, and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

Scoundrel by Wendy Rathbone – $0.99

Antares is a willing sex slave, trained in the harems of Anada since the age of 18, and owned by a wealthy master who spoils his slaves. But all that changes when Empire soldiers invade Antares’ world and he is taken away from the only life he’s ever known.

In a colonized galaxy where starships are as common as houseflies, and a dark Empire seeks to control thousands of civilized worlds, there are those who fall through the cracks and refuse to be conquered, including the pirate, Slate, and his crew.

Out in the darkness of the unknown, among Empire soldiers and scoundrels, will bad fates befall Antares and his fellow captive companions?

Will Slate finally find the love he’s been looking for his whole life?

Can Slate and Antares ever see eye to eye?

A male/male romance to end all male/male romances!

Faunication: Kali’s Story – Free in KU

The gorgeous faun Kali became a famous actor with a traveling troupe in the human world and has written a memoir that holds nothing back, despite knowing it will offend the sensibilities of the chaste and literate nobility.

Kali has sex with men and women without preference. When he falls in love with the carnival master Richard he accepts it with his entire heart, but he soon finds out that humans aren’t as versatile as his kind. Richard denies feeling the erotic energy between them. Can Kali teach him the faun way of love?

The first half of this book is pure faunication and the second half is the love story between Kali and Richard. This is a complete ebook, not a series, with a guaranteed HEA. Written by the author of UnPrison.

Devil’s Kiss – Free in KU

He picked me up on a lonely road and made me his lover…

Adam is fresh out of high school and on the road trying to find himself and some independence. His mom might not ever forgive him for hitchhiking across the US alone, but at least his dad promised to keep the money flowing.

Things were fine until a crazy old lady left him stranded in the middle of the Arizona desert. No one will stop for him, and the unbearably hot day is quickly turning into a frigid night.

Out of the darkness, an unlikely savior arrives. Chuck’s not exactly the kind of person you expect to be riding a motorcycle through the desert, but he’s handsome and he’s kind enough to offer Adam a ride into Phoenix. He happily takes him up on the offer.

When a rival gang blows up Chuck’s bike while Adam and Chuck are both sleeping, though, a once innocent young man finds himself thrust into the dangerous world of motorcycle gangs, guns, and drugs. Will he survive long enough for his one night stand with Chuck to turn into something more?

Sleeping Dogs II 7

CHAPTER SEVEN: A Coyote Obssessed

Harry met Hermione’s gaze warily, not really liking her haughty expression. It had been a huge decision to come to the girl for help, and he was certain he was going to regret it. Hermione just couldn’t ever shut her mouth about things, and he didn’t mean secrets. No, it was more the thing Harry was certain was about to pop out of her mouth right now as she sniffed disapprovingly at his appearance.

“You do realize you’re wearing makeup, right? Like a girl.”

Harry had realized, Hermione not being the first one to point it out that week. “Actually, more like a rockstar, or punk, or goth, or just a guy wearing makeup. I’m not a girl. I don’t look like a girl, and really don’t care what you have to say about it. Now, about that spell?”

Huffing, Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Why should I help you? All Ron has done is complain about how mean you’ve been.”

“I haven’t been anything to him,” Harry snapped. “I haven’t said two words to him for damn ages. That’s not being mean.”

“Sounds mean to me. You’ve been a jerk, Harry, and I don’t know why I should want to reward that. If you did your own schoolwork, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“It’s not—” Harry stopped himself, biting his tongue. He couldn’t ask Draco for help, because the boy would want to know why Harry needed help. Hermione was his only fucking hope, and she was being hurt and pissy. He forced himself to smile, knowing by her expression that he was failing. “I would really appreciate it. You have a lot of experience in finding information in the library that I just can’t. I just need to stop a smell. Charm it away—It can’t be covered up. It needs to be stopped. Or, I need to find a way for a person to not smell this smell. Anything you can find would be really helpful.”

Hermione sighed, pushing her bushy hair back over her shoulder. She had stayed up late studying in the empty common room, having caught Harry by accident coming in. The boy was always running around in the middle of the night, and Ron had said that Harry was hanging out with Malfoy of all people. Harry was just going to hell in front of her eyes, dressing like some hooligan and barely passing his classes. They had been friends once, but it was difficult to remember that when the boy was always brooding, playing mean pranks, and had started getting really rough and fighting whenever someone crossed him. Maybe that would have been okay, but Harry had also said some unkind things to her, things that had hurt extra because they had grains of truth to them.

“I’ll think about it,” she finally said, collecting her book and parchment. “I have my own schoolwork to do, and can’t just be distracted by everyone else’s problems.”

