Under the Gun marks the end of another Pulp Friction series #mustread #newrelease

Okay – I completely suck…I always forget to blog about my new releases *hangs head*

So the beginning of the month I released my Under the Gun—final book in my Pulp Friction 2015 Altered Stated edition. It was an emotional journey for me. I fell in love with Laurant and Gun. Each book they surprised me, I was very much on the roller coaster with the readers in a sense. And this last book ratcheted up the sexy, the danger, and the multitude of relationships that make Pulp Friction the great legacy that it is.

Thank you Laurant and Gun for allowing me to tell your story… <3

Blurb

In a world where supernatural creatures openly exist, who can blame them for coalescing in one of the most fascinating and erotic places on earth? Welcome to New Orleans.

A sex demon no longer interested in feeding just for the necessity of it.

Laurant is secure enough in his demonhood to admit to the few flaws he has, such as mouthing off to the wrong people and ignoring warnings from his dear old dad…but he isn’t quite ready to fess-up to his latest self-revelation. He doesn’t want to feed from any other person or supernatural but the mystery man who is no longer a mystery. Unfortunately, it seems there are other people who want Gun for themselves, and Laurant might not be strong enough to keep him.

They say you can never go home…what they didn’t mention was that trying might be the death of you…

Gun finally knows who and what he is…now he needs to find out why. He’s been commuting between New Orleans and his hometown in Maine for the past couple of months in search of answers, and all he’s found out is that half the population is afraid of him and the other half wants him dead. He longs for the simpler times in life when all he had to worry about was beating off an incubus’s advances and who had the king of hearts to complete his flush. Now he’s fighting against human police and supernatural creatures alike…and the winner takes all.

Gun needs to come to terms with who he was to figure out who he is. Laurant needs to decide if he will stand beside whichever Gun prevails.

May the real Gun please stand up.

Excerpt

“You just left them there. You got up from the table and just walked away from them.” Laurant sat on the vanity, left foot propped up, bending his knee, idly rubbing his inner thigh as Gun toweled off from the shower they’d just shared.

“Yes, we did.” Gun agreed, wrapping the towel around his hips while eyeing his lover’s cock. He knew by now that Laurant’s erection never completely went away, but it still mystified him that two orgasms in the shower couldn’t deflate it some. Since the incubus hadn’t fed in the past week, a power surge couldn’t be responsible for his constant state of arousal.

Unfortunately arousal never stopped the demon from talking. “Don’t you clump me in with this. I’m not the mastermind of evil as you appear to be. But they knew something. To leave without finding out what was stupid.”

“No. I’m quite certain I’ve done many stupid things in my life, however long that is.” He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he aged as a human or slower as some magickally inclined supes did. The fact he knew nothing about mages really unsettled him and raised his ire even more. “But I’m even more certain leaving them as is for the moment will not present itself on that list.”

Laurant disappeared from the counter, appearing across the bedroom naked. “You aren’t even talking like yourself anymore.” He opened the bureau drawer and rifled through the clothes.

All the emotions Gun had bottled up, every single shred of helplessness, rage, annoyance, and fear he’d experienced from the moment he came to stand on the side of Burgundy Street, hit him in the solar plexus. His abdominal muscles clenched with the metaphysical blow. He saw red through the bathroom door and across the room.

“And please tell me, Laurant”—he stressed his lover’s name with a sneer—“how do I talk? Do you even know? Are you comparing today to the day that we met? Was that my normal talk when I had no knowledge of what I was or even my name? Or how about four months ago when I met my “wife”, was that my real talk?” He stalked across the room, his chest expanding with every harsh breath he took as he ground out word by word the fierce thoughts that had haunted him. “Tell me, Laurant, what is the norm for me? Because I’ve been searching for it for over half a year now and I’m no closer to knowing. So if you have information that will help me discover which monster I am—the one that terrorizes people in New England, the one that disintegrates a demon’s chest with my bare hand, or the one that’s consistently fucking a demon—please let me in on the secret. I’d really appreciate that.”

