I had the good
fortune to sit down with Laura Harner this month. I almost feel silly listing
all the amazing things this author has done because I’m sure most of you have
already heard of her…but hey, I do silly well I’m told. :)
Ms. Harner has a
wealth of accomplishments under her belt already, and has no plans to slow down
any…aside from being a best-selling author, she is also a gifted cover artist
and savvy behind-the-scenes player. By that I mean she’s a highly sought after
beta & proofreader plus she can format a book like no one’s business.
Multi-talented doesn’t begin to describe Laura’s skills.
And no…I’m not
swooning over her because I’m personally infatuated with her beauty and brains…but
this is my blog and I can mush when I want, right? lmao
When I was able
to take a few moments with Laura she was packing for the RT Convention in
Dallas. Boxes were all over with the books she ordered for the convention,
clothes were hanging from different places waiting to be packed, and Laura’s
assistants were scurrying to and fro doing everything their way.
 |
| Tucker |
Havan: So,
I see you have two very active assistants at your beck and call. Would you like
to tell us about them?
Laura: Oh
yes…this little man is Tucker. His job is to open and close all the boxes while
I’m trying to unpack them. He also stays close to my heels, following me from
room to room to make sure I never get lost and if my fingers ever tire he is
quick to take over my typing duties.
 |
| Izzie |
As I watched the
kitties organize all of Laura’s books with their absolutely scrumptious book
covers I expressed my appreciation for the titles. Laura does have a knack for
catchy book titles.
Havan: How
do you come up with your titles, especially with your WSR series?
Laura: I
actually saw the Ty Hard cover picture taken by Dan Skinner on the Deviant Art
website and approached Dan about it. That one picture inspired the whole WSR
series.
Of course Ty Hard was a play on words of Ty’s full
name, and so the series began. All the titles actually came to me before the
plots and books did. It was almost like a name would pop into my head and I’d
have to grab a notepad or something and write it down, and it screamed WSR to
me.
 |
| Buzz, Izzie, Tucker |
Laura’s assistants
took a quick break and joined their buddy Buzz while enjoying the breezy day.
Secure in the
knowledge that Laura was in very capable hands I took this opportunity to spend
a few moments with two sexy Seals, Snides and Rhino…and let me tell you *fans
face and swoons* yeah, that…
Blurb:
Navy SEALs Cliff
“Snides” Snyder and Ryan “Rhino” Matthews have been moving comfortably in each
other’s worlds for two decades. Best friends since attending BUDs twenty years
earlier, and despite playing for different teams, they’re often accused of
acting like an old married couple—much to their amusement.
Assigned to shore
duty for his final tour before retirement and without Ryan to anchor him,
Cliff’s restlessness leads him to a local club and hands-on research that
leaves him in a compromising position and a witness to murder—signaling the
abrupt end of his Navy career. Needing a place to lay low and lick his wounds,
Cliff visits his old friends at the Willow Springs Ranch while he considers
making cowboy his new job title.
After six long
months on deployment, Rhino returns to San Diego—only to discover Cliff’s gone
dark and the unlikely words ‘poor judgment’ are hanging in the air. Despite the
offer of a prestigious assignment, Ryan opts to track down his best friend
first and finds him at the WSR…along with more questions than he ever expected.
With the most coveted orders for a SEAL dangling, twenty years of service under
his belt, and Cliff determined to move on without him, decisions must be made.
Ryan is certain
he has the perfect solution going forward, but Cliff knows he must face the
fallout of his actions alone—and the one thing he’s determined to do is protect
Ryan from making the biggest mistake of his career—even if it costs Cliff
everything. You know what they say—the only easy day was yesterday.
Pages or Words: 38,000 words
Categories: Bisexual,
Contemporary, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Mystery, Western/Cowboy, Military
Excerpt:
Cliff stumbled a
little in the dark of his bedroom, reluctant to turn on the lights and ruin his
night vision. It had been a long while since he’d had so much to drink—or felt
so relaxed. There was definitely something to be said about being on the WSR, away
from anyone who might know him or what he did for a living.