“That’s fair,” Harry said, hands in his pockets. Hermione stood, lips pursed as she looked him over. He was wearing a thin, nearly transparent long sleeved shirt, long shorts with flared legs and straps crisscrossing behind him, and calve-high, heavy boots only tied halfway up so the leather gaped open. He had a row of varied black bracelets nearly covering his left arm, his right only in one thick leather cuff. Harry’s hair, usually a mess, seemed almost intentionally so tonight, pulled in a way that looked attractive. Maybe he was trying to look a bit like some rockstar wannabe. Hermione had never been one for bad boys, but she could see the appeal, her former friend looking very handsome, his bright eyes almost memorizing with the eyeliner.

“What did you do to your glasses?” She asked, noticing for the first time that he wasn’t wearing them anymore. Harry reached up, fingers brushing his face and coming away with his suddenly visible frames. Hermione was impressed, looking at them carefully. “That’s pretty advanced magic. I didn’t know you—”

“I didn’t,” Harry said, slipping them back on, the glasses disappearing as they touched his skin. “Malfoy did it. He’s really good with complicated spells.”

Hermione blinked at that, eyebrows raised. “Did he… did he help with all your new changes?” She asked, wondering just what the hell Harry was doing with Malfoy, where the boy was giving him a makeover. Harry had been dressing like this for a good week now, although his school robes obscured a lot of it from sight during class.

Shrugging, Harry shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, looking for all the world like he just wanted to leave already.

It wasn’t like it was a normal makeover, either, Hermione mussed, her mind whirling. Harry had never liked to be looked at, didn’t even like it now when Hermione was blatantly staring. He hated being made a fuss of, and now the boy was dressing outrageously. “Did you… did you lose a bet, or something?” She asked, not sure she would believe that as being the answer. The clothes were expensive, and Harry looked attractive, not shamed and embarrased

Glancing up at her from his study of his boots, Harry smiled thinly. “Won, if anything.”

Hermione bit her lip, suddenly feeling worried for her old friend. Harry was so different lately, and now Malfoy had been allowed to just change him again. “Don’t forget what his father did to us, Harry. With Riddle’s journal. He could have gotten us all killed with that snake, and…”

Harry rolled his eyes, huffing as he took a step back. “Draco’s not his father. He doesn’t even like his father.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione pressed, reaching her hand out to him, only to immediately drop it. “He’s good at lying, remember? He could be using you. Trying to gain your trust. You’ve been really off lately. It wouldn’t take much to trick you.”

Scowling, Harry stopped his retreat. “Believe me, you have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Hermione didn’t back down. “How can you be sure he’s not using you? Trying to—What? Bribe you with new clothes? Show off how rich he is? Is he going to get you a new broom, too? His father is a Death Eater. You’re friends with the son of a Death Eater.”

“Boyfriend,” Harry said tightly, gritting his teeth. “Draco is my boyfriend.”

Gaping at him, Hermione placed her hand to her forehead. “Damn it… Harry, I didn’t…”

“No, just stop talking,” Harry growled warningly. “Because in about two seconds you’re going to start on about how fucking worse that is, because my head is up my fucking arse in love and can’t see clearly. You don’t know shit about him. You really don’t know shit about me, and I’m sorry I even tried to talk to you again.”

“But…” Hermione watched helplessly as Harry stormed up to his dorm. He was gay? She shook her head, sinking back into her seat. How the hell had she missed the fact that her friend of two years liked boys? Was this why Harry had been avoiding her? Had she been so insensitive that he just couldn’t even bare to be around her? Hermione didn’t know, but she felt like she needed to fix it somehow. For starters, by finding that spell he wanted.

Harry was so upset, he stomped into the bedroom he shared with the rest of the Gryffindor third years, not caring if he woke anyone up. They all had their bed curtains drawn with privacy charms up anyways to block out noise. It was standard procedure, no one wanting to get caught having a wet dream. Harry stripped fitfully, not even sure he’d be able to sleep now.

Stupid Hermione, putting her foot in her mouth once again. Draco had given up his fucking family to be in Harry’s pack, even if he hadn’t told anyone yet. The boy had fucking sacrificed so much, and Harry still wasn’t even sure why. Because Harry was hardly perfect in any way. He wasn’t clever, wasn’t particularly strong or fast. He could kick ass in Quidditch, but that wasn’t really something to go loving a bloke over.

He groaned, burying his head in his hands. Draco loved him and that was all that mattered. It didn’t matter why. Draco was brilliant, beautiful, witty, and apparently willing to learn and do some very nasty things to Harry to keep him happy sexually. He loved Harry so much he had mated him, and that was huge. He just had to remember. Draco loved him, even if Harry could not understand why.