He stood directly in front of Laurant, and even though they only differed in height by a few inches, his bridled fury had him hovering over the slightly smaller man. It didn’t matter that Laurant wasn’t the cause for his anger. All that mattered was his proximity when Gun’s wrath boiled over.

“Deities”—Laurant roughly whispered as he took himself in hand—“right now could you be the one fucking the demon?”

Pulp Friction new release – Blind Hearts #mustread #boyxboy #pulpfriction

That’s right…my next Pulp Friction 2015: Altered States book is out. :)

Available: Amazon ~ ARe ~ Smashwords

Blurb:

In a world where supernatural creatures openly exist, who can blame them for coalescing in one of the most fascinating and erotic places on earth? Welcome to New Orleans.

Emotions are a human flaw, certainly nothing he’s familiar with...

Yet when Laurant looks at his mysterious lover, something happens deep within him. He’s a sex demon who has eyes for only one man. Man? When did he stop referring to his lover as a meal? And when did he turn into a green-eyed demon? Perhaps when family came calling, requesting help. No one wants their lover surrounded by sex demons. If Laurant can’t get a grip on his newly found emotions, humans and supernaturals alike will be in danger.

He lost his one chance of finding out who he is, what he is...

Gun’s been hunting down the witch that pilfered his memories and issued him false ones to no avail. It’s like she disappeared off the face of the earth. Unfortunately, that scenario is quite plausible. It leaves Gun with a major dead end and a mind that is no longer his friend. Memories of a false love with a beautiful woman hinder his present unexplainable need for a certain incubus. But does he truly belong here…with a lover who can’t feel love, a city that isn’t his home, and a ragtag group of poker players that now call him friend? It’s time for Gun to forget the past and create a future for himself. At least the forgetting part is simple.

They both have personal issues to conquer, if they could just stop trying to conquer each other first.

I freaking love Laurant! <3

Pulp Friction 2015

Blind Hearts

King of Hearts book Four

Pulp Friction book Fourteen

Round One:

Drawing Dead ~ Blind Stud ~ The Devil’s Bedpost ~ Diamonds and Dust

Round Two:

Dead Blind ~ Stud Player ~ Up the Ante  ~ Diamond Draw

Round Three:

Dead Button ~ Blind Man’s Bluff ~ Devil’s Playground ~ Diamond Edge

Round Four:

Dead Man’s Hand ~ Blind Hearts ~ High Stakes (9/15) ~ Diamond Flush (10/1)

Excerpt:

Gun stood at the bedroom door of the double-gallery house in the Garden District that he cohabited with a sex demon. The house was understated compared to a lot of the villas around it, which suited Gun fine. He loved the wrought iron work surrounding the galleries much better than the more commonly found white columns.

It hadn’t been his idea to relocate from the Burgundy Street cottage to here. If anything, he could probably claim the decision was forced on him—except he’d accepted the rational argument Jet made and agreed with his logic. Dahlia still posed a danger to Gun, and Laurant by association.

Earlier in the year, Gun had blinked and suddenly stood in the middle of Burgundy Street with no memory of how he got there, where there was, or even who he was. The feeling was unnerving to say the least. Everyone experienced the sensation of waking up and having that split second of pure terror because they couldn’t remember where they were, especially if they fell asleep in a foreign place. But to be fully awake and suddenly you knew absolutely nothing about you or your surroundings—that put terror on a whole different level. He’d assumed he knew everything the second before his mind blacked out, but he couldn’t even testify that he’d been standing in that particular spot the moment the darkness enveloped him.

Luckily—that word used quite loosely—Gun caught the interested eye of one slightly bored and extremely playful sex demon. Unfortunately when questioned about that day, Laurant couldn’t recall if he’d seen Gun there for a while or if the mystery man had just appeared out of nowhere. Nobody in the crowd had gasped or stumbled in surprise, so he and Laurant ventured to think, no, Gun hadn’t just magickly appeared.

