Category Archives: Guest Blog

Friday Five Interview

I’m over at Amanda Young’s blog today, answering her Friday Five questions. Please drop by and say hello; and, if you haven’t already explored Amanda’s fiction, stick around there for a while and see what she writes too.


Emotional Intelligence, guest blog

Today I’m visiting with Jessica Freely, author of Broken and Amaranth & Ash. Oh, she’s written others, but those two are my favorites. Check them out, and not just for the lovely P.L. Nunn covers.
Drop by Jessica’s blog, Friskbiskit, where I’m discussing emotional intelligence and the contagion of emotions on the internet. Leave a comment and you could win a copy of Hounded By Love too.
Hope to see you there!
Happy reading, cari miei,

Coming This Week

I’m over at Slash & Burn today following up on last month’s post about blogging. I know I’ve been neglecting this blog, and that’s the focus of this month’s S&B post. Stay tuned here for more on that topic later this week.

Also this week (Thursday, I believe) I’ll be visiting Jessica Freely’s blog with a post about emotions around the internet. Jessica is a fellow Loose Id writer, and one that has those lovely PL Nunn covers too. Yes, that’s why I first tried her stories, but I stayed for the wonderful characters. Drop by Thursday for a chance to win a copy of Hounded By Love.

Last, but certainly not least, RJ Scott is celebrating her anniversary as an author. To celebrate with her, several of her writing friends have gathered to share our thoughts on writing, publishing, and more. I’ll share details at the end of the week.

Happy Sunday, dear Readers!

Guest post: Freddy MacKay

I’m taking a writing break this weekend, but please welcome Freddy MacKay in my place. Freddy is here to share an excerpt of a new Silver Publishing release Incubation. Welcome Freddy! 


Thank you Pia for having me today and hello to everyone who has stopped by.  My name is Freddy MacKay and I’m here to talk about my new release.


My book, Incubation: Finding Peace 2, was released yesterday by Silver Publishing. And Pia is letting me give you guys a taste of it.


David McCourt’s makeshift family moves in together and forms a protective cocoon around him. But they don’t know David’s whole story and he finds the constant noise a distraction instead of a help.

Bobby, Chris, and Austin want to help David however possible—but he needs to open up.

Jackson crossed a line he never thought he would. He wants to take a chance with David, even if his dreams of a normal life are firmly rooted with Alyssa.

The group has the makings of a rag tag family, but secrets—old and new—threaten their fragile bond. The community takes sides and David ends up where he doesn’t want to be: the center of everything.


Content Advisories: This has references to rape or near rape, and has MF and MM scenes.

The excerpt I chose today actually shows a scene between David’s professor, Junnosuke – Jun – Ito, and his longtime friend Henry Wilson. Jun plays the role of David’s protector and father-figure in the series, and he becomes an important part in David’s past, present and future. He’s a little nutty but I love him. Jun is driven by his own past haunts and it is those that draw him to David.

So I felt it was only fitting he got some props during my little blog hop.


‘Fixing the Kitchen’ Excerpt

Pulling the cabinet away from the wall with a crowbar, Junnosuke–Jun–Ito grunted. The muscles in his arms strained from the effort it took to bring the old oak cupboards down. Sadness churned in his chest for the slow destruction of his former home, but the boys needed a safe place to live. Giving them a residence where he could watch over them was imperative. He needed to know they would be okay. And, in a strange way, remodeling was almost liberating. The house had been stuck in time, a constant reminder of better days… and worse ones.

The kitchen hadn’t changed in the nearly thirty years since he and the guys put it in during their undergraduate school days. Neither had the bathrooms for that matter, and the tacky, early-1980s décor had to go. Jun chuckled. How had they ever thought any of this crap had been a good choice?

Bright blue eyes with unruly, dirty blond hair flashed in Jun’s mind. Abby. His best friend always had… eclectic taste.

“What are you laughing about?”