He considered briefly seeing if Draco had gotten to bed already. He’d much rather curl in some dungeon room with the boy than ruminate alone with his messed up head. But Draco needed to sleep. His wolfie actually cared about school and grades, and Harry didn’t want to become a nuisance. Sighing, he threw his bed curtains opened, and was halfway onto the bed before he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Neville—Shit—Stop!” Harry hissed, finding his arms suddenly tied behind his back while he was pushed down into the mattress face first. The bed curtains were pulled tight around them, silencing spells muffling the small space. Neville suddenly lifted him, dragging him up the bed with a single, powerful move that had Harry’s eyes wide and heart racing all at once. What the fuck?

“See, Harry? Strong.” Neville straddled the boy’s back, hands moving beneath Harry’s shirt, touching firmly, digging fingers in and scraping his nails painfully. “I just had to find the right spell.”

“Get the fuck off me!” Harry struggled, trying to lift himself up and push the boy off, but without his arms it was very difficult. Not to mention, feeling a body pressing him down like this really got him hot, as did pushing back against it. “Damn it! Do you not understand anything? I have a pack! I have a boyfriend! I don’t fucking like you!”

Neville shrugged disinterestedly, tearing at Harry’s belt. Harry could say he didn’t like him till he was blue in the face, but as long as he kept smelling the way he did, Neville knew better. “I really like your new clothes. You look really hot—Really, really hot. I wish I was that brave. But looking at you… smelling you…” He groaned, leaning down to smell Harry’s hair while he rubbed his erection against the boy’s firm ass. “You want it so bad… and I want to give it to you…”

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Neville, it’s just a fucking sex scent. You know I can’t control—Fuck! Vicious… rabid… bastard!” Neville hurt when he bit, teeth clamping in too hard, wrenching every time he pulled away, only to do it again. Harry whimpered, hating his body so much right now, the pain making him hard, each malicious snapping of teeth on his shoulders and neck flooding heat through him like a warm syrup of need. “Fucking hate you…” he gritted out angrily, even while pushing his hips into the mattress for more contact on his hardening dick.

Neville smiled into Harry’s neck, pushing the boy’s shorts down over his hips, along with his underwear. “No you don’t… Otherwise you would have told Lupin.” He gripped Harry’s outer thighs, nails biting in, scratching as he pulled up his sides and drew blood. Harry hissed from the pain, again trying to throw the boy off his back. “You like me… And you’re going to like me more, now that I made myself strong for you.”

God, he was feeling so hot, Harry finding his breath coming out in harsh pants. Every pull of his arms in their bonds seemed to go straight to his cock, his inability to escape somehow maddeningly sexy when combined with Neville’s sudden strength. “Stop… biting…” Harry gritted out, the blond again tearing into his flesh, leaving welts and breaking his skin.

“It feels good,” Neville moaned, opening his mouth wider, tongue pushing out to taste the trickles of blood. He liked the taste of Harry’s skin, and he liked how his mouth got sore, his lips raw with every nip, jaw tight, the feel of firm flesh on his teeth. He clamped his teeth into Harry’s shoulder, biting hard on the muscle. Harry groaned, hips pushing back against him, and Neville knew the boy really, really liked it. No matter how much Harry yelped when he then wrenched his mouth away, teeth scraping and pinching.

“I want to fuck you, Harry. It’s my turn.” Neville pushed up Harry’s thin shirt as much as he could on the boy’s torso, fingers slipping underneath and seeking out his budded nipples. “I don’t care how many you have in your pack, and what you let them do to you. Just as long as you play with me sometimes…”

“Fucking—Bastard!” Harry hissed, Neville twisting one of his nipples so hard, he wasn’t a hundred percent certain it was still attached. “Stop being so fucking rough… ohh… oh fuck…” He gaped, thighs spreading unconsciously wider, his boots catching on the blanket.

“You like that, right? I can tell… It hurts, and then you like it… and you smell even better…”

Harry whimpered when Neville twisted the same flaming bud, the boy’s fingernails digging in. He was grateful for the sweat, making it harder for Neville to hold as tight even though the boy still managed to make it hurt. Shit, what the hell was Neville’s problem? “Damn it… You don’t have to hurt me to—Fucking shit! Seriously, stop biting!”

Neville snickered into Harry’s skin, teeth pulling harshly as he released, leaving a dark welt. “I like it. You can bite me whenever you want, Harry. You can do whatever you want to me, and I promise I’ll never get angry.”

“I don’t want to do anything to you, you crazy idiot. I just want—Crap, don’t do that… Really, don’t… oh fuck…” One of Neville’s hands had made its way down the front of Harry’s bare torso, fingers wrapping around his dick. Harry panted, praying the boy would show some damn restraint.

“You’re hard,” Neville whispered, licking up Harry’s throat, letting his weight sink down fully on the boy while he rubbed against him eagerly. “You’re hard because you like what I’m doing to you.”

