Snogging with Peter and Hinata

An Excerpt from Shadow Dance, my free LiAW novella

“Well now, you must be Peter’s Butterfly. I’m Marcus.” Hinata squeaked, actually squeaked for all the world exactly like a mouse or a frightened middle school kid. His eyes flew open to find the upside down face of a dark angel staring at him with a lopsided grin and nearly black eyes full of wicked mirth. A ragged moan from inside the front door brought both their eyes back to the house. Peter stood leaning against the doorjamb, pain radiating from every line of his body, and a very pissed off Rufus with a nasty scratch down one side of his face loomed over him looking equally torn between picking his cousin back up and kicking him the rest of the way out of the house.

Hinata scrambled out of Marcus’s arms and across the small porch in a flash to wedge himself under Peter’s right arm. “Here. Lean on me, Peter. You shouldn’t be trying to walk on your leg yet. Not without a brace on it.”

Rufus backed a few steps away, the irate look on his face lessening as the white lines bracketing Peter’s mouth pinched tighter. Tater stood ready at the couch, a pill bottle in one hand, and glass of water in the other. “Rufus, you’d better come help him down to the couch. I don’t think he can do it on his own without hurting his leg more. And I told you we outta have put that brace back on his leg before we brought him down. You can see for yourself he doesn’t have a lick of sense about things like this.”

Rufus nodded, easing closer to Peter’s other side. “Hinata, you just hold him steady a moment when we get to the couch. I’ll get him down on it safe enough as long as he’s not trying to get on his white horse and ride.”

Hinata glanced up at Peter, and then over to Rufus. Why would he be rattling on about a white horse? Peter’s cousins were more than a bit odd. He shook his head, and then nodded. “I will hold him steady for you.” Peter’s delicious scent rose to fill Hinata’s head, richer and stronger this close to the source. The tight place inside Hinata that had wound tighter all day with thoughts of his mother and how he could keep her away, keep her from being disappointed in him let go all at once. Hinata sank to his knees, grateful that he could pretend to be helping to lift Peter’s legs onto the couch.

He remained kneeling for a moment. Peter’s hand slid across the nubbly surface of the couch, coming to a stop a whisper away from touching Hinata’s cheek. “Thank you.” Hinata’s lungs opened up, allowing air to move in and out again, and the black spots dancing in his vision released their hold on him.

“I am fine.” Peter’s hand moved a fraction forward, the tips of his fingers just grazing Hinata’s skin. A husky chuckle sounded above him, and Hinata tilted his head back to meet Peter’s blazing blue eyes.

“I never—don’t y’all need to be seeing about dinner?” Peter’s hand kept touching Hinata’s cheek, but his eyes turned away to glare up at his cousins, Marcus, and Andre who had entered the house at some point while Hinata concentrated on getting Peter settled on the couch. Hinata giggled. Peter’s eyes turned back to him, heated once and again. Hinata found the air in his lungs suddenly burning hot. He swallowed thickly.

In the distance Rufus answered. “I reckon we might just need to run out and pick something up. Come on fellas.” And then there was a flurry of footsteps and the soft thump of the front door closing. Peter never looked away from Hinata’s face.

“You thought I was a girl.”

Peter nodded, his gaze still hot, but dipping now from Hinata’s eyes to trace along the line of his nose to his lips and back again. “I surely did.” Peter’s voice had gone deep and growly again.

Hinata’s insides jumbled over themselves like dancers in a first year recital. “I am not a girl.” The words came out each thinner than the last until the final one was nearly transparent.

“I reckon not.” Peter’s face loomed closer as he set a hand on the edge of the couch and stretched his long torso sideways.

“Does that matter?” Hinata rose up higher on his knees.

“I reckon we’re about to find out.” Peter leaned a touch further, ending his words with his lips against Hinata’s. Pressing forward, Hinata’s head whirled with a kaleidoscope of colors from the heated blue of Peter’s eyes to the dark blond of his hair to the sweet pink of his lips. Something moist and firm pressed against his lips.

Hinata gasped. “What are you doing?”

Peter pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling now. “Finding out if it matters or not to me that you’re another guy.”