In their careers,
it was conceivable they could be targeted for one of their field actions or
just by virtue of being Navy SEALs. Just like the cops who’d enjoyed harassing
him once they’d discovered his profession. Some people needed to try to knock
down others to feel good about themselves. But here? He and Ryan were just a
couple more guys.
He stripped to
his boxers and tossed his jeans onto the chair before pulling back the covers
on the king-sized bed. A shudder raced up his spine, and for just a moment, he
remembered the frustration and helplessness of the situation when he’d been
trapped on the other bed…listening to those fucking punks. His stomach clenched
at the thought of Gentry and Draco. Their bodies had been removed by the time
the cops saw fit to release him from the alcove, but he’d never forget
listening to their last moments or the blood that soaked the floor when he’d
been led through the office to the stairs. Ryan would eventually ask for
details about how they died—especially Draco, since they’d been friends—but
they’d both learned to compartmentalize death a long time ago.
That didn’t mean
they weren’t affected by loss, but there was a time and a place to mourn, to
say good-bye, and it wasn’t while the battle raged. Despite several warnings
from the DA and lead investigator, Cliff would like nothing more than to hunt
down those gangbangers and make them pay…and Ryan would be more than happy to
help. He recognized the danger in those thoughts, as well.
Blowing out a
breath at the loss of his mellow mood of a few minutes ago, Cliff moved
silently on bare feet to open the bedroom door and listened. The quiet murmur
of television voices from behind Ryan’s door would mask any noise he might
make. Hell, Rhino was probably passed out on his bed already.
Cliff padded to
the refrigerator, considered then dismissed the idea of another beer. He had a
long drive ahead of him in the morning. Grabbing a bottle of water instead, he
drank half down in one long pull.
Turning, he found
Ryan standing near the counter, watching him. With the moonlight streaming in
through the window providing the only illumination, his friend’s face was
difficult to read, but his naked body was a little hard to miss.
“Want some?”
Cliff held the bottle of water in Ryan’s direction.
With a nod, Ryan
took the bottle and finished it off. With a perfect aim, even in the near total
darkness, he tossed the empty into the wastebasket. “And the crowd goes wild.”
“Idiot,” Cliff
said, opening the fridge for two more bottles of water. Once again passing a
bottle to Ryan, he started to head back to the bedroom. Ryan’s hand on his arm
stopped him.
“I…uh…had a good
time tonight.” Ryan’s words weren’t slurred, but there was a lazy cadence
beneath the stilted delivery that spoke of too much tequila.
“Yeah, me too. Ty
and Cass are good folk. They’ve made this place a good home for a lot of guys
who needed a fresh start.”
Cliff laughed
softly at Ryan’s concern for his love life. “Yeah…sorry about that. I didn’t
even think about how you might have felt…surrounded by all those guys.” He
studied Ryan’s face. “You weren’t offended, right? I mean you’ve been to gay
clubs with me and it’s never bothered you…”
“Offended?
Nah…why would I be? You never were offended at the straight clubs, right?” His
hand tightened on Cliff’s forearm, and he seemed to weave a little on his feet.
“Hey, Rhino, come
on. You need to get some sleep—”
“Are we having a
bromance?” Ryan blurted.
“A bromance?”
Cliff laughed, and Ryan’s eyes narrowed. Oh boy, never laugh at a drunk who
thinks he’s making an important point.
“Yeah, a
bromance. Where two guys hang out all the time, like the same shit, would
probably fuck each other if they were both gay—or if one of them was female.”
Fighting off more
laughter, Cliff nodded. “Sure, you can call it that. Come on, princess, let’s
get you to bed.”
Ryan didn’t yield
when Cliff tried to pull his arm free in order to lead him toward the bedrooms.
“What do you think? Should I take the orders?”
“What, are you
nuts? You’ve been waiting for those orders your whole career.”
“Yeah, that’s the
problem…my whole career.”
“What the hell
does that mean?”
“You’re not the
only one eligible to retire. Just because you had two years prior service in
the Marines before you joined the Navy, you’ve got more time in service than
me, but yeah…it’s been twenty years this month. I don’t know if I want one more
tour. That’s another four or five years, in order to retire at the new pay
grade I’d no doubt pick up in the next year or two.