Huffing, Harry turned his head to the side, trying to breathe against the bedspread. “You wouldn’t have tied me up—Oh, gentle! Please, for the love of god, do not hurt that!” Harry pleaded, eyes squeezed shut when Neville started scraping fingernails against the silken flesh of his hard cock.

“Just a little,” Neville promised, squirming against Harry’s back as he pushed his own pants down. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you here… I really like how hard you get, Harry. I like knowing I can make you hard—That you like what I do to you.”

Harry, all his attention focused on the dangerous fingernails now traveling towards his very sensitive head, and even more so slit, didn’t reply. If Neville couldn’t fucking figure out that jumping him, tying him up, and using magically enhanced strength was the only way Harry would even look at the boy twice, he would not be able to convince him now when his pants were around his thighs and his cock was very hard in the boy’s grasp.

“You know… I think we’re even about the same length,” Neville remarked with a smile, Harry hissing when the boy’s nails slid from the very tip of his cock down to his balls. Then Neville’s palm was wrapping around him, too dry, the small scrapes feeling like burns as the boy began to pump him.

“Neville—Shit—Lube, saliva, something!” Harry choked out, groaning even with the pain, his body responding with jolting hips.

“I know it hurts… but sometimes it’s supposed to hurt,” Neville mumbled, his free hand suddenly sliding between Harry’s tight cheeks, seeking out his pucker. Harry had been with Draco that night, the Slytherin transforming into his wolf for him to make sure Harry would be full and satisfied until the next time he had a chance to see his love. Harry was extremely grateful for the stretching that had involved, Neville briefly pressing his thumb into Harry’s opening before immediately withdrawing and pressing the head of his cock between his cheeks.

“Just wait one fucking…” Harry trailed off with a hiss, wishing he hadn’t cleaned up before the walk through the halls, not even remotely enough lube to make things slick. As long as he didn’t—Son of a— “Damn it, Neville,” Harry whined loudly, his hole clenching tight around the too dry intruder, the fucking coyote not even remotely as small as Harry had hoped. God, why was his body turning on him tonight?

“You’re so hot… so tight inside…” Neville groaned, gripping Harry’s hip painfully, nails digging in as he thrust forward.

“It hurts… you fucking… ass…” Harry whimpered angrily, his entrance burning with every inch Neville forced into him. At least the coyote had enough precum, enough fucking fluid to not burn every damn surface of Harry’s insides. At least when Draco had taken him unstretched, he had been slow, allowing Harry to adjust with every perfect push. If Neville had ever fucked anyone, Harry didn’t believe it, and he was very unhappy to be the ignorant kid’s trial run.

“Its ‘cus you’re so tight… You are really… wow…” Neville took a deep breath, burying his face into Harry’s neck. “God Harry, you feel so good inside… I dreamed of fucking you one day, but it never… god, it never felt this good…”

Harry groaned, gritting his teeth and praying the annoying fuck would cum already and let him go. “Neville… read a fucking… sex book… and stop…”

“Shh… Just close your eyes,” Neville murmured. “I’m gonna just… and you’re gonna like it so much…”

“Stop, you fucking—Nails!”

Neville growled into Harry’s neck, fingernails again digging into the boy’s hard cock. “Be nice, Harry. I could have called you fucking stupid names… made you drink terrible potions… I could have dressed you up in horrible clothes…” Neville kissed the side of Harry’s neck, his hand lightening in pressure. “But I like you, and I want to do things that you’ll like.”

“Neville… If you don’t listen to me… then you can’t know that I don’t like it!” Harry snapped back, groaning when Neville suddenly gasped, sinking in the last painful inch, Harry’s hole unbearably tight.

“I know you like it,” Neville insisted. He bit Harry’s shoulder, the brunette moaning, his traitorous body just happy to be filled. “You really feel… so good inside…”

“Oh hell, Neville… my prick is not a handle. Now let it the fuck go,” he snapped, sighing in relief when the boy finally released his aching length. Only to groan, Neville grabbing his hips with both hands, using the leverage to drive Harry forward into the mattress.

“Tell me… if I’m doing it right,” Neville whispered into Harry’s ear, lips wet on his skin. “I really want you to like it, Harry. When I’m with you, I want you to be happy.”

Harry really hated Neville, especially when his body was finally full of cock and the boy refused to move. “Just… just move, Neville… Damn it—And don’t be so rough.”

“You like it rough.” Neville groaned as he slowly withdrew from Harry’s tightness, only to quickly slam back in. “You keep getting tighter… like you’re pulling…”

“Listen to me,” Harry growled. “There is a—oh god—difference between rough and… and really fucking painful…” He trailed off, moaning lowly. Shit, why did he have to like sex this much? If his body knew a difference, it did not seem to care. “And without something slick, like a lube charm… it just hurts…”

Neville stilled, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder. “Lube?”