Jun glanced back. Henry Wilson had his arms crossed, eyebrow arched, and a questioning look on his face. His friend’s T-shirt had sweat marks around the neck and armpits, and his shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly. Guilt seeped into Jun. Henry felt the demo every bit as much he did, if not more. Henry had been the one to stay behind, kept the house when Jun couldn’t stay; the anger, remorse, and confusion over Abby’s disappearance driving him from their home.

“Just wondering where our good sense was when we decorated the place.”

Henry grinned and looked around. “You mean, why we let Abby take over?”

“Did we have a choice?” Jun asked defiantly.

Henry shook his head, squinted at Jun. “You’re the one with carpentry experience.”

Jun snorted. “Do you think that would have really mattered? Abby didn’t even remember until we tore up his bathroom.”

“No,” Henry answered. His smile widened, and his eyes sparkled with the memories of their friend. “Abby was a force unto himself.”

“Yeah, he was,” replied Jun quietly. He looked around the room. “But I can’t believe you haven’t made any updates; it’s almost ridiculous.”

Henry stepped next to Jun, grabbed the crowbar, and planted his foot against the wall. “Just wanted Abby to have a place to call home if he ever decided to come back… thirty years passed before I realized it and, well, I—” Henry shook his head. “Time just got away from me. Besides, being your lawyer has kept me more than busy over the years.”

Jun gave Henry a half smile and nudged his friend’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” chastised Henry affectionately.

Jun’s grin spread across his face. “Nope.”

Henry managed to pop the cabinet off of the wall.

Tilting his head to one side, he winked. “And I’m pretty sure with how well you have this kitchen and the rest of the house put together you never intended for any of it to come out… ever.”

“Fuck you, Henry.”

“No thanks, Manami’s got that covered.”

Jun flipped Henry off then motioned for his friend to place the crowbar between the wall and next cupboard to be removed. Turning back to the cabinet, Henry slid the flat end of the tool against its edge, and looked around.


Smiling, Jun handed his friend the tool. “You did learn something from me.”

“Asshole,” Henry grumbled and hit the crowbar. His lips pressed together in concentration, his gaze focused directly in front of him. “How are Manami and the kids? I missed Kana’s orchestra concert last week and didn’t get the chance to see them.”

“I—uh, they’re good.” Jun grabbed the cold steel and helped Henry pull. “Kana was a bit put out you didn’t show.”

They grunted, yanking hard, and the cabinet popped off the wall.

“She adores you,” mumbled Jun, scowling. He let go of the crowbar and wiped his hands on his pants.

Henry laughed. “I know.”

Standing back, Jun looked up at his bulky friend and smiled. “All the kids do. Toku and Yuu have missed you too. I wish you’d have dinner with us more often. It’s not healthy to eat by yourself so much.”

Henry shrugged, giving Jun his standard non-reply reply.

“Well…” Jun looked around the kitchen, a sense of loss overwhelming him. “It looks like the demo’s done here.”

Henry agreed quietly. “Yes, it does.”

Jun didn’t move, didn’t speak to Henry. He just stood with Henry in their old, demolished room. If Henry felt half of what Jun did, then all the old memories of the space filled his thoughts, too. A familiar dull pain bloomed in his chest.

“We still have a lot to get done,” said Henry finally, somberly, glancing around the room. “Those bathrooms aren’t gonna ignore us.”

“That’s true. We need to get everything out so the kids can paint.”

Henry sighed. “I never wanted to deal with those horrid rooms again.”

“Horrid?” Jun squinted in Henry’s direction.

Excerpt End


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Thanks for having me Pia! I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend!

Guest Blog: Falling into a Mud Puddle by S.A. Garcia

Dear Readers, please give a warm welcome to fellow Silver Publishing author, S.A. Garcia. She’s come to visit and share the intimate details of how the idea for An Elf for All Centuries was born.


I remember that in my original submission letter, I tried to sum up “An Elf for All Centuries” in a succinct, intelligent manner. Man, back then I thought I failed like a bad stock. I guess I didn’t, because here I am celebrating the novel’s release.

Why write a book about a supermodel elf being kidnapped back in time in order to save his world?