“True, but it’s
also more money when you do retire. And, Rhino…it’s Six.” He referred to the DEVGRU unit by their unofficial name,
hoping to jar a little sense into his friend.
Squeezing his arm
a little, Ryan leaned in, as if imparting a great secret. “You should be
there.”
Cliff shook his
head. “That’s done. We don’t even need to think about it. I just gotta figure
what I want to do next.”
“See,
Snides…that’s the thing. If I have to wait another four or five years before I
retire and you move on, you’re going to get too fucking far ahead. I don’t like
that. ’Sides, that’d mean no more football or watching NCIS. You’d get to see all the episodes of So You Think You Can Dance without me telling you how gay that is.”
“Ha, now I know
you’re drunk. We only watch that because you like the women’s skimpy outfits.
You probably need to quit hanging out with me and spend the next six months of
your training cycle finding the right little woman and getting laid on a
regular basis. Hell, get a wife! Then you’ll be all set for retirement when
you’re done with the next tour. She can cook your sorry ass dinner, wash your
clothes… Yep…you need a wife.”
“Fuck that shit.
I’d sooner fuck you than ever get married again. In fact—”
Time seemed to
stop, as if they both needed a moment to absorb the truth of those words.
“Careful what you
wish for, Ryan,” Cliff said, his voice a ragged whisper. His cock went rock
hard, ignoring every warning he could throw out that this wasn’t going to happen.
Ryan was drunk, and they both were horny, but this was a line neither of them
needed to cross. Too much was at stake for a little temporary relief. Guilt and
regret could kill a friendship.
Even as all the
reasons they needed to walk away raced through his mind, the moment stretched.
For once Cliff had no idea what Ryan was thinking. Cliff started to pull his
arm away again. Rhino shifted his grip and guided their joined hands to brush
over Ryan’s hard cock.
“Not going here
with you, Ry. Not worth a friendship.”
“Won’t cost
anything. You weren’t wrong to try it, you know.”
“Try? What are
you—”
Ryan’s hand
closed around Cliff’s erection. “To try a little bondage. To let someone else
take control.”
Cliff jerked his
hips to free his cock. “Is that what you think? That I enjoyed lying there
while—”
“Don’t be stupid,
Cliff. Of course not—not that night—not there. But here? Oh yeah…suck my cock,
baby. Come on, we both want this tonight.”
Ryan didn’t know
what the fuck he was talking about. Sure Cliff had been at Draco’s to find out
more about the lifestyle. Ryan above everyone should know that even though they
played on different teams, they were both dominant men, both used to being in
absolute control. He had to make Ryan shut up, to stop this foolishness before
he said things they’d both regret come morning.
Twisting roughly
away, he body slammed Ryan against the wall. A small smile lingered over the
other man’s mouth, and Cliff bent in, not to taste it, and definitely not to
feel those familiar lips pressed against his…but to wipe away the knowing,
mocking smile.
Their mouths
crashed together, a fusion of teeth and tongues, of malty beer and tart
tequila, and an underlying touch of cinnamon. With his hands pressed to the
wall on either side of Ryan’s head, Cliff leaned down, taking advantage of
their height difference. Ryan’s face tilted up, his hands sliding over Cliff’s
bare chest to pinch his nipples.
Ahhh…he wanted to
shout. Fire raced through his nerves as the little buds burned and the heat
streaked straight to his cock and tightened his balls. Ryan took advantage of
Cliff’s momentary distraction and snaked an arm up, his fingers twisting in
Cliff’s hair and holding him tight while he plundered Cliff’s mouth. With his
pulse thundering erratically, he lost himself in Ryan's kiss. Closing his eyes,
he leaned into Ryan, their hips brushed together and a hard cock pressed
against his. Ryan’s tongue slid over Cliff’s, teased the roof of his mouth,
teeth scraping over lips. Cliff moaned as desire built.
Ryan gave another
hard tweak to his nip then scraped his nails through Cliff’s chest hair and up
to his shoulder to apply a not-so-subtle downward pressure. Using his hair like
a handle, he pulled Cliff’s head back from the kiss.