But that was the problem with magick…use the right kind and no one would notice him unexpectedly popping in.

When they finally realized that Dahlia was indeed the one who’d completely wiped out Gun’s memory, it was a logical jump to the conclusion that she perhaps possessed an adequate amount of power to send him anywhere she wanted. The thing that perturbed Gun and the others was why she had picked New Orleans. This city easily had one of the highest supernatural populations in the world, and it steadily increased on a monthly basis. If she’d wanted to suppress Gun’s abilities, wouldn’t she have kept him as far from any hotspots as she could? Or was there some connection behind dropping him in the Big Easy?

All of these questions, plus many more, were just pieces in a jigsaw puzzle—possibly many puzzles—that Laurant and his friends were investigating.

So Gun did as Jet instructed and moved to another residence. Not far from the old one either. Jet wasn’t terribly happy—he either wanted them on pack land or out of Louisiana all together—though he didn’t phrase it quite so nicely.

But just like Gun couldn’t argue with the Alpha’s logic, Jet also couldn’t completely ignore Gun’s reasoning either. The population in the New Orleans area was well over a million, and since Laurant’s friend owned the double-gallery house, nothing connected the sex demon to the property. Which, in turn, meant it would be extremely difficult for someone to track Gun to his new location. That, added to the fact that Dahlia had lost all elements of surprise, made staying in the area a seemingly reasonable solution.

In truth, whether the Alpha agreed or not, Gun wouldn’t have left. He’d spent the last two months hunting down every single iota of information he’d uncovered about his mysterious witchy wife…and he would continue doing so until he found her, wrapped his hands around her delicate throat, and squeezed the truth out of her.

She did worse than kill him; she’d stolen who he was and left him with nothing but a hollow shell to survive on. Either she was pure evil…or perhaps he’d been.

Which brought him to another reason he was wary of leaving the city. He missed the Burgundy cottage. No matter how unreasonable it sounded, that cottage was the only place his memory held onto as a home.

Dahlia inserted into his mind a loft located over a simple magic store on Juniper Hill in Castle Rock. But a couple of calls proved that memory as false as the rest of them.

A faint mumbling interrupted his introspection, reminding him why he stood there staring at the heavy oak door.

The murmurs were distorted enough that he couldn’t make out the words, but definitely two distinct voices.

It was a small solace that he hadn’t tipped the scales into madness, that he indeed heard a commotion. Laurant really did have someone in there with him even though he’d entered the room completely alone not fifteen minutes earlier.

Gun unabashedly leaned closer, his ear almost pressed against the wood. He wished he had excellent hearing like the wolf…or vampire…or maybe the ghost and seer did also. He knew from prior experiences that the incubus unquestionably did.

What an enigmatic group of friends—and lover, he angrily curled his lip at the door—he’d obtained since waking up to his now life half a year ago. Many times, he’d fathomed that even if he rid himself of these fake memories implanted in his head, exchanged them for the original ones, he would remain here in New Orleans with these eclectic people. There was a pull to this town that kept him coming back no matter how many times he ventured away during his search for his old life.

He focused again when a female voice cooed through the thick wood. The tenor of her voice brought thoughts of satisfaction to him; she was pleased with whatever had just occurred.

He held no remorse for eavesdropping. Laurant wouldn’t hesitate to overhear someone else’s conversation, and damn sure wouldn’t feel bad about doing it either.

A feminine, overly exuberant giggle filled the brief silence after the moan of pleasure. Another high-pitched burst of happiness overlapped the first. Two women?

Even though Gun didn’t know much about himself, he’d proven more than once that he was a very patient and calm man in the face of most concerns. Except where the incubus was involved.