Pop quiz: am I a huge Lord of the Rings fan? Answer: Damned straight I am. Actually, I’m not straight, but you get the drift. I am one of those teens who read LotR back in the early 1970’s because Robert Plant referenced LotR in his lyrics. Remember Robert Plant and Led Zeppelin? Sexy, raw rock and roll sans auto-tuning? Yeah, way back when. Back then the sincere concept of brave heroes and mysterious elves satisfied my virgin mind.

Flash forward to the movies. What annoyed me the most about the LotR movies? Too many decorative men wearing too many clothes. I think the most flesh we saw was when Aragorn rolled up his sleeves a few times to reveal sinewy forearms. No one stripped down to wash up, no one undressed for sleep, no one said, “Gee, it’s warm today, maybe I’ll unlace my tunic a tad.” The scene where Legolas appeared in the tight light blue tunic when greeting Frodo seemed positively pornographic.

On the other hand, I did enjoy Liv Tyler’s hubba-hubba outfits. Her low-cut outfits told me that they aimed the movie at geek guys. Guess what, dudes? This old lady offered her thanks. At least someone showed off flesh.

After seeing the movies, I had a dream. Honest, I had a dream about some unusual creature, he beautiful, of course, falling to the earth and landing in a mud puddle in what looked like a Yorkshire moor. He fell splat on his hands and knees but sustained no injury. The creature, he clad in this gorgeous light linen suit, pitched a serious fit, stood, and stalked away toward buildings in the distance.

The weird imagery stuck with me. I wrote it down, ah yes, I always write down those peculiar dream sprouts. Sometimes the sprouts grow into real novels. I have many sprouts I visit to water lest they languish from lack of attention. I pet them and promise them that their time will come soon. Good thing they don’t understand the concept of time. Their concept of soon is vague.

The mud dream, LotR, mmm, everything percolated together, swirled like swamp gas. How did the lovely creature in the suit… shazam!

Irritant. The creature in the suit supplied the irritant. He needed to act irritating. Echoes of Lestat from the The Vampire Lestat teased me. My character needed to be… fuck yeah… a supermodel. A self-centered, brash, “it’s all about me” supermodel. Someone like Zoolander, only nurturing far more coherent brain cells and an even bigger personality. This annoyance came from the future but he, and here came the huge “AHA”, needed to save the world, drum roll please, in the past. He lived in a really fucked-up future which needed adjustment from the past to survive.

Imagine, a self-centered, supermodel ELF needed to go back in time to save the world. Yeah, right, like the supermodel elf, and here I really gilded the lily and made him a bratty prince, would willingly go back and save the world.

The prince needed a sexy carrot to entice him. The perfect elf prince enjoyed plenty of wet dreams. What if the supermodel traveled back to save the fantasy elf who often ravaged him during vigorous nocturnal fuck fests?

This seemed like a great plan until I thought wait, come on, the problem remained. No matter what enticed him, would such a brat travel back willingly? Damn, I knew that no matter what emotional ploy I used, the supermodel would refuse to leave his safe penthouse. I thought, “Hell, when in doubt, resort to magic. Bring on the cliché wizard to kidnap the supermodel elf prince back to the past.”

Bingo, I had my big start. That is what I needed. I released the parking brake, let the story fly and watched the strange dream sprout grow into a novel with all the unexpected twists and turns.

What a marvelous feeling!

The result? I give you supermodel elf Prince Fabion, brat extraordinaire. Here is a little teaser from “An Elf for All Centuries.”


Elven super model Prince Fabion’s day is perfect until wizard Matradorian kidnaps him from his penthouse. Surprise, Fabion is a spiritual match for elf king Henda’s dead lover. Only he can save the dying Henda. The problem is Fabion lives in the thirty-ninth century. Henda lives in the nineteenth.

When he lands in the nineteenth century, Fabion controls himself from punching Matradorian, saves Henda and falls in instant lust with his romantic fantasy. After all, this is a romantic comedy.

When Fabion realizes his polluted, on the