“Now, Cliff,
baby. I want you on your knees.” He released Cliff’s hair and started pressing
down. “You’ve always said no one can give a better blow job than another
man…show me.”
They were almost
the same height, just a couple of inches separating them, but right now, the
way Rhino looked at him, pushed at him to drop to his knees and bend to his
will, was fucking sexy. The two of them had been friends for twenty years, yet
this was a road they’d never even remotely discussed traveling together.
A distant part of
his mind sensed the danger, worried their friendship wouldn’t survive the
morning light if he capitulated, but damn… Cliff had never seen Ryan like this.
Commanding bordering on arrogant? Sure—but never aimed in his direction. It had
always been the two of them together…going through training, facing battle,
taking out bad guys. Either of them could quell the arguments of others with a
look. When they walked into a room of civilians, people stared. They’d both
been told their confidence was sexy…
Why was Cliff
only seeing this side of Ryan now? Was it all drink? That made no sense—they’d
been drunk together plenty of times. Seen each other naked a thousand times.
Hell—they’d seen each other hard, too. He could recall quite clearly the
apartment they’d shared fresh out of BUDs and—and the night Rhino had
overlooked the lanyard hanging on Cliff’s door and stumbled in to catch sight
of Cliff’s dick shoved down some guy’s throat. Ryan had teased him for weeks
before Cliff finally told him guys really knew what another man wanted. The
sonofabitch was using his own words against him.
The horny ass had
just come off mission and probably needed to get off and didn’t care who sucked
him. Or was there something more?
For fuck’s sake. I can’t just stand here all night
thinking about it.
Ryan’s eyelids
were heavy, almost lazy as he blinked up at him, and his mouth curved up on one
side, as if he’d been following Cliff’s jumbled thoughts. He pressed down once
again, and this time, Cliff followed the silent direction and dropped to his
knees, ignoring the sexy as sin moan of satisfaction from Ryan when he thought
he’d won.
There was nothing
subtle about the way he drew the tip of Ryan’s cock into his mouth. He wrapped
his lips around the fat, leaking tip and got his first salty taste as he sucked
hard…almost too hard.
Ryan dragged in a
breath, then grabbed Cliff’s hair, holding him in place for a long minute.
Finally, he placed his palms on Cliff’s cheeks and tilted his face, a silent
command to look up. When he did, Cliff inhaled sharply at the hungry, almost
possessive look.
Ryan’s eyes
narrowed as he traced his thumbs over Cliff’s mouth, his lips stretched around
the heavy swollen cock. “That’s not the way this is going to go, Cliff. This
isn’t a race, and nobody’s being punished. Show me you want this, baby…”
Fuck. If Ryan
called him baby one more time with that little growl in his voice, Cliff might
just fucking shoot right here and now.
Closing his eyes
in order to break whatever spell Ryan wove over the two of them, Cliff slowly
started to move, savoring the taste and feel of Ryan’s shaft before pulling off
with a wet pop. He buried his face between Ryan’s legs, forcing him to widen
his stance. He pressed against the coarse hair at Ryan’s groin with his
fingers, thumbs behind his balls, creating a perfect frame with his hands.
Nuzzling in for a moment, he captured the unique smell of Ryan, breathing
deeply, memorizing. Drawing his sac forward, Cliff dragged his tongue over the
sensitive skin, following the wrinkles and ridges, using the pattern of Ryan’s
ragged breathing to guide his movements. He pulled one of the orbs gently into
his mouth and sucked, enjoying the way Ryan moaned for him. Cliff repeated the
process then took the whole sac into his mouth, his cheeks stretched to their limits,
tongue separating the fragile balls, massaging, teasing.
Ryan’s knees
wobbled a little when Cliff released his sac to move back up his cock, laving,
stroking.
“That’s it…good.
So good,” Ryan murmured, his voice like black velvet.
A thrill of
excitement swirled low in Cliff’s belly at Ryan’s tone. Nothing in his life
could have prepared him for this—the forbidden thrill of taking his best friend
in his mouth, making him weak with need. He moved his mouth faster, licking up
drops of pre-cum with his own moan of pleasure.
