EXCERPT FROM PERCY ME & DADDY MAKES THREE...

 

BLURB:

What would you do when you see your daughter being led away by a stranger? Of course, you'd do exactly what Sam Reed did. Take him down and have him arrested for kidnapping.

But what would you do if you were Jared Thomas... "the stranger"... and not only were you taking the little girl to the nearest meeting point, but you were in fact Percy, the park's mascot? Would you forgive Sam... or have him arrested for assault?

EXCERPT:

 “Hey, wake up Sleeping Beauty, you’re outta here.”

Jared sat up on the uncomfortable mattress and looked up as the officer who had locked him up nine hours ago, opened the cell. “I am?”

“Yeah,” the man replied, indicating that Jared should follow him. “You’re roommate and your boss have confirmed your story. You’re free to go.”

Standing up, Jared stretched his arms above his head, wincing at the complaint of his muscles with the movement. Nine hours he’d been lying on the mattress from hell with a snoring drunk on the bunk above him. Not exactly high up on his list of things to do on a Saturday night. The police hadn’t been able to find anyone to corroborate his story, so all he’d been able to do was wait and hope Andy had been struck down with a terrible illness, because if he hadn’t, he was going to kill him.

Jared followed the officer down the hall and up the stairs to the duty sergeant’s desk, where a very concerned looking Andy waited for him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Where the hell have you been?” Jared hissed in annoyance. “I’ve been here for nine hours, you asshole!”

Andy looked suitably contrite, “I went to Davey’s and played Guitar Hero. I’m so sorry, dude. If I’d known you were gonna get arrested, I’d have gone straight home. What the fuck did you do?  What happened to your face?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jared bit back. “Unless taking a lost child to a meeting point is a criminal offence these days. The kid’s father thought I was trying to kidnap her and he tackled me.” He lifted his fingers and gently prodded at the heavy graze on his right cheek where the other man had pushed his head down onto the ground. His bicep was sore where the guy had knelt on it and there was another knee shaped bruise in his lower back. They’d sent in someone to clean up his face and check him out, but he ached like a son of a bitch.

“You wanna press charges for assault?”

Jared’s eyes widened as he looked at the duty sergeant. “I can do that?”

“Well, he assaulted you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, but he thought his kid was in danger,” Jared began, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“I can’t believe you’re defending this asshat,” Andy said incredulously. “What the hell is wrong with you?  You should press charges.”

“I just wanna get home and wash this place off me,” Jared glanced up at the duty sergeant and smiled ruefully, “no offense.” He scrubbed a hand through his unruly mop and then picked up the envelope containing his personal belongings. “I’ll sleep on it and let you know,” he mumbled, shoving Andy ahead of him toward the exit.

In Andy’s clapped out Chevy Nova, Jared wound down the window and leaned his elbow on the door, drawing in deep lungfuls of the cool night air. Everything ached and he felt dirty, his skin crawling from God alone knew what was on that disgusting mattress. He really didn’t want to give too much thought to that, or he might never feel clean again. Shaking his head in disbelief, he turned to Andy, who was grinning from ear to ear behind the wheel.

“So, dude, what was it like?  Were you anybody’s bitch?”

“Where do you think I was? Alcatraz?” Jared said as he stared at his friend. “You watch way too much crap TV.” He gazed back out of the window and rubbed a hand across his eyes. In truth, though he would never admit it to Andy, or anyone else, he’d been absolutely terrified. When they hadn’t accepted his explanation, bundled him into the cruiser and then mirandized him, a brief glimpse of his mother’s horrified face had skittered across his brain as she watched him being carted off to the big house. Of course, the one day he’d needed someone to confirm he worked at the park he’d got the only security guard who had no idea who he was, and no one else around of any standing to back him up. Fucking typical. The headlines would have been fabulous. Key thrown away on Percy Penguin for kidnap of a minor. Penguin Park shunned because of Percy shame.”

Andy pulled into the parking lot serving their apartment block and eased into their allocated space. Jared felt the weight of his friend’s gaze but was grateful to him for not actually saying anything as they climbed out of the car. He stomped toward the entrance of their building, aware of Andy’s footsteps behind him, but not slowing to wait. A hot shower and his bed were all he cared about right now. It was nearly three in the morning and he had to be at the park for eleven. Tomorrow was his day off but, annoyingly, he had agreed to some overtime and was scheduled to help Steve with the sea lions’ training session. He hoped a hot shower and metaphorically washing the experience down the drain would help him relax enough to sleep and put the whole damn thing behind him. Trotting up the stairs to their third floor apartment, with Andy bringing up the rear, Jared had a feeling that the memory tearful green eyes and sheer horror on Casey’s face as they led him away, was going to take a lot longer to fade.