He twisted the doorknob to no avail. The demon had locked him out of his own bedroom? True, technically it was the only bedroom—well, the only room in the house with a bed. Laurant’s friend hadn’t felt the need to fully furnish the place. Considering their varying schedules, they rarely shared the bedroom, except for the times when they did so under the pretext of feeding.

Did the demon truly need to feed as often as they fucked?

If Laurant needed sustenance—per their deal—Gun would provide it. But also per that very explicit contract they’d bound themselves to, Laurant was not to feed from anyone else—man or woman. That was the arrangement, and Gun would see the sex-crazed demon in hell before he willingly allowed him to break the deal.

Another aspect of their relationship Gun chose not to examine too carefully.

Of course, living in New Orleans among a drastically increasing presence of preternatural beings, hell didn’t carry the same connotation it used to. In fact, some supes and humans alike found the place quite enjoyable.

Fisting his hand, he knocked heavily on the solid door three sharp, well-paced times.

“One second, honey. We’re almost done.”

Laurant’s singsong voice grated with the same effect as nails down a chalkboard.

After a couple moments without the door opening, Gun pursed his lips and repeated his three abrupt blows. He could’ve added a verbal command with the action, but refused to be reduced to such a level.

“Coming…”

But the noises emanating from the room betrayed Laurant’s claim. There were no footsteps on the hardwood floors, no metal on metal click of the lock disengaging. What there were were two distinct females twittering as sheets rustled about with a few sporadic thumps interrupting their absurd levels of delight.

Maybe Laurant spoke the truth when he said he was coming.

Gun hesitated between raising his fist again and demanding they open the door.

Laurant interrupted his indecision. “Yes…I’m aware you’re still out there. One more minute, cher.” Could the damn demon see through walls, also?

Annoyance jetted through Gun. How dare the incubus act so blasé. They had an arrangement. Not that Gun cared whom Laurant got his jollies from, but he was to feed from no one but Gun.

The fact that he believed Laurant couldn’t get his jollies without feeding was inconsequential.

A tingling started deep in Gun’s solar plexus. As the intense sensation coursed through his body, it gained in temperature and velocity. He held up his hands facing each other, fingers splayed. All his senses heightened when a crackling of energy transferred between the palms.

“Um…Gun? What are you doing out there?”

The obnoxious noises from the women and bed stopped abruptly.

A blinding light obliterated his sight followed directly by a thundering clap of destruction. Rolling heat massaged his skin as a burning acrid smoke infiltrated his nose.

One of the bedroom occupants screamed sharply, the high-decibel noise tinged more with a surprised tone than fear or alarm.

The brightness that threatened to burn his retinas slowly receded.

After a few clearing blinks, Gun managed to decipher what his eyes were trying to relay to his brain. Laurant stood near his bed, his face probably a duplicate of Gun’s own shock, while two beautiful women lounged on the bed wearing identical expressions.

The women weren’t overtly sensual, both completely clothed, the short red-haired one dressed in gray sweatshorts and a matching tee shirt, the other’s attire was just as simple, black leggings and a man’s crisp, white button-down dress shirt. Her masses of ebony hair falling around her cherubic face in big, loose curls the perfect topper to her unpretentious attire. Even with their simple wardrobe and sans makeup, the women were breathtaking. Gun stared a moment longer than polite company would appreciate.

“Well, that’s going to prove inconvenient if we decide to fuck during poker night…unless exhibitionism is your kink.” Laurant raised his eyebrow at Gun.

The that Laurant referred to was the incinerated bedroom door. To be fair, only part of it burned to a heaping pile of smoking cinders marring the authentic hardwood floors, the remaining portion swung partially off the hinges.

“You plan to host poker on the second floor in a bedroom?” Gun stepped through the destroyed door.

Immediately his cock hardened and his heart rate increased. The artery in the side of his throat throbbed in time with the erection pressing against his zip.