Ryan’s big hand
wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him forward, encouraging him to
take more, pushing his hips forward in time to Cliff’s sucking. His heart
thundered uncontrollably as Ryan continued to encourage him with “Yeah, baby”
and “So good.”
The dialogue
would have sounded cheesy in a porn video, but the endearments seemed to go
right to Cliff’s dick. He worked a hand inside his boxers, stroking himself as
he continued to suck and lick Ryan. His gaze traveled up Ryan’s hard body,
caressing each curve and swell of the chiseled pecs and tight abs. He knew the
brutal workouts that put each of those muscles in place. For years they’d
worked side by side as they sweated and pushed each other, dragged each other
through sand and water. They’d held each other and cried when they’d lost their
first teammate. And the second…
They’d stared
into each other’s eyes, and with no need to speak their thoughts aloud, had
shared both agony and exhilaration. Now, he was here, on his knees, and taking
his best friend somewhere he’d never been before—and dear lord, don’t let it be
something that would cost them both.
“Stay right here,
Cliff—focus on me,” Ryan said. The hand in his hair tightened, then he was held
in place as Ryan pushed deeper, cutting off Cliff’s breath for half a
second—just long enough to let him know who was in control of this blow job.
“Just like that,
Cliff. Going to do it again—”
Cliff’s throat
spasmed around the thick cock as Ryan repeated the move, holding him in place
longer, his prick deeper than the last time.
“So good, baby.
Don’t stop,” Ryan ordered.
Wrapping one hand
around Ryan’s ass, Cliff took him again, pulling Ryan forward, groaning as the
fist in his hair tightened, holding him captive until his eyes stung with the
need to breathe.
“One more time,”
Ryan said, only giving Cliff a moment to suck in another breath. He shoved his
cock deep, his legs trembling with the effort it took to remain upright, even
propped against the wall.
When he released
Cliff this time, he could have sworn Ryan whispered, “Good boy,” which given he
was both older and bigger, made no sense. Bobbing his mouth more quickly now, a
raw noise ripped from his throat as Ryan pistoned into his mouth. Cliff’s fist
flew over his own cock as he dug his fingers into the fleshy globe of Ryan’s
ass, encouraging him to go faster, pound harder.
The muscles
beneath his fingers grew impossibly tight as Ryan lost his rhythm and his
breath rushed out in a harsh grunt. Hot cum coated his tongue and spurted down
his throat, the first shot all it took to trigger his own release. They
finished on gasping moans of mutual pleasure.
“Fuck, yeah,”
Ryan sighed. He looped his hands under Cliff’s pits and dragged him up into a
quick, hard kiss. He stroked Cliff’s dick through his wet boxers, as if he’d
actually intended to do anything about it. When he found evidence of Cliff’s
release, he gave a light squeeze.
“Hmm…we might
need to work on your control next time.” There was a hint of laughter in his
voice, and Cliff was painfully reminded of just how much Ryan had to drink
earlier.
There wasn’t a
chance in hell his best friend would forget what they’d just done, but there
was very little room for doubt how this would play out. This was the beginning
of the end of a friendship that meant more than any quick blow job. No fuck was
worth the price he’d just paid. Cliff twisted away, mumbled a quick good night,
then retreated to his room. The lock made a satisfying click as it turned.
Sales Links:
About our Lovely Laura:
Laura lives on waterfront property in
Arizona because she's always wanted to be an oxymoron. She once enjoyed hobbies
such as gardening and travel—now the characters in her head compel her to tell
their stories, so she writes. (It doesn't actually help quiet the voices—but it
keeps the folks in the white jackets at bay.)
She shares her home with an
ever-revolving cast of characters—some of whom are actually real—and is living
her dream of building her own version of the Willow Springs Ranch.
With nearly sixty published novels and
novellas, Laura is an international bestselling author of erotic romances,
romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and Highland romances. Her books can be found
at all major online retailers.
Stalk her here:
Publisher: Hot Corner Press
Cover Artist: Laura Harner
Cover Picture: D.W. Skinner
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Thanks for visiting with us, Havan!
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