Then he leaned back in, and suddenly his other hand was there, sliding along Hinata’s jaw. “Open for me.” The words were accompanied by a nip to Hinata’s lower lip, and the steady pressure of Peter’s thumb in the corner of Hinata’s mouth. Hinata’s brain clicked over. He let his jaw fall open as his eyes slipped shut. Peter’s tongue stole inside, mapping out the hidden crevices of Hinata’s mouth until Hinata was gasping for breath. He wrenched his mouth away, realizing three things simultaneously. He had one hand balled into a fist with a bit of Peter’s thin tee-shirt clutched inside it, his other hand was wrapped under and around Peter’s neck while he keened into Peter’s mouth, and the hand Peter had wrapped around a very private portion of Hinata’s anatomy was stroking a lazy rhythm which exactly matched the ebb and flow of Hinata’s noises.   

Peter hummed, a rich note of satisfaction in the noise, and then he murmured against Hinata’s lips. “I reckon not.” 

******

For more snogging goodness, get thee to the original home of the Sunday Snog, with a ripping hot read from Victoria Blisse and links to loads of other snogs!

The Original Snog!!


READ Hinata and Peter's full story, Shadow Dance, here: http://tinyurl.com/LiAW-Story-ShadowDance

Thursday Think Tank: Things that Move Me

Really good song lyrics move me. It's why I make a playlist for each and every Work In Progress. The songs reflect the story I'm writing, somewhere deep in my soul, and playing them puts me right in the headspace I need to be in to write those particular characters. It's amazing and wonderful.

Lately Adele has been moving me. You know, there's just something about a girl that can turn a man breaking her heart into multiple grammys and an album that just couldn't stay off the charts that says WOW to me. Heh. So I listen to her when I write. Right now I'm working on the sequel to The Soldier & the State Trooper, and her wonderfully poignant lyrics and smoking hot melodies are exactly the thing to put me in the space where I can breath Evans and Doctor Bald-Eagle.

Thanks, Adele.

Work in Progress Wednesday: An Unedited Excerpt from The Soldier & the Shaman

Here's a sneaky-peaky at the wip I'm currently embroiled in... I do love me some Specialist Evans (Christie's bff from The Soldier & the State Trooper) and this is a peek into his story. Enjoy!

*************************

Sadly there was no reason to open up a can of whoop-ass on the big man. Nikki grumbled very softly, low in her throat. The doctor heard her. He arched one of those damnably knowing eyebrows up. Nikki bit her lip to keep from snarling in the enclosed space. The doctor shifted suddenly in his chair, and Nikki nearly did something far worse by whimpering. You could never let them see fear. Once she had control of herself she spoke.

“You never answer the question I asked about Evans…well, not properly. And what the hell is your first name?  Or is Bald-Eagle your whole name?”

By the time she got done, he was giving her that ‘oh aren’t you adorable look’. Nikki’s fingers itched to smack it off his face. Something must have shown on her face, because he sighed, shook his head and started to talk.

“My first name is Ryan, Nikolina. And he told me his very long white name when we first met, and Hawk was part of it. He was this heartbreakingly beautiful, brave, sad-eyed little boy…I don’t think he could have been more than three or four. So I told him that it was too long a name for me to remember, and that I would give him a name of the People.”

Nikki was leaning forward in her seat at this point. Ryan’s whole face lit up as he told her about his first meeting with Evans. His fierce amber eyes softened, and the starkly beautiful planes of his face eased into something warm, and approachable. Her gut unclenched. This—this was like sitting at a table with Nalle. Nikki bite the inside of her bottom lip. Nalle wouldn’t hurt her… so maybe this man wouldn’t either.

She didn’t worry that he would get the best of her. She was highly trained in hand to hand combat now. There was no real threat as long as she remained vigilant. Only time would tell if the big man would try to use his size against her, or Evans. The skin at the base of her scalp prickled.

“I made up some ridiculous ceremony involving a lot of chanting and smearing copious amounts of mud onto each other’s faces. When we had danced until we lost our breath, we fell onto the ground together and …”

A slightly shaky voice spoke from the doorway. Nikki and Ryan both looked up immediately, Nikki just a hair more quickly.  She turned, leaning back into the corner, to find Evans stading there, pale but resolute. The hand he gripped the doorframe with was white knuckled.

“And he told me that my name and mine alone, from that day forward would be Little Hawk.”

*****

Chapter Six

Ryan saw the white knuckles and heard the shaking voice. He was out of his chair and at Little Hawk’s side in a flash. He got there just as the smaller man’s knees buckled.

“I thought I told you to stay in bed?”

Nikolina made a choking noise behind him. Little Hawk looked up at him with laughter dancing in his eyes. He cocked an eyebrow at Ryan. His voice was decidedly wispy sounding.

“I may not be able to stand on my own two feet right now, but last time I checked I was a full grown man.”

Ryan growled. He slid his hands down from their grasp at waist level to grip Little Hawk’s firm ass. He lifted the smaller man hard against his aching erection.

“I don’t think you’re a child. I think you’re a man I want better as soon as possibleso I can fuck your sweet ass into a screaming orgasm.”

The kitchen was silent aside from the uneven sounds of all of their breathing. Ryan carried Little Hawk to the table. Nikki hastily scrambled up from her own seat to pull a chair out for him. Her heavy breaths, flared nostrils and the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of her fists attested to the effect of his words on her. Ryan eyed her warily as he placed Little Hawk carefully in the seat. Bending down he looked the stubborn man in the eyes. “Stay here while I make lunch.”

Nikolina cleared her throat. Ryan looked up at her. Shit. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes narrowed. Her voice rasped with suppressed emotion when she spoke. “What do you want me to do? I thought I was helping you make lunch?”

Ryan reached across Little Hawk to pick her up. She gave an undignified squeak before he plopped her down on Little Hawk’s lap. She turned a shocked face up to him. “Sit on him and keep him where he is.”

Nikolina squeaked again as Ryan turned away. He strode over to the freezer, pulled the door open and stood in front of it. The cold air eased the ache in his cock slightly. He reached in, grabbed an unlabeled container and held it against his groin for a moment.

I have to feed then both and let Little Hawk rest more before we can have sex. No room for negotiation there. Must let them eat. Must let him rest, and Great Spirit, I must find some way to explain to Nikolina why I dragged her out here with us. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.

Ryan realized the container was some of the chicken soup he’d made and frozen against a day when he might be sick and not feel like cooking for himself. Perfect. It was light, nutritious and easy. He popped it out of the container and into a microwave safe mixing bowl. He set the timer for ten minutes, and then grabbed the basket of rolls he’d baked the day before and set them on the table. As he placed them, he caught first Nikki’s eye, then Little Hawk’s.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for both of you. I know I get ahead of things…I apologize…I’ve known both of you longer than you’ve known me. At least I’ve known you longer consciously, because I remember all my dreams of the two of you. Every single one of them was an incredible experience I shared with you. I have decades of those memories with Little Hawk, and months and months of them with you Nikolina.”

He broke off there, and turned back to supervise the microwave’s heating of their lunch. In the shiny black surface of its door he watched as they stared first at one another, and then turned in unison to watch him. The silence stretched out until the microwave pinged. He opened the door, stirred the half-melted soup, and reset the time for six minutes. Pressing the start button, he forced himself to turn and face them.

*****

“Wow.”

Nikki and Evans spoke at the same time. She grinned over at him, and gave in to the impish impulse tugging at her.

“Jinx…you owe me a soda.”

Evans laughed at her, delight clear in his shining eyes. Nikki took in the look of wonder in the grey-blue eyes, the little dimple in his left cheek. It merrily echoed the larger one at the tip of his chin. Then, just as quickly as the sunny expression had come, it faded away. A wary look of concern took over.

“I—um, I’m sorry to have been so much trouble to both of you. I—er, if there’s a taxi-service out here I can just call for a cab back to base. I really am much better now.”

Ryan stood with his back to them as he stirred the soup again. His snort was still clearly audible. Nikki felt herself taken aback by Evans’s diffident manner. It was like he was trying to obliquely apologize for his moment of joy...or perhaps for drawing their attention with it?

Did no one lovingly tease him as a child? And then afterward take joy in his joy?