****

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Sam complained almost falling over his own feet as he stumbled down the stairs toward the front door. Whoever it was, he was going to kill them. Seven-thirty on a Sunday was not exactly the time to catch Sam at his best, as the person knocking on the bright red wooden door was about to find out. “Do you know what—?” The rest of the sentence faltered on Sam’s lips as he found himself staring into the blue eyes of one of the cops who had arrested the freak yesterday. “Officer…” he mentally kicked himself for not remembering the man’s name.

“Fields,” the officer replied with a shrug, which suggested to Sam that he was used to repeating his name. “I’m sorry for calling at this early hour, Mr Reed, but you were on my way home and I thought you’d want to know that Mr Thomas has been released.”

“Released? How?” Sam’s mouth dropped open on its hinge in disbelief and  he beckoned the officer inside. Leading the man down the hall so that their voices wouldn’t wake Casey, he waved to the kitchen table and sank onto one of the chairs, indicating that Officer Fields should do the same. “Did he get bail or something?”

“Or something,” Officer Fields said wryly, sitting down in the proffered chair, removing his notebook from his jacket pocket and flipping it open. “Mr Thomas was released without charge in the early hours of this morning. His story was verified by both a work colleague and his supervisor late last night. He’s been employed at the park for the last four years as Percy, the animal park’s mascot and has no criminal record.” The officer’s lips lifted in a reassuring smile. “It would seem it was all a big misunderstanding. He really was taking Casey to a meeting point.”

Sam’s eyes widened with each sentence that left the officer’s lips, his stomach sinking. Shit!  It was true?  Everything the guy had been shouting, well, screaming, was true?  And Sam had just… shit… he’d accused him of being a pedophile… a child snatcher!  He was aware the officer was still talking but his interest was only dragged from his inner turmoil by one word. Assault. “I’m sorry, what?” he asked.

“I said, Mr Thomas has been advised of his right to bring assault charges against you, but we’ve not received a complaint from him… yet.”

“He can do that?” Sam said, completely aghast.

“Well,” Officer Fields raised an eyebrow. “You did assault him, Mr Reed.”

“I thought he was taking my kid,” Sam spluttered. “I’m an investment banker for God’s sake, I can’t have a criminal record!  I’ll lose my job!”

“Mr Reed,” Officer Fields said, holding up a hand. “As I said, Mr Thomas hasn’t made any such complaint. But we will keep you informed of any developments.” He stood up and put his notebook back into his pocket, the movement an indication to Sam that he was done. “Look, Mr Reed, if you want my advice, maybe an apology and a six pack wouldn’t be the worst idea you’ve ever had. I’ll see myself out.”

 

Kids DO the darndest things....

What do you see when you look at this photograph? I see a cheeky monster... most of us have got one... right? How many times do we listen to the things they say and shake our heads in amazement, or indeed just laugh our socks off... even when they were being serious? But what about the things they DO? Some not always pleasant. Some that make us stare at them open-mouthed and silent in bizarre fascination because there are know words to speak.... except for one word echoing around your head...WHY????????????

The thing that prompted me to write this post is... quite simply... the fact that my son dropped his chewing gum and the dog picked it up before he could get to it. A normal person would, of course, have wrestled the gum from the dog, then put it in the bin. But not this Momma's pride and joy... hell no... He took it back and put it in his own mouth without washing it!!!!!  WHY????????????????

I've told him what's right and wrong. Instilled some form of ettiquette in him and his sister, i.e. don't pick your nose in front of people. If you must do it, it's a bit like masturbation, it should be done in the privacy of your own bedroom. Taught them that there are things you just don't do! So why am I still staring at him totally gobsmacked because there are no words? It's as bad as the time he licked the bottom of his shoe, when he was 4. I said the same thing then... WHY????? Was he checking the brown stuff wasn't chocolate? Had he hidden a sweet there for later? Just.... WHY???????

When he was little if he got so much as a speck of dirt on his hand he'd be screaming for a wet wipe and now he's eating dog-gum.... where did I go wrong?

Please tell me I'm not alone in this fellow bloggers.... what have your disgusting little toads done that makes you squirm and want to leave them on the steps of the nearest church in a cardboard box?

Don't be shy.... join me in the ickiness...

Sunday... Sunday.... with Sue Brown

Sunday, Sunday…

At the moment I am digging out my garden. Actually that isn’t true. At the moment I am typing this out and doing my best to avoid digging my garden. It is easy to think of a good reason. It’s raining cats and dogs out there and I ain’t that keen on being outside at the best of times.

So I need to sit down and write. I can do this. I am author, see me write… in a minute, after I had a cup of coffee.

Coffee in hand, I am ready. “No son, I don’t know where the batteries are. You’ve used an entire pack and not told me that they’ve run out. And that’s my fault for some reason? Of course it is.”

Coffee swallowed in an effort not to yell. Make a fresh coffee. Fingers poised at the keyboard and… “Please kids, do I have to listen to that imbecilic kids’ programme again. Good grief, I could quote the bloody script.”

I can do this. I type a few words.

“Inside their room Zeke looked hopefully at Ray. “Make love to me?””

*sigh* My surly cowboy has turned into a twink. My boys should be having hot, sweaty monkey sex around the motel room, not making tender love. Wrong book. Cut and paste that into the spare sex scenes file.

Try again. Stare at screen, mutter something very rude, and wander off in search of more munchies.

I need a break, I think. I’ll go and have a read of a book that I am reviewing. Now this can go one of two ways. Either I get so involved in the book that I forget about the writing, or I end up screeching at the book.

Nope, I get distracted by the warning. I… no… you really don’t need to know what I think of this warning. It’s for my blog. Failed to write the review.

So what should I do? I could tidy up. Hahahahahahaha. Next.

So here I am, folks. I can’t concentrate enough to write, it’s raining cats and dogs so I can’t tackle the garden, I can’t concentrate enough to read. Things are desperate.

That’s it! I’m shutting down the laptop and the dog and I are going for a walk. He looks interested and positively ecstatic when he sees me putting on my shoes. Until we get to the front door. You see my dog doesn’t like rain. He would rather hide under a bush – I have the scratches to prove it – than walk in the rain.

In the end I give up. I’m going to snooze. Wake me up when it’s Monday.

Author Bio: Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn't following their orders, she can be found plotting at her laptop. In fact she hides so she can plot and has got expert at ignoring the orders.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she's made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

She can be found at her website, her Facebook, and twitter.

The Isle of… Where?

Buylink: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3053

Blurb: When Liam Marshall’s best friend, Alex, loses his fight with colon cancer, he leaves Liam one final request: buy a ticket to Ryde, on the Isle of Wight, and scatter Alex’s ashes off the pier. Liam is tired, worn out, and in desperate need of a vacation, but instead of sun, sea, sand, and hot cabana boys, he gets a rickety old train, revolting kids, and no Ewan MacGregor.

Liam would have done anything for his friend, but fulfilling Alex’s final wish means letting go of the only family Liam had left. Lost, he freezes on the pier… until Sam Owens comes to his rescue.

Sam’s family has vacationed on the Isle of Wight every year for as long as he can remember, but he’s never met anyone like Liam. Determined to make Liam’s vacation one to remember, Sam looks after him—in and out of the bedroom. He even introduces Liam to his entire family. But as Sam helps Liam let go, he’s forced to admit that he wants Liam to hang on—not to his old life, but to Sam and what they have together.

Excerpt: The beach was empty, miles of golden sand laid out for them to dig up. It was also freezing, and Liam shivered. It hadn’t occurred to him to bring a jacket, and the wind whipping off the sparkling waves sucked any heat from the sun.

“You’re shivering,” Sam said unnecessarily. “Here.” He slipped off the hoodie he was wearing, holding it out so that Liam could slip it over his head.

“Then you’ll get cold,” Liam pointed out.

“Put it on,” Sam insisted.

Giving in, because he was fucking freezing, Liam tugged on the soft gray hoodie. It drowned him a little, but it was warm and Liam didn’t care. He cared even less when he looked up and saw the open lust in Sam’s eyes.

“You like me wearing your clothes, huh?”

Sam swallowed and Liam had the feeling that if they weren’t in the open, Sam would have jumped him. As it was, he got up close, too close.

“I wanna fuck you wearing that hoodie and nothing else,” Sam whispered in Liam’s ear, his hot breath ghosting over Sam’s neck. There was no need to whisper, no one was in earshot, but it was hot as hell, and Liam couldn’t help the hitch of breath or the moan that escaped him. But because Sam was talking about fucking, Liam had to retort.

“Just remember, I do the fucking.”

“If you wear this hoodie and your arse is bare, I don’t care who fucks who.”

Liam swallowed hard. Sam chuckled and brushed a quick kiss over his lips.

“Sandcastles.”

“Huh?” Liam was soaking up the way Sam filled his senses. Words took a while longer to process.

To his regret, Sam took a step back. “Sandcastles,” he repeated. “Otherwise things could get interesting out here, and much as people like me, I don’t think they’d forgive a display of bare-arsed man-loving in a hurry.”

Sadly, Sam was probably right, and Liam had to postpone the thought of throwing Sam down on the sand for another time. It didn’t occur to him until much later that he was already planning to spend more time with Sam.

Sam jogged back to Molly and picked up the kids’ buckets and spades from the pea-sized trunk. Liam had been firmly corrected and told it was the boot. Whatever. It was still miniscule.

He handed Liam the purple spade and the orange bucket, keeping rainbow ones for himself. When Liam protested, Sam just gave him a look.

“You got my hoodie. Now stop complaining.”

RELEASE DATE - 4 AUGUST 2012 - GOING UNDER

 

Evan Griffin moved into his remote country house with all the excitement and promise of a new start. He thought he'd found it until the strange noises began… When the attacks became physical, he was left bruised and battered and desperate for help.

When Evan walks into the offices of paranormal investigators, Knight & Stone, Ross Stone is dumbfounded by the injuries the man bears. Injuries Evan insists were caused by an unseen assailant in his own home. Something in the man's eyes tugs at Ross's heartstrings. Does he dare risk getting close to Evan when he is fighting his own demons?

Excerpt:

Prologue

Pulling open the curtains to let in the morning light, Evan Griffin gazed out the glass pane at the rolling hills that surrounded his house on every side. His house. It sounded good in his head; new house and new beginning. Surveying the beautiful countryside that the large farmhouse was sitting smack dab in the middle of, he wondered how he could be anything but happy here. It was perfect—almost. But he wouldn't think about Mack now—couldn't. If he let himself walk that road, he'd end up in a useless heap on the floor and those boxes wouldn't unpack themselves.

Lost in his thoughts he opened the first box and began to sort through the linen he found there. Halfway to the linen closet, he was stopped in his tracks by a loud bang. "Fuck," he hissed, dropping the curtain and padding onto the floor. He listened intently for a moment and, hearing nothing, he bent to pick up the items he'd dropped. Then he heard it again, coming from the bathroom. Swallowing, an uneasy feeling unfurling in his belly, he opened the bathroom door and looked around the room. Everything seemed in place. His toiletries were on the shelf in a large shoebox and the stack of towels he'd unpacked yesterday were still sitting in the bone dry tub.

The tub was one of the things that had attracted Evan to the property. It was huge and at six-one in his bare feet, a tub that he could actually stretch out in was something of a novelty. It sat in the middle of the room on claw feet with old-fashioned steel faucets and the head end higher than the foot end, like something you would see in a Victorian lady's boudoir. The white porcelain was cracked a little with age and he would have to repaint the underside with some specialized paint, but he didn't care. The proportions of the room and the grandeur of the fittings, albeit a little worn, were what had clinched the deal.

Slam!

"Jesus Christ," he spat, spinning around to find the bathroom door shutting him off from the rest of the house. His heart pounded in his chest when there was another crash and he spun around to see the large casement window at the end of the room banging in the wind. "For fuck's sake, Griffin," he admonished himself, walking over to the window, pulling it shut, and securely latching it. "It's an old house. The window was open which made the first slam and then the centrifugal force created by the window and the door being open caused the second."

He stopped in front of the mirror he had hung above the basin the day before and ran his hands through his shaggy hair, scratching his scalp with blunt nails. "If you're going to think that every knock, creak, and bang is something sinister, you might as well pack up and go back to the city right now." He shook his head at his reflection before turning on his heel and crossing the room to open the door. "And stop talking to yourself," he added with a smile, firmly closing the door behind him and heading back to the bedroom to get dressed.

* * * *

"You think moving houses can get rid of me, Evan?" She watched from her seat on the deep window sill as the man moved around the bedroom. "You always were stupid." Her hands clenched into fists as the rage bubbled inside her. Narrowing her gaze she smiled in satisfaction as Evan rubbed his hands together to warm them. "What's wrong, Evan? Cold?" She lifted her hands and gripped at the wet strands of her hair and hissed through her teeth. "Not as cold as me! But you will be… you will be. I'm not going anywhere until you and everyone you love has paid for what you did."

 

 AVAILABLE 4 AUGUST 2012 FROM SILVER PUBLISHING

THE SWIM DIARY OF A TERRIFIED MOTHER....

This is the first week of the Summer holidays... I know... torture... school should be all year round! Anyhoo... I paid for both Gracie and Alex to take a crash course in swimming this week. It was really reasonably priced and neither can swim so you can imagine the excitement!

I am not usually what you'd call a nervous mother... I'm very much of the opinion, if it's not bleeding or hanging off, give a quick rub and get on with it. Railway stations and water, however, freak me the chuff out. Unfortunately I only found out about the water thing this week... and I think it's because they've never been in a swimming pool without me before, so I had a total lack of control over my children's destiny...

Monday

We arrived at the pool in good time, which was quite impressive because they asked me so many times... "Are we there yet"... that I nearly headed to the pier to drive off!

In the changing rooms was the first pallava!
Alex had refused to put his swimming shorts on before we left, so had to get changed there. Relatively easy you might think. Oh, dear God. I nearly shoved the shorts on his head and sent him out like that! The positioning of the towel was wrong, he got tangled up in his shoes which he wouldn't take off until last thing... I could go on.

Finally, in the pool.

Gracie was a little wary, which was odd because she's my fearless one. But that was okay because she didn't let go of the side, or either of the women guiding them across the pool.

Alex... decided he was a cross between Michael Phelps and the bloody Man from Atlantis! I don't think my heart has stopped so many times in one sitting! In the end, I was so stressed that all I wanted was a dark room to lie down in!

Tuesday
The journey and the getting Alex into his swim shorts was pretty much the same as Monday (gawd help me!)

Once in the water, the first thing they all did was join hands and sing Ring a Roses, but instead of snotting all over each other, they "all blow bubbles", which they're supposed to put their mouths under the water and blow it away. Gracie... bless... was more than happy to blow the water, from about four foot above it (shakes head). Alex thought blowing the water meant inhaling half the bloody pool and had to be dragged to the side coughing and spluttering!

Today's lesson was swimming backwards and floating. They did really well, Gracie still hanging on for dear life and kicking as though she were in a cage fight! Alex used his arms a lot which earned him praise and the reduction of his armbands to two on each arm (these floaty things) to one on each arm :)

Wednesday
Today we got there with time to spare and they sat on the side of the pool watching the earlier class, which was fun because they were obviously more advanced and Alex's eyes nearly popped out of his head when one of the girls swam a width almost under water.  I, of course, was thinking... Don't you bloody dare as I could see the cogs turning and smell the burning from where I was in the gallery.

Gracie limped along the poolside and sat down very gingerly on the side after the splinter debacle of last night. She'd decided she would go in, even though there was obviously a possibility that her foot would drop off on contact with the water. Luckily it didn't. More Ring a Roses, front crawl and back crawl with a huge grinning face staring at me every time she reached the side.

Alex obviously decided before we got there that he was going to have a real attempt at killing me. Apparently missing a beat wasn't good enough for him anymore, he wanted me to actually keel over completely. Ducking under the water while there was no one to supervise him at the end where he was, not holding on to the side, trying to swim by himself and encouraging Gracie to go under as well. Those goggles were a bad idea!

Mind you... by the time they got out... Alex had swum practically an entire width by himself wearing armbands, and Gracie had actually plucked up the courage to jump in with assistance at the end of the lesson :)

And me... I put a cold compress on my forehead and had a lie down when we got home!

Stay tuned for Thursday :)  

SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY

Good morning.... this week's six comes from one of my current WIP's... I Can See For Miles....

To set you up... Josh has been taken to Camp Aisling, a camp for the blind, by his friends Mario and Greg. Stepping into the office... he hears the voice of Charlie Sayward... the founder of the camp....

“Maggie!”

Josh tilted his head toward the sound of the voice.  He felt something warm unfurl in his belly as he let the tone and timbre wash over him.  Josh had always thought that it was an old wives tale, you know, that old saying that when you lost one of your senses, the others became heightened to compensate – but it was true.  Scents, the way something felt beneath your fingertips, how things tasted had all changed and sounds...they had seemed to develop a description all their own and the voice he had just heard?  That voice sounded like the slow burn of whiskey rolling across your tongue and sliding down your throat before the warmth of it settled in your stomach and expanded in your chest.

DON'T FORGET TO CHECK OUT THE OTHER SIXES OVER AT SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY