Our release date is January 2 and we'll be visiting several other websites for interviews and guest blogs in the week following the release. Come visit us. See schedule in another post here.
Between Homeland Security's Gifted Agenda
and the bigotry of a fearful populace, having paranormal Gifts is a dangerous
thing. Pyrokinetic Aaron Flores knows firsthand how difficult it can be to
control his power. Still, he runs his bakery and never gives up on finding his
Happily Ever After. When Aaron's cousin asks him to check on her former EMT
partner, Aaron’s chance has finally arrived. He's determined not to let
anything stop him from catching (and keeping) his man.
Ramón Del Rio spent three days at the tender mercies of HOMSEC
agents when his former partner was taken. He wants nothing to do with a Gifted
guy, but Aaron is nothing if not persistent. He's a pastry chef after all, and
the way to a man's heart really is through his stomach. The physical passion
they share is the icing on the cake. Just when Ramón decides that having Gifts
might not be a deal breaker, someone close to Aaron decides his fire needs to
be put out—permanently. Ramón will have to face his fears to save them both.
Excerpt:
Ramón set a pair of tall green
glasses on the table and slid onto the stool at right angles to his own chair,
facing the dance floor.
“So you come here now and then, do
you?”
Ramón’s cheek twitched. “Maybe a
little more often than that.” He scanned the room and nodded at yet another
person waving at him. “Most of the gay contingent of the county’s cops,
firefighters, and EMTs come here. The band has a regular gig here too. They’re
pretty good.”
“I bet they are, but the next time
you say you’ve been somewhere a few times, I’ll have to assume you’re full of
shit.”
Ramón grinned at him and raised his
glass in a toast just as the sound system roared to life. The bass player plucked
out an opening riff that had Ramón jerking his head around to stare at him,
then dropping his face into his hand. Concerned, Aaron put a hand to his
shoulder. What the hell? He didn’t
understand what was going on until the bass player stopped and the lead singer
stepped up to the mike.
“Looks like we have some old friends
in the crowd tonight!” The man’s voice was deep and smoke-raspy, and he was
looking right at their table. Ramón looked up and shook his head, clearly
telling the man no way.
“Del
Rio!” The massive drummer had a massive voice, and the chant was quickly
picked up, first by the band and Ramón’s loud friends at the bar, then by the
rest of the patrons.
“Rio!
Rio! Rio!” Ramón pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a
minute while Aaron stared incredulously. It was obvious as soon as they walked
in that Ramón was well known here, but he certainly never expected anything
like this.
It quickly became clear that the
noise wasn’t going to stop until the man did whatever the hell it was they
wanted. Ramón slid off his chair and touched Aaron’s cheek with an apologetic
smile, then turned and walked quickly to the stage, while the chant turned into
a roar of whistles and cheers. Merciful
gods! Aaron watched in stunned amazement as Ramón, solid, serious Ramón set
one hand on the edge of the stage and vaulted onto it. He stood with his back
to the room for a long moment, plucking in what Aaron assumed was a nervous tic
at the buttons at the cuffs and the front of his shirt.
Shocked as he was to see his quiet
lover leap onto the stage, he was still unprepared for what came next. The
oldies bass riff came again, and Ramón turned quickly around, ripping off his
shirt at the same time. The dark cotton shirt drifted to the stage floor,
leaving Ramón in a thin wifebeater tank that gleamed whitely against his
beautiful copper-brown skin. Aaron tried to swallow with his suddenly dry
throat and gulped at his sticky drink.
Somehow the smooth baritone voice
was the least shocking part of this whole incredible experience. As a soulful
rendition of “Stand By Me” rolled over him, Ramón held his eyes, and the rest
of the room faded completely away.
The first verse and the chorus came
to him from the stage, and then, miraculously, unbelievably, it got even better.
On the second verse, as the rest of the band started a smooth vocal backup,
Ramón took the small headset that the lead handed him and started down the
stage stairs. His eyes never left Aaron’s as he prowled down the steps and
skirted the dance floor toward their small table.
The second chorus came, intense and
soulful, and Ramón’s hand slid down Aaron’s throat and chest, taking all the
air out of his lungs in the process. He struggled to breathe as the
instrumental break gave Ramón an opportunity to lean in and run his mouth
butterfly light along Aaron’s jaw and over the sensitive spot under his ear.
The tiny headset mike his lover wore picked up a faint echo of two pounding
heartbeats that blended seamlessly with the heavy bass line. By the time he pulled
away, it was all Aaron could do to let him go, watching with his heart in his
throat, tears in his eyes, and all the blood in his body in his jeans. The
final chorus brought Ramón back up to the stage, moving back up the stairs with
that panther-like grace that kept the eye of every man in the room riveted to
his magnificent body.
The song ended, and the crowd went
wild. Aaron hardly heard any of it as he sat frozen in his chair, gripping his
hideous green glass with one hand and pressing the other to his chest, trying
to get his rioting pulse under control. An erratic flame danced wildly in the
glass candleholder. Suddenly Ramón was there, sweeping him out of his seat and
into his arms to a fresh surge of whistles and cheers from the crowd. The band started
a new song, without Ramón this time, and the two of them moved effortlessly
together on the dance floor. As the space filled up with grinding, gyrating
men, Ramón’s mouth came down over his, and Aaron knew, without a doubt, that
the happily-ever-after he’d been waiting for all his life was right here in his
arms.
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