Nikki felt her heart lurch just a little. Based on his reaction she guessed not. Imagining her daughter Alyssa without the basic security of those interactions with her extended family…she couldn’t help thinking his childhood must have been lonely.

No wonder he made a play for Christie. That little man is bursting at the seams with love, and he comes complete with his own little family.

Nikki bit her lip and started to speak. Ryan beat her to it. “We can talk about it after lunch.”

Evans looked down at the table like a scolded child.

Well, shit. Where’s the cocky guy who calls me Pretty? Him I can have a good brawl with. This guy I just wanna wrap up in my arms and rock. 

“So, Doc—uh, I mean Ryan, you’ve been dreaming us? Will you tell us more about that?”   

Ryan half-turned, arching an eyebrow at her as he answered. “Yes. I started dreaming of Little Hawk when I was…oh, sixteen I think. Maybe I was seventeen. It was the last summer I spent with my grandfather before I went away to college…so I must have been seventeen.”

Evans looked up then, a hesitant smile on his handsome face. Ryan’s words drew an answer from him.

“I wrote a story about that dream. When I was in school my Advanced English teacher tried to encourage us to get in touch with our creative sides. He offered these corny prizes…but I wanted to do it. I wrote about that dream. But in the dream I wasn’t a little boy.”

Ryan’s look grew heated. Before he could respond to Evans’s words, the microwave’s timer shrilled again. Nikki repressed the urge to scream.

Just say whatever it was you were thinking. We can get to the damn soup later. All this freaking cloak and dagger shit and the sexual tension between the two of you is killing me!

When two pairs of startled eyes turned her way Nikki realized she’d spoken those thoughts aloud. “Well, shit! Um, oops?”

*****

Spirit—Ryan groaned. Evans kept his mouth shut. There was no way he was bailing the big man out on this one. He wanted to know what he’d been about to say too.

“Nikki, you both need to eat. Little Hawk needs more rest. I—“

He stopped speaking and leaned forward, rhythmically banging his forehead against the cabinet door in front of him. Nikki squirmed her way in-between him and the counter. Evans couldn’t see what she did, but it had to be good, because Ryan stopped beating his head against the cabinet. Instead he scooped Nikki up with a growl, set her ass on the counter and then swung around to the table.

Holy fucking hell!!

The heat in his eyes was burning Evans alive. Ryan took two long strides across the kitchen, cupped Evans face in his hands and then laid a scorching kiss on his mouth. Evans moaned, pulling the bigger man toward him by the waistband of his jeans and popping the top two buttons open before his brain really processed what he was doing. 

Wait a minute…I don’t remember these pants… he was wearing dress pants at the wedding… oh, right he must have changed while I was out of it.

In a trice, Evans had three more buttons of the big man’s pants undone and had heisted his ass up on the battered wooden surface in front of Ryan. He started to peel back the sides of Ryan’s fly, intent on devouring the big man faster than a tender feast at a Denture Wearers convention.

A clatter from the far side of the kitchen drew Evans’s attention for a second, and he stared, slack jawed as Pretty scrambled down off the counter. He swore steam was shooting out of her ears. “Now you just hold on a damn minute Ryan Bald-Eagle! I like good porn as much as the next girl, but seriously? Can you guys wait at least until I leave the room?”

Ryan shook his head, stumbling back with a look of contrition on his face. “I have to finish the soup.”

She was panting, her chest heaving with barely controlled rage. Evans could see the pissed off look creeping over the side of her face as she wound herself up to really light into Ryan. Right in front of him she morphed from the comrade who had laughed with him to something unchecked, lethal and frankly frightening.

Pretty is about to blow harder than that volcano at Pompeii, and I don’t think Ryan has a clue. What did I do to piss the universe off? What? Mean-assed-killer-ninja-barbie is about to take us both out for getting frisky in front of her, and I’m never even going to get to have Ryan fuck me senseless. If that doesn’t just suck giant hairy monkey balls, I don’t know what does.

Wicked Promo Wednesday With Edward Kendrick

Edward Kendrick’s ‘Weekends’ blog hop

Thank you very much for having me here today Cherie.

 Edward, as always, it's truly a pleasure to spend time with you. I understand you have some lovely, shameless promo for us today? *gentle laughter*  And, thanks for doing this so well that even I couldn't mess up your blog tour. *looking at the readers--yep, I'm a hot mess with the posting of stuff sometimes... but Edward made it Easy Peasy for me... as well as easy for you to win a copy of his lovely book. You won't want to miss that!

* * * * 

And now for the obligatory promotion. As if you didn’t know that was coming.

-grinning-

Coming, July 21st.

https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/coming-soon-c-2/products_id/877/

Blurb:

Marcus Hampton is a staid forty-year-old bookkeeper and a confirmed bachelor. When Demitri Costas, a young photographer, asks if he can take some pictures of Marcus, the older man is surprised but reluctantly agrees.

Demitri becomes infatuated with Marcus, despite the fact he believes the man is straight and married.

Slowly they become friends until each realizes the other is gay, at which point Marcus begins to pull away, certain he is too old for Demitri.

It will take everything within Demitri's power to convince Marcus he's wrong. If he can, and he is determined he will, one way or another, they just might find a future together.

Excerpt:

The Weekend Before Thanksgiving

Marcus stretched, checking the time before getting back to what he was doing. His fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyes following the scrolling information on the screen in front of him. It was all rote. Add this, subtract that, make certain part one equaled part two when he'd finished. He was sometimes tempted to move some of it to his own account just to see if he'd get away with it, but he was too honest to even try.

Honest as the day is long, and today seems very long.

He checked the time again.

Why the hell do I care? It's not like I've got anywhere to go other than home.

Running a hand over his short, graying blond hair, he sighed.

I'm a creature of habit and boring as hell, the stereotypical bookkeeper.

An hour later he jumped when someone tapped his shoulder.

"Hey, you planning on spending the weekend here?" one of his coworkers asked.

"Not if I can help it," Marcus told him with a small smile. He closed out the spreadsheet he'd been working on, shut down the file, and logged off. Grabbing his coat from the hook on one wall of his cubicle, he made it to the elevator just in time for the doors to close in his face.

He shook his head, pressed the 'down' button and waited, thinking, The perfect end to a perfect day, week, month, lifetime, then snorted softly. Not.

* * * *

Marcus arrived at his small house on the outskirts of the city to be greeted by a very petulant "Meow" from Daisy. She looked up at him and, her full fluffy tail standing straight up, stalked to the kitchen. When he joined her, she looked disdainfully at her empty food bowl then glared at him.

"Okay, sorry," he told her. Opening the cupboard he took out a can of her favorite cat food, popped the top off and spooned it into her bowl.

"Now for my supper," he muttered, checking the refrigerator to see what was available, if anything.

Leftover lasagna or second-day stew, decisions, decisions.

The stew won out so he dumped it into a pan, set it on the stove to heat, and grabbed a beer before going to turn on the TV. The news was wrapping up, the weather report said it would be cold and snowy for the next few days, and his favorite team had just lost their best player to an injury.

So much for making the end of my day any better than the rest of it.

The smell of something burning had him rushing back to the kitchen. The stew was boiling over, the hot liquid hitting the burner. He rescued it, dumped the stew into a bowl and set the pan in the sink to soak with the hope he'd be able to scrape the burned residue off the bottom eventually.

As he sat down to eat he felt something soft brush his leg and seconds later Daisy had jumped up onto the other chair. She watched him avidly; meowing piteously as if she hadn't just eaten a whole bowl of her own food.

"I'm such a sucker for a pair of golden eyes," he grumbled, setting a small sliver of meat in front of her. She batted at it, sniffed it and then delicately ate it before looking at him beseechingly.

The game continued through the rest of his meal. When the bowl was empty he got up to take it to the sink, at which point Daisy knew she'd had all she was going to get and jumped down, walking sedately into the living room.

Marcus got there a few minutes later to find her curled up in her corner of the sofa grooming herself. He sat down at the other end, picked up the remote and flicked through the TV channels until he found something which might be worth watching.

* * * *

Halfway across the city Demitri Costas slammed his book shut, startling his roommate.

"Problems?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, no, I have no clue, which is actually the problem," Demitri replied. "I'm never going to understand this."

"Then drop the class. You still can, you know."

"And face the wrath of my father? Umm, no."

"Damn it, Mitri, you're twenty-three. It's time you got out from under his thumb."

"He's footing the bill."

"Do you really want to be an engineer?"

Demitri shot him a disgusted look. "What do you think?"

"I know you don't, so drop the class. Hell, drop out of school completely. You're too talented to spend your life slaving away for him." Jack pointed to the photos which lined one wall of their living room. "Any one of those, sold to a gallery, could pay half the rent and then some and you know it."

Demitri scrubbed a hand through his dark, curly hair. "You keep saying that but…" He shook his head.

"But nothing. So help me if you don't do it, I will. Lacey knows several gallery owners, she can steer us to the right one."

A glance at the book he'd been studying made Demitri wonder if Jack had a point. "All right, I guess I can at least try. Find out from her which one would be the best and I'll see what happens."

Jack grinned. "They'll love them, you'll become rich and famous, and I'll be able to say 'I knew him when'."

"That or 'Yeah, he's the fool who though he could make it' as you and your friends pass by me while I'm panhandling on a street corner," Demitri replied with a laugh.

"Not going to happen, Mitri. So, when do you want to do this?"

"As soon as possible before I lose my nerve."

"I'll call her and we'll go tomorrow."

* * * * 

Blog:

http://edwardkendrick.blogspot.com/

http://edwardkendrick.multiply.com/

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/edward.kendrick.5

Google+

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Email:

edward.kendrick002@yahoo.com


I’m also holding two contests as part of my ‘Weekends’ blog hop, which is part and parcel of my being July’s Featured Author at Silver Publishing. One is on my blog - http://edwardkendrick.blogspot.com/

The other one shows up on the blogs of those wonderful people who are hosting my blog hop tour. Today, obviously, that person is Cherie.

My newest release ‘Weekends’, is a story which takes place over several holiday weekends. What is your favorite holiday, and why? On each one of the blogs, one commenter will be chosen at random to win an ARC of ‘Weekends’. Please be certain to leave an email address so you can be contacted if you win.

The list of hop addresses where you can find me and also enter the contests:

Monday, July 9th – Lily Sawyer – http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Wed. July 11th – Cheri Noel - http://talesfromthewritingcave.blogspot.com

Thurs, July 12th – Cheyenne Meadows - http://cheyennemeadows.blogspot.com/

Friday, July 13th – AJ Jarrett - http://ajjarrett29.blogspot.com

Sunday July 15th – RJ Scott - http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/

Tues. July 17th – Angel Martinez - http://www.freewebs.com/angelwrites/apps/blog/

Wed. July 18th – Freddy MacKay - http://freddymackay.blogspot.com

Thurs. July 19th – Amara’s Place (Cheri Noel) - http://amaras-place.blogspot.com/

Mea Culpa... Again

Sorry about the delay in announcing winners in the two contests I most recently held. A family emergency came up which has kept me away from the computer for several days, and I have to go back and tabulate and double check who all entered and do the draw... but the winner will be up by mid-day tomorrow. Thanks for your patience. 

Contest Winners will be announced later today

I pinky-swear!

Monday Mania

More of the same really, just hiding out (as much as I am able) in the cave writing my fingers off in-between juggling the needs of my family. The same song sung by oh-so-many, yes? Because most everyone has demands on their time that have to do with other stuff than the marvelous characters running around in their heads,and that's just as it should be... and yet, as authors, the characters in our heads are part and parcel of both our one true love and our favorite first or second job of the many jobs we may hold.

Some of us are fortunate enough to have the writing gig be our full time job, others have to squeeze their writing in around the day to day grind of other careers and general things. I'm trying to squeeze my writing in around all my daily life stuff, and this week the real world shenanigans seems to be leading the race. Perhaps next week the roles will reverse, or I will be better able to balance the two. I sure hope so, because my characters are getting antsy and giving me all sorts of grief over the long delay in telling their stories whilst I deal with daily life!

I am writing, my dears. Not as quickly as I would like, but I am writing, and will keep at it.

This is Cherie, writing you from the trenches in front of the Writing Cave, madly waving the white flag as I try to keep my daily life from warring with my characters.