A collection of small poems and verses dealing with the pain of heartbreak and the slow process of healing.
Sunday, September 23, 2018
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
When an unplanned and unwanted remodel of his apartment leaves Detective Dylan Vancarr homeless, the natural thing for him to do is turn up on the doorstep of his best friend and partner, Tyler Wilky.
An arrangement meant to last only for a night quickly turns into a surprisingly comfortable new life for the both of them.
While living with Tyler and realizing just how easily their lives mesh, Dylan quickly begins to realize that he may have found a partner for more than just the job.
He may have found a partner in love.
“Hey, Ty?” Dylan practically whispers.
“Yeah?” Tyler hums back.
“Things’ll be better tomorrow, right?” Dylan doesn’t want to admit to the way his voice breaks on the question, doesn’t want to admit that sometimes the job gets to him like this.
To his credit Tyler doesn’t say anything, doesn’t call Dylan on his moment of weakness and need. Instead he wraps his arm a bit tighter around Dylan’s shoulder, pulls him in closer and moves his face so that he can whisper in his ear.
“Yeah, princess.” Tyler’s breath is warm against his skin. “They’ll be better tomorrow. I’ll make sure of it.”
The funny thing is that Dylan’s pretty sure that Tyler can do it, and that tomorrow will be better because it won’t dare defy Tyler’s truly epic stubbornness.
Dylan drifts off into a hazy state of almost sleep, comforted by Tyler’s familiar presence and the rhythmic puffing of warm breath on the side of his neck.
It’s comfortable and comforting being so close to Tyler. It feels more like home than anything Dylan’s felt in years.
Thursday, October 27, 2016
In a world where magic makes might Cyril Arlen is the fourth son of the Matriarch of House Arlen, a powerful clan of witch-born. Uninterested in politics or the pressures associated with his House, Cyril is content to leave it all behind to live a quiet and peaceful life on his own.
Unfortunately not everyone agrees with that choice.
After a decade of peace Cyril is unexpectedly named Heritor to his mother’s position and shoved back into the spotlight against his will.
Now, forced to deal with a power hungry half-brother and the pressures of one day ruling his House, Cyril’s only comfort is Alpha Sinclair Ferus. Sinclair is duty bound to protect him and happens to be
the same man who has fascinated Cyril since he was a child.
Despite his reluctance to accept his new position Cyril finds that having Sinclair around might just make it all worthwhile.
For one tense, almost too long moment, Sinclair was rigid against him, the shoulder beneath his hand as hard as marble. Just as Cyril was prepared to pull back, to stammer an apology and find somewhere to hide until his hurt and humiliation had faded, Sinclair moved.
Alpha in all the ways that mattered, Sinclair took control of the kiss with a barely suppressed snarl. His mouth went from passive to aggressive as his arms came up, one large hand cupped the back of Cyril’s neck firmly while the other arm wrapped itself around his waist. Cyril barely had time to blink before he was tugged even closer to the heat of Sinclair’s frame and desire threatened to completely white out his thoughts.
There was a low rumbling growl building in Sinclair’s chest, Cyril could feel it with as close as they were pressed together. Caught up in his lust Cyril couldn’t help but try and press even closer to him. The arm around his waist was a band of steel that clutched him tightly as Sinclair’s tongue swept into his mouth to tangle with his own. Sinclair tasted of mint and hints of spice, chai like the tea he drank in the afternoons.
The arm around his waist moved then. Sinclair’s hand trailed down across his waist and his lower back only to pause long enough to squeeze his ass for a brief moment. Then, with a flex of muscle, Cyril found himself hoisted in the air so that he could wrap his legs around Sinclair’s tapered waist. He groaned at the sensations the new position invoked, at the way Sinclair’s hips fit so nicely between his thighs, even as Sinclair shifted them until Cyril felt a wall at his back.
Sinclair broke the kiss a few seconds later only to nip sharply at Cyril’s bottom lip and duck down so he could mouth wetly at the curve of his throat. Cyril didn’t hesitate to tip his head back as far as he could against the wall behind him, purposefully baring his throat.
Sinclair made a rough growling noise and then his mouth seemed to be everywhere. He sucked harshly at Cyril’s pulse point, ran his tongue across the throbbing vein, nipped at the sensitive skin until Cyril knew he’d have marks. He also knew what the willing and open baring of a throat meant to a wolf.