“Oh, for fuck sake! Tell me you’ve heard of lube,” Harry demanded, glaring back at the boy, his bound arms sore and his raw hole even more so.

Neville shook his head no, lip caught between his teeth. “What is it?”

Harry gave a long suffering sigh, promising himself he would beat the shit out of Neville once he was free. “It’s usually an oil safe to use on the skin, the good stuff is natural and long lasting—It makes things slick, so when you’re fucking it doesn’t hurt.”

Head tilted, Neville suddenly smiled down at Harry. “That would probably help. I didn’t want to say anything, but you are really way too tight, and I bet—”

Harry buried his head in the mattress, swearing loudly. He wouldn’t be tight if the stupid fucker had stretched him, and lubed him, and oh, just wasn’t fucking raping him. He hated Neville, fucking hated him. “Wand!” He abruptly ordered, Neville staring at him dumbly for a moment before complying.

“Ducatus coitus,” Harry intoned slowly, so Neville could repeat it. Staring at the slick, gel like material suddenly all over his hands, Neville gave it a sniff. He flicked his tongue out, brows furrowed.

“Why does it taste like strawberries?”

“Because wizards are pervs,” Harry grumbled. “Just use it so it doesn’t hurt so much.”

Shrugging, Neville extracted himself from Harry’s clenching rear, the brunette hissing the entire time. “Oh… oh, that’s really…” Harry glared up at the boy while Neville ran his slick hand over his cock, the blond sighing, cheeks flushing brightly from the sensation.

“Better?” Harry asked gruffly, annoyed with just how cute Neville looked, the boy’s tongue sticking out between his lips, eyelids fluttered shut while he gasped softly against his skin.

“It’s amazing… I never thought…” Neville trailed off, glancing away from Harry’s gaze.

Harry sighed. The boy was really messed up. “Neville, don’t let anyone fuck you without lube. That’s just a really shitty thing to do to someone.”

Neville glanced back, biting his lip again. He wiggled up Harry’s back until their foreheads were pressed together. “If you fucked me, would you use lube?” Neville asked, eyes intent on Harry’s.

Pursing his lips, Harry nodded once. “I prefer to be the one getting fucked. But yes, if I were to fuck a bloke, or even give him a proper, good hand job, I’d use lube.”

Eyes moving over Harry’s face with something far more annoying than simple attraction, Neville moved closer, brushing the side of his nose to Harry’s. “Do you think you’d ever want to fuck me? I… I really want you to fuck me, Harry. I don’t think I ever wanted anyone to, but there is just something about you… that I really like…” He pressed his lips carefully to the brunette’s, knowing at least in this it shouldn’t hurt.

Staring blankly at the maddening idiot kissing him, Harry eventually sighed. “Neville, untie me.”

Gnawing on his lower lip again, Neville pulled away. “Now,” Harry demanded when the blond hesitated. With a heavy sigh, Neville picked up his wand and tapped it to Harry’s bonds, the ropes evaporating. Harry stretched his arms out, rubbing his wrists and rolling on the bed. “Well, come on. Take your damn clothes off,” Harry said with a huff.

“Huh… um… what?” Neville mumbled, eyes widening when Harry suddenly reached up and began tugging off his school shirt.

“You can’t have sex with clothes on—I mean, you can, if that’s your kink, but it gets damn messy, really quick. And skin just feels so much nicer…” Harry pulled his own shirt up and extracted the sleeve from his many bracelets, finding Neville again, the boy’s expression still very confused. “Don’t get the wrong idea, you idiot. I have an amazing boyfriend, and a pack. I just really happen to like sex… and since you’re already here…”

Neville nodded dumbly, eyes lingering over Harry’s nipples. “But…”

“You know what? You probably shouldn’t talk either,” Harry muttered, kicking his shoes off and getting his shorts and underwear down. When Neville still made no move to continue, Harry grabbed the boy by the open ends of his trousers, pulling his pants down roughly to his knees where they knelt. Neville blinked down, suddenly holding Harry’s hips for balance while looking at their flushed cocks.

“Are you going to fuck me?” Neville asked, lube slicked fingers reaching for Harry’s length and rubbing over the straining head.

“No,” Harry said flatly. He was pretty sure fucking Neville would just make the kid completely beyond in love with him, and Neville obsessed was absolutely bad enough. “If you want to put it in me, that’s fine, but that is the most you’re getting from me effort wise. Now kick your pants off the rest of the way.”