Sex, the room reeked of it…not the smell of sweat and cum, or heat in the air that happens when three mouths gasp for breath in close quarters. Yet Gun fought off the need to rip his trousers from his body and take his penis in hand, to jack it up and down in front of these people until he screamed a release that would explode the windows into shards. That wasn’t enough, though. He wanted—needed more. On his knees, mouth just breaths away from the enticing bulge at Laurant’s crotch. Fuck the buttons and material holding hostage what Gun needed most right then, to suck his sex demon off, to use his mouth and tongue and teeth in order for Laurant to reach completion. Gun needed to drink down the very essence of his lover.

The desires robbed Gun of his energy.

A weakness coursed through his veins, turning his strong, solid legs to a flimsy shell of what they once were. The struggle over his own mind and body shocked him to the core. Is this how Laurant felt when he needed to feed? Gun struck out with his hand, grasping the doorframe for some sort of stability.

The entire experience lasted a split second before Gun composed himself. He allowed his gaze to roam over Laurant’s fully clothed body. He looked exquisitely lethal in his skintight brown leather jeans and orange silk collarless shirt with billowing arms clasped at the wrist. The garment wasn’t an obnoxious bright hue, more like the color of a ripe pumpkin, early for the upcoming autumn season.

Leaning barefooted and loose-limbed against the far wall, Laurant smirked at Gun. “Like what you see, big boy?”

Pulp Friction has landed in NOLA #pulpfriction #mmparanormal

It’s finally here! Pulp Friction 2015 is here and taking place in New Orlean’s…

This year we are doing something a little different and basing PF in the Altered States world…that’s right shifters and ghosts and incubi oh my!

Can you tell I’ve been dying to say that…lmao

And who do you think decided to go with an incubus as one of their main characters throughout the Pulp Friction 2015 year? Oh that would be yours truly *bows*…I know – what am I, insane? *heads desk*

So please join my world and meet Laurant

Ain’t he a cutie? You can find him at Amazon, ARe and Smashwords.

Let’s see if we can drive him completely and totally senseless…doesn’t this promise to be all kinds of fun? lmao

Blind Stud

In a world where supernatural creatures openly exist, who can blame them for coalescing in one of the most fascinating and erotic places on earth? Welcome to New Orleans.

Laurant likes sex...

Maybe that’s an understatement, pleasures of the flesh are more than enjoyment, they’re a necessity. He’d starve without them. Problem is, he isn’t attracted to women, and in his family, if you get your sex from men, you’re the wrong type of demon. The (unfortunate) life of an incubus isn’t all orgies and orgasms.

That life is about to get a lot more interesting, though, when he catches sight of a lost and alone human who definitely needs his help…doesn’t hurt that he’s hot as the NOLA summer with just as many mysteries about him.

A stranger to himself...

What are you supposed to do when you blink your eyes and realize you have no idea who or where you are? Pretty sure the answer isn’t trust a sex demon with your life…all things considered that may be the lesser of two evils…

About Pulp Friction 2015

Lee Brazil ~ Havan Fellows ~ Parker Williams ~ Laura Harner

The Pulp Friction 2015 Altered States Collection.

Four authors.

Four Series.

Twenty books.

One supernatural finale.

Spend a year with the creatures that go bump in the night…fighting for their rights to exist and protecting the innocents of The Big Easy. A diverse group of friends trying to find their place in a world they never had to “fit” into before.

Although each series can stand alone, we believe reading the books in the order they are released will increase your enjoyment.

Round One:

Drawing Dead (Jack of Spades: 1)

Blind Stud (King of Hearts: 1)

The Devil’s Bedpost (Four of Clubs: 1)

Diamonds and Dust (Ace of Diamonds: 1)

Blind Stud

A poker game played as five-, six-, or seven-card stud where all the cards are dealt face down—you are blind to them.

This game is action-packed and exciting, the gamble is exceedingly prominent…paralleling life perfectly.

Chapter One

He blinked.

