Archive for August, 2013


Welcome to the launch of DEEP PLUNGE, SoulShares #3. Lochlann Doran and Garrett Templar are the two newest additions to the little SoulShare community coming to center itself around Purgatory, the hottest gay club on the Eastern seaboard, which just happens to be built over a nexus of incredible raw magickal energy. Or they will be, if they survive their Sharing, and the test that will come after it…

Enjoy this excerpt, and the Amazon link is at the end!

            He had just spotted the recessed doorway that would take him up to his own apartment, directly over Luigi’s Italian Ristorante with the missing “n” where a rock or a bullet had taken out the neon tubing two or three years ago, when he first heard the footsteps behind him. Not quite running, but coming up fast.

            Shit. His grip tightened on the strap of his bag, ready to swing it — or ditch it, if it looked like that would help him escape . And for one sick, sweaty, gut-wrenching moment, he was ten years old again, hearing the kids closing in behind him, knowing there was no way in hell he was going to get away without another split lip, ruined shirt, blackened eye. Almost hearing his mother’s voice. Garrett Lee Templar, I swear, you find more trouble than any ten other boys ever dreamed of. Do you think I can just make new clothes appear out of thin air?

            “Garrett?”

            He recognized that voice from somewhere. Slowly, he turned. And stared up into eyes that gleamed blue even in the crappy light from the streetlight on the corner.

            “Lochlann?” He hadn’t had to rent his ass out for a while now, but the idea of a john following him home from the club still made his skin crawl. Yet there was something about those eyes, something different.

            No. Fuck that shit. You get hurt the worst when you let yourself hope

http://www.amazon.com/Deep-Plunge-SoulShares-ebook/dp/B00EV7OAYU/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1377916030&sr=1-1&keywords=Deep+Plunge+rory+ni+coileain


LASR Banner 2013 Anniversary copy

What a great way to kick off Release Week  for DEEP PLUNGE (SoulShares #3) – participating in the Long and Short Reviews 6th Anniversary Bash! If you’re finding me for the first time through the Long and Short Reviews site, welcome – and don’t forget to go back for more Q&A all week long, August 26-30! And to my regular followers, LASR is hosting a week of Twenty Questions, all about your favorite authors. Check their site, and see how I – and many other authors of romance and erotic romance – answered some VERY interesting questions. Oh, and did I mention prizes? Yes, there are prizes. Four $100 Amazon gift cards, publishers’ gift cards, books, e-books, and author swag galore! (Please, no one tell my teenaged son I used the word “swag”. He’s threatened to die of shame if it ever gets back to him. I think it means something else to his generation…) Here’s the link back to LASR:

http://www.longandshortreviews.com/category/guest-blogs/

And to thank you for stopping by – yes, I have a new release coming out on Friday, August 30. DEEP PLUNGE is the third in the SoulShares series, m/m urban fantasy erotic romance. An excerpt follows, just to whet your appetites. And everyone who comments below or follows my blog will be entered into a drawing for a free Kindle copy of DEEP PLUNGE. (Yes, if you both comment and follow, you’ll be entered twice.) Enjoy, and good luck, and happy reading!

“Sit down.” Tiernan motioned toward the chair in front of the desk as he dropped into his own.

“Thanks, I prefer to stand.” Lochlann arched a brow, looking pointedly down at the other Fae.

“I am sprung from the loins of an entire race of assholes.” Tiernan rolled his eyes, turning in his chair to check out the monitors before swinging back to look narrowly up at Lochlann. “Although without the attitude, I have to admit, I’d have a hard time believing you’re Fae.”

Sus do thón,” Lochlann offered pleasantly.

“Yeah, up yours, too, and may you have much joy of it.” Tiernan leaned back in his chair, put his bare feet up on the desk, and crossed his arms behind his head. “Speaking of which, what did you say that spooked Garrett like that? I don’t take kindly to my dancers being treated badly. Unless they want to be, in which case it’s none of my fucking business.”

Lochlann’s lip curled in a snarl. “It was nothing I said. It was…” His voice trailed off, as he remembered the way the ash-grey aura had curled up out of the human’s body, wisps of smoke from a fire nearly dead, weaving themselves into a shroud. “He has AIDS.”

Tiernan shook his head. “No. He’s HIV-positive. There’s a big difference.”

“Don’t condescend to me.” Lochlann bent forward, knuckles resting on the desk, looming over the other Fae. “I know what I saw. My Demesne is Water, my gifts are healing and empathy. I saw his aura. He’s dying.”

The words caught at his throat, clawed, as they left him. My scair-anam is dying, and there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it. A healer who can’t heal.

 

I thought I’d celebrate the upcoming release of Deep Plunge with a taste of Book Four in the SoulShares, Firestorm. This is a bit from Chapter Two, where we meet Rian Sheridan, a Belfast lad with an interesting hobby. Just remember, this hasn’t been edited yet… Oh, and warning — just a little bit of adult content…

Feargal grunted, and let go of Rian’s hair to grip his shoulder. Which was a bit of a disappointment, but Rian couldn’t spare time to think about it just now, not when he couldn’t fecking breathe and the drumbeat in his cock put the Lambeg drums to shame. Sweat poured down his face, down his chest, over the trail of stars inked into his flesh that spiraled from shoulder to abs and pointed straight to his throbbing erection. In and out, slow and massive. Rian’s low moan felt like it started at his toes, and the burn was as close as one such as he was ever going to get to Heaven. Even better, this pain was touching the buried place that craved the hurt. He never knew when he’d catch that wave, what new or old torture would start that rush. This was going to be one of the magical times. Each slight movement of the clenched fist in his ass was bringing him closer, not to one release, but to two. Bliss, pure and uncut.
Until the movement stopped.
“Jesus feckin’ Christ, finish what ye started!”
The response wasn’t what he expected.
“Get that arm out of him unless you can live without it.”
The voice was not Feargal’s.