Neville did, having to sit to extract his slender legs from his trousers. He was watching Harry warily, as if not knowing if he could trust the boy all of a sudden. Which only made Harry worry more about the damn kid. Neville was perfectly fine to chase after him when Harry was saying no, but the second he gave him an in, the blond was paranoid. There was something seriously messed with the kid.

“Why are you doing this?” Neville asked, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Does it really fucking matter?” Harry retorted with a derisive snort.

“Kind of… You’re not so lost that you can’t run away… and… you’re being oddly nice…” Neville mumbled, crawling up the bed and stopping at Harry’s kneeling form. “I know you don’t… don’t really like me, Harry.”

Harry really hated his life. “Neville, you’re not a bad guy… besides the raping…” Harry trailed off, really having nothing more to add to such a fucked up statement. “But, if you’re going to fuck a bloke, you should at least do it proper. I mean, damn, you fucking hurt. It’s not cool.”

Neville nodded, wetting his lips as he sat back. “I don’t really know how else… I just thought that was how it was supposed to be.”

“Shit, no one would have sex if all they did was hurt each other,” Harry said in exasperation. “No nails. No biting—”

“But you like the biting,” Neville insisted, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Not the way you do it. Let me show you,” Harry said abruptly, edging closer to the boy who was looking at him as if he were about to hex him. “Just relax,” Harry grumbled, annoyed that not only was he doing this, but suddenly Neville needed a peptalk too. He braced himself on the blond’s shoulders, ducking his head to brush his mouth to Neville’s neck. Ignoring just how stiff the boy was sitting, Harry carefully sunk his teeth into Neville’s neck, tongue lapping slowly while he breathed out through his nose. Neville made a soft noise, slowly relaxing under the touch.

Harry pulled away, making sure not to wrench his teeth like Neville had a terrible habit of doing. “There. Want to try?” He asked, tilting his head to the side in offering. It took a moment, Neville blinking dumbly. Then the boy slung an arm around Harry’s chest, growling as he buried his face into the brunette’s throat and clamped his teeth in. Harry groaned from the sensation, really hoping that the bite would end as good as it started. Thankfully, Neville had been paying attention, and even though he bit harder than Harry had shown him, he didn’t tear at him afterwards. “Good… that’s really good,” Harry said with a flush, pushing his damp hair back from his eyes.

“What else?” Neville asked, tension draining from his form, a small, eager smile on his face.

“Nails,” Harry said, smirking back. “You dig them in too hard. It’s not supposed to hurt…” Harry didn’t bother to add that sometimes some hurt was really fucking good when at the right time. Likely a bit too complicated for the boy currently looking at his hands. Harry reached over, running his short fingernails over Neville’s stomach, the boy gasping and quickly grabbing his wrist. “Too much?” Harry asked, confused by the reaction.

“No… just felt really good.” Neville bit his lip, slowly letting Harry’s hand go. The wariness was back in his blue eyes again, but still, he reached over and repeated the move on Harry, this time not drawing blood or hurting skin. “Is that better?”

Harry nodded, wondering just what the hell was going on in the blond’s head. “I can… show you how to kiss,” he offered, watching the boy’s expressions. There was definitely some sort of fucked up thing happening in that pretty head of Neville’s.

“Um… okay,” Neville said after a long moment, leaning forward on his hands. Harry hesitated, Neville not closing his eyes even inches apart. He carefully placed his hands over the boy’s face until Neville got the point and finally lowered his lashes. “You want to feel it. When your eyes are open, it’s hard to feel as much…” Shaking his head, Harry leaned in, brushing his lips to the boy’s.

Neville was trembling like a leaf, and Harry began to worry that he had definitely made the wrong choice to indulge the boy. Hopefully it was just nerves and not some loving quiver. He cupped the blond’s cheek, pulling him closer, kissing him with more pressure. Neville exhaled sharply through his mouth, Harry smirking to realize the boy was holding his breath. “Breathe through your nose if you can,” he murmured, reaching his tongue out and slicking gently over the boy’s bottom lip. Neville whimpered, mouth going slack, letting Harry slowly nibble at his lip, drawing the pink flesh into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue.

Gasping, Neville pulled away, burying his face into Harry’s cheek. Studying the boy’s expression in the dim lighting, Harry nudged Neville’s chin, kissing him again, tangling his fingers into the blond’s soft hair and pulling muffled gasps from his lips. Neville’s tongue was uncoordinated at best, but he made up for it with passion, the boy meeting each of Harry’s touches eagerly. And then something changed, and Neville was definitely winning the kiss, the boy grasping forcefully at Harry’s shoulders, tongue delving into the brunette’s mouth.