He swept the landscape in front of him, houses and people and lots of colors—greens, yellows, and purples all over the place…

He blinked again.

Nothing was familiar to him. It wasn't unfamiliar in the aspect that he couldn't remember any of it—more in the realm of he'd never seen this place before in his life. A distinct difference between driving an as-of-yet never ventured into part of town compared to driving through a completely different region with differently styled buildings and a foreign feel.

This was a foreign feel to him.

He turned a hundred eighty degrees and stared at the surroundings previously behind him.

Another blink.

Still nothing.

Where was he? What city was he in? What state? Country?

Someone hurried past him on the sidewalk and roughly bumped his shoulder. The unexpected force twisted him at the waist but his feet were planted firmly in their spots and didn't budge.

"Sorry." The pretty, tall girl smiled coyly at him before the man she was with proprietarily grabbed her elbow and tugged her forward.

He winked at her, enjoying the tinted hue enveloping her cheeks before another jerk on her elbow had her facing front and speed-walking to keep in step with her boyfriend.

Tilting his head, he admired her ass, the perfect shaped globes jutting out on the bottom and tapering up to an hourglass midsection, reminding him of an upside-down heart. His gaze leisurely made its way to the boyfriend's ass, firm, solid and blessedly not flat. It had none of the jiggle the woman's ass boasted. Truly buttocks a man could hold and work into without worry of hurting the sensitive bits.

The woman was cute. The man was hot.

Either one would be a nice distraction, but he had issues at the moment that had to be tended to.

How did he come about standing here, not knowing where here was?

Others walked around him, more considerate than the female. The sidewalk where he stood featured a decent amount of foot traffic, or at least he assumed it did. What was a decent amount of foot traffic? A dozen people every few minutes? Two dozen?

Again, he shook his head, trying to focus on the problem at hand. The number of people forced to step around him would not answer the question of who he was.

Oh my…he didn't know who he was either.

Well, this was inconvenient.

He brought his hand up and ran it through his hair—short and soft. He then gripped his chin and rubbed it. Bristly. Somehow he knew that to be the norm; he suspected he hated shaving.

His stomach growled and he concluded he enjoyed food, and needed some soon. But for food he'd need money…and where there was money there would be identification.

His dunce moment finally ended and he searched the pockets of his jeans. Empty. Well, of course he wouldn’t get lucky enough to have something as important as an identification card or license. That would be too simple. He wondered if his luck always ran in this direction.

So to put this all in perspective, he stood in the middle of an unknown street with no memories, identification, or money?

If he prioritized his situation, his hunger needed attending to first. After that simple task, he could move on to the more complex issues, like who he was and where he came from. Sure, where he stood was important also, but learning where there was seemed relatively easy.

Just to prove that fact to himself, he stepped over to a gentleman who’d been fixated on him quite obviously.

"Excuse me, where am I?"

The man looked him up and down before the corner of his mouth twitched. He stepped closer and ran a hand lightly down his arm. "Where are you trying to go?"

The man tried to maneuver closer but he stared him down, not appreciative of the uninvited attention. Something about this person made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

He decided this wasn’t the person to help him with his dilemma and turned away.

An unapproved hand grabbed his forearm and the stranger spoke again, “Don’t run away so quick. I can help you.” The words were innocent enough, but the impression behind them made his skin crawl. He didn’t understand, but his gut reaction was to leave this man’s presence now. Since he didn’t have anything he could trust right now but himself, he heeded his gut’s sentiment and yanked his arm back.

As the man reached again another stranger appeared, almost as if from nowhere, and situated himself right in between him and the man.

"Vic, my dear, you have me intrigued." The new stranger winked at him before turning to the man he'd tried to escape. "We're good. Head on down the banquette, sugar."

He expected the man to be upset by the interruption, but instead, his eyes darkened as he looked between the two of them. He didn't move his feet, but his body leaned forward trying to invade their personal space.