Friday, March 4, 2016
When Hannah Knowles is invited on a winter get away by friends she doesn’t expect it to end in disaster. An overheard conversation leaves Hannah reeling from the discovery that those friendships are a lot more one sided than she’d thought. Determined to leave she ends up stranded in a winter storm only to be taken in by Luke, the sexy and seemingly unattainable older brother of Jamie, her childhood friend.
Luke Draper is more than happy to take Hannah in out of the cold. Having the alluring Hannah in close confines with him is both painful and tempting for Luke. Still, conscious of her fragile feelings, Luke’s determined to carefully restrain his long held desire. Until Hannah makes a suggestion that Luke’s hard pressed to pass up.
Together Hannah and Luke have to decide if being a little bit reckless is really the right thing to do.
For a long moment Luke didn’t, couldn’t, breathe, his air trapped somewhere in his chest.
‘Did she really just say that?’ Luke asked himself incredulously. Unable to believe what he’d just heard he struggled to rein in his suddenly whirling mind.
Aware that Hannah was staring at him, an expectant look on her face, Luke shook his head harshly and tried to come back to reality.
“What?” His voice came out as little more than a rasp. Luke swallowed harshly, aware of the dry clicking sound his throat made, and tried not to focus on the way his cock automatically stiffened or how sheer want surged through his veins. Every fantasy he’d ever had about her seemed to be trying to rush in on him all at once, and to compete for first place in his mind.
“I said,” Hannah’s head was tilted up at an almost defiant angle but Luke could tell that her boldness was beginning to fade, “I think we should have sex.”
“Yeah,” Luke nodded as he stepped carefully over the broken shards of the dropped mugs and moved to stand directly in front of her, “that’s what I thought you said.”
Then he did the only thing he could do in that moment.
He leaned down and kissed her.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
As a Chroma agent, one of the elite operatives for the Spectrum Intelligence Agency, Jonah Gray was skilled enough to handle most anything that came his way. If not, Jonah knew he could always rely on his handler, the clever Mr. Fox, to pull him through. Drawn to the seductive voice and commanding strength of the man on the other end of the line, Jonah wavers between his attraction to his handler and the knowledge that handlers and operatives are never supposed to meet.
Then a mission goes horribly wrong and Jonah finds himself on the wrong end of a kill order. With Jonah on the run, both handler and operative are desperate to finally meet so they can face this new threat head on. Together they struggle to discover who wants Jonah dead while they finally take the opportunity to embrace the passion that has always simmered between them.
“Are your eyes closed?” Silas asked him quieter than before, softer and gentler.
“Yes Sir.” Jonah felt vulnerable in that moment, in a way he thought he’d left behind a long time ago. To distract himself a bit he let his hands come down to rest on his stomach, let his fingers slide gently over the skin there, but no lower. He didn’t have permission for that yet, after all.
“I’ve got you,” Silas promised almost as if he could tell what Jonah was feeling without even being able to see him. “You’re safe with me remember? You can relax and trust me Jonah. You can trust me to keep you safe, to tell you what to do. You can trust me with all of that. With all of you.”
“I know. I do.” Jonah fought back the swell of emotions in his chest as the mixture of devotion and affection that he always felt towards Silas threatened to burst free. Slowly, deliberately, he inhaled again. Exhaled. Inhaled, exhaled, repeated it until he felt himself even out, felt himself center.
“Good.” Silas said it roughly, voice ragged in a way that let Jonah know just how much his admittance meant to Silas. “I wish I could see you right now. You’re gorgeous Jonah, you know that don’t you? I bet you’re beautiful the way you are right now, laid back on that bed with your eyes closed, cock hard and body open. I bet you’re perfect. I’ve always thought you would be. Ever since the first time I saw you.”
Jonah’s eyes flew open in stunned surprise before he slammed them shut again. Silas’s voice was ragged but honest, deep and thick with that hot, honey drawl that Jonah loved so much.
“You’ve seen me?” The thought that Silas had seen him, knew what he looked like, and so obviously approved, made Jonah feel slightly giddy with a mixture of pride and relief.
“Oh yes.” Silas sounded amused for a moment then. “I’ve seen you many times Jonah. I am your handler after all. I’ve read your file, seen videos. Sometimes I watch you on the security cameras on missions. You’re a thing of beauty, Jonah. All lethal grace and power that draws the eye. Even when you’re off mission, even when you’re wandering around whatever city or town you decide to spend your time in, you’re still fascinating. Captivating.”
“And do I?” Jonah couldn’t help but ask. He needed to know, burned to know for certain whether or not the fascination he felt was mutual. “Do I captivate you?”
“Completely,” Silas admitted quietly and with that sort of brutal honesty in his voice that Jonah adored.