“Hell,” Harry grunted, Neville pushing him back, down to the bed, giving him a moment of respite before attacking his mouth again while pinning him. And this time Harry really didn’t mind, no nails digging in painfully, or horrible bites to take away from the very nice feeling of hot, smooth flesh and wet mouth. Neville trailed down Harry’s neck, kissing and biting, groaning each time Harry moaned.

Harry wrapped a leg around the boy’s hips, letting his hands slide carefully down Neville’s back. The boy was oddly jumpy, startling sometimes when he wasn’t expecting Harry’s touch. So Harry just kept his palms flat, a constant presence as he moved over Neville’s flared shoulders, trim waist, and the swell of his ass. He squeezed gently, Neville pulling from where he was sucking breathlessly on Harry’s collar to meet the boy’s eye.

“You can tell me not to do something, you know,” Harry said after a moment, not sure what the blond needed, but getting an idea that Neville didn’t like to be touched much.

“No… I just… It feels good,” Neville mumbled, looking away. “I’m just not used to… that.”

“Well, then you’re definitely with the wrong people,” Harry said lightly. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling good. By definition, it’s good to feel good.” Neville nodded mutely, eyes making their way back to Harry’s. Head tilting, he kissed the brunette, Harry suspecting just to shut him up at this point. He didn’t care. Harry knew Neville was fucked up because he recognized his own messed up self when looking at the boy. For right this minute, Harry decided he didn’t have to hate that either.

“Wait,” Harry paused, breaking from the long kiss when Neville started shifting his hips. “The other way,” he said, untangling his leg and rolling on the bed. There was no way he was going to let Neville fuck him face to face like that. The boy kept looking way too sad at times, and it was a total mood killer. He raised himself to his hands and knees, stretching out as he waited for the blond.

Neville summoned more lube, sounding rather proud of himself as he ran his fingers down between Harry’s cheeks. Harry rolled his eyes when the boy began to slick his hands over his hard length next, completely oblivious to the need to stretch. Shifting down to his elbow, Harry did it himself, quickly probing his own lube slick fingers inside his hole, gasping from the feel, his body clenching, entrance burning painfully from the rough treatment of earlier. Harry had gotten over worse for a desperately needed fuck, and although this was not one of those times, he was sure he’d be fine.

“Does that… feel good?” Neville asked, curling over Harry’s body, head lowering to the brunette’s. “You really seem to like it.”

Harry held back a laugh at the question, a moan escaping instead when Neville pressed his thumb against his already finger-stuffed hole. “Oh fuck… that’s… that’s…”

Seeing that Harry really seemed to like that, Neville swallowed hard, wiggling his thumb back and forth while watching the brunette’s face. Harry gave an aching cry, gasping against the bedspread with each rock of Neville’s digit. Biting his lip, Neville pulled Harry’s fingers from his entrance, pressing the head of his cock to his hole instead. Every reaction Harry made seemed to make Neville hotter than any scent or touch had done, his eyes caught on the brunette’s bowed head, Harry whimpering as Neville slowly drove into him.

Neville closed his eyes, gaping from the feel of Harry, so hot, and now slick, the boy’s channel clenching around him.

“Fuck… move, Nev… don’t just stay still…” Harry pleaded, pushing back, thighs spreading wider as he rested his head on his folded arms.

Wetting his lips, Neville rocked back, keeping his eyes closed so he could feel every tight inch of Harry trying to hold him in. He groaned as he surged forward, feeling the boy open to him again, Harry making an appreciative cry in reply. It was good. He was actually fucking Harry, and felt really, really good.

“That’s it,” Harry gasped out, Neville picking up speed, his thrusts, combined with the spell that made him stronger, pushing Harry forward up the bed until he was grabbing the headboard to keep from cracking his skull on it. “Harder, Nev… fucking do it… hard…” he demanded hoarsely, bracing himself so he could push back into each driving jolt of pleasure.

Neville grunted, Harry growing unbelievably tight and trying to hold him still, even while demanding he move harder. But he really wanted Harry to feel good. He reached around Harry and grabbed the headboard as well, gasping in the boy’s ear while he used the new leverage to drive into the brunette forcefully.

“Oh yeah, that’s it… just… like… that…” Harry moaned, rocking with Neville, his already aching hole so sore and loving every wet, bruising thrust. “Fuck, don’t stop… just a little more…”

“Oh!” Neville gaped, Harry suddenly squeezing him so tight, he couldn’t do anything but slam forward, holding the brunette’s sweaty body while he came inside his clenching hole. He only had an instant to worry that he had very much done the opposite of what Harry had so achingly demanded, when he felt the boy come, Harry falling forward onto the headboard, gasping for air.

“Wait… just stay a sec,” Harry whimpered, hand reaching out behind him to grab Neville’s arm and keep it wrapped around him. “God, it feels good inside… just let me be full for a bit.”

Eyes wide, Neville slowly sank forward, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder. Harry still had bracelets on, Neville running fingers over a few while they panted together. “You liked it,” Neville whispered, pressing his cheek lightly to Harry’s.

“Yeah… well… I like sex,” Harry murmured back, hardly about to apologize for it. “Did you like it?” He asked, green eyes flicking open to glance sideways at the pensive looking blond.

“I’m not sure…” Neville said truthfully, fingers twisting into one of Harry’s bracelets. “It’s a lot of work, all that thrusting. And… and it felt… well, it felt… And I don’t know how I feel about feeling things.”

Harry chose not to comment on just how odd a thing that was to say. “When it feels good, I really enjoy it. And sometimes, when it feels good with just a little bit of pain, that’s even better. But if it doesn’t feel good, I know I don’t want to feel it.” He sighed, straightening a bit, still holding onto Neville’s arm to keep the boy deep inside. “As for all that thrusting, well, it’s great exercise. And when you bottom as much as I do, you really don’t have to worry about it much. I’d rather let some powerful, usually sexy prat do the work for me while I cheer him on enthusiastically.”

Neville nodded, mind straying to the boy he had been trying very hard not to think about lately. “Hey, Harry… What do you think about Zabini?”

Eyes again glancing Neville’s way, Harry raised a brow. “Um… I guess he would fit into powerful, sexy prat, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I think he likes me,” Neville said after a moment, resting his cheek on the boy’s shoulder. “Except… he’s also angry at me…”
Harry snorted softly. “That seems about right. Did he hit you, or something?”

“Nah… he just kinda glares at me now… like all the time. He tried to kiss me and stuff… and I guess I just wasn’t any good.” Neville shrugged.

“Well, he seemed more interested in you than me the other week, which is really saying something with my sex scent,” Harry said, releasing Neville’s wrist and wiggling his way free. He stretched his arms over his head, sitting out on his bedspread while Neville sat back. “The Hogsmeade weekend is coming up. If he seriously likes you, I bet he’d really want to go with you.” Draco was taking Harry out for their first official date that weekend, promising some sort of fancy dinner or something equally romantic and embarrassing.

“I got banned…” Neville muttered, internally cursing his potions professor.

Harry winced. “Forgot about that… Snape’s a total ass. It doesn’t matter, Nev, trust me. The kid likes you. Just talk to him, or some shit. You don’t even have to say anything interesting. He’s a guy, and guys really don’t give a fuck.”

Neville wasn’t so sure, worried if Zabini was really angry at him, that he might try to hurt him. But so far, Blaise had proven that even when upset he wouldn’t hurt Neville, so maybe that was enough to at least try and set things right with the Slytherin.

Harry threw Neville’s pants at him, giving him a stern, sleepy look. “Only time this is ever going to happen, so don’t forget. My boyfriend is a right bastard when he’s crossed, and honestly, you deserve a beating for what you did, Neville. I’m not some fucking sex toy. Get a blowup doll or something. Definitely read a fucking book about all this stuff.”

Neville bit his lip, drawn back to the present as he slipped his shirt on. “Sorry… you’ve just been looking really good… And you really shouldn’t wear shorts, ‘cus it only makes the smell worse,” he said while blushing. “It was really hard today, being in the same classes with you smelling so good…”

Harry grimaced, not having even thought of that. “I’m trying to find a way to stop my scent. Until then, you need to get some fucking self control, Neville. You don’t see Zabini trying to break down the common room door, do you?”

“I know… just sometimes things get really hazy… and I don’t really know what’s happening…” Neville trailed off, shimmying into his pants and zipping them up. It was why he had so many problems in some classes. Not just because he got nervous with everyone making fun of him, but because sometimes he just sort of went blank, and couldn’t remember the class at all. “I’ll, uh, let you get to sleep,” he said, reaching for the curtain.

Harry held his hand up, waving Neville back. “I’m serious, Neville. Fucking deathly serious here. If you try and pull something like this again, I’m telling Lupin. I don’t want to, but I can’t be worried about you jumping me in my bed every fucking night. I don’t care how fucked you are in the head. No more.”

Neville nodded, sighing heavily. “I understand.” He slipped out before Harry found anything else to be angry about, certain the boy had a list. Neville really couldn’t do things right. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure when he had decided to hide in Harry’s bed hangings and wait for the boy. And at the time, he really hadn’t thought he had been waiting just to fuck him against his will. Neville never wanted to hurt Harry. He really liked the boy.

He had remembered he had wanted to talk to Harry… And then Harry’s bed had been full of that crazy scent…

Neville sighed again. Maybe it would be better if Harry did tell on him. Maybe Lupin hurting, or expelling him would keep Neville from doing anything else really terrible.