"Oh no no no, off wit’ ya now." The new stranger laughed, a deep drawl rolling through his voice that wasn't there mere seconds ago.

The man seemed to respond to it as was evident in the very pronounced bulge of his jeans. Nodding to them both as if in a haze, he turned away and hurried to another small group of people, immediately sidling up and hooking his arm around a shapely woman’s waist.

The new stranger belly-laughed rather loudly before straightening and centering his full attention back to him. "Deities save me from humans that think they’ve got game. This is the place for me to do that voodoo I do so well. Now back to you, Vic…tell me all about yourself. Don’t you be leaving any bits and pieces unexplored, either."

He looked at the new intruder. This one didn’t raise any warning bells in his system yet. The man wasn't much smaller than him physically, yet he had a distinct impression that size wouldn’t be judged in feet and inches with this one.

"Do you know me?"

"Well, not in the biblical sense…yet…" the man quickly responded, dragging his upper teeth over his bottom lip and pulling it tight.

"What's your name?"

“You can call me Laurant…or fate, either or.”

“And my name is Vic?”

Laurant studied his face. “You don’t know?”

He took a deep breath, wondering if this man knew him or was just causing trouble. “You called me Vic. Am I?”

“Well you reek of victim, Vic. That player had you in his sights something fierce.” He nodded in the direction of the hustler and his next mark. “Me being a stand-up kind of”—he cleared his throat—“guy, I couldn’t let that happen, now could I? As for what your real name is, well, it’s customary for the owner of the name to bequeath other people with it, not the other way around.”

Just as he figured, Laurant didn’t know him and they were wasting time standing here chatting. He turned and walked away down the sidewalk.

“Oh hey hey, now now, if it was that easy to escape me, my friends would’ve done it many many years ago…I’ve got legs too, you know.”

“What do you want?” He decided if he could satisfy this Laurant character then maybe the man would leave him alone.

“I’d settle for a good fuck.”

That was just crass enough to make him stop walking. He turned toward the man and really studied his face, looking for some hidden message in his features. Laurant had striking aquamarine eyes that seemed to delve into his very soul, lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, and a chin and cheeks covered with stubble that would rub perfectly against his own.

He jerked, stepping away from Laurant with that thought. Regardless of the other man’s exclamation of wants, he’d meant his perusal of him to be innocent enough…not an inventory of sexy attributes Laurant may or may not possess.

“Oh goodie, you aren’t completely immune to my charms.” Laurant gave him a cheeky smile.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “And what charms would those be, other than your lecherous grin and a curved barbell in your ear?”

“Honey…I’m the man you dream about but can never truly have.” Again Laurant invaded his personal space, leaning in and whispering. “I’m an incubus, cher, and I’ll make all those dreams come true and then some.” His drawl returned with a vengeance.

“I’m not scared of you,” he said in direct response to the stranger’s suggestive proposal.

“Well, that’s a damn good thing, considering you’re a bite-size bigger than me…” The stranger took a half step back and perused up and down his body. “Well, I’ll assume you’re a bite-size bigger, but I think I should investigate, fo’ sure.” That distinctive drawl that played in the background of his voice seeped thoroughly into his words again.

He widened the gap between him and this straightforward stranger with a full step back, resisting the urge to cup his crotch to find out the size of his own endowment. Wasn’t that the sort of thing a man should know? How large—or small—his penis was. Or the color of it…was it severely darker than his—he glanced down at his arm—olive skin or maybe lighter. Were penises always a shade or two darker? Could they possibly be lighter? Did he know the answer to these questions? Shouldn’t he know the answers to these questions? Had he seen a lot of different ones? Did he have a preference for the male body organ over the female’s? What did a woman’s vagina look like? Had he ever been intimate with the fairer sex?

“Having any good thoughts there?” a voice whispered way too close to his ear.

This time he resisted the urge to move away. He wouldn’t show weakness to this nuisance. “What do you know about my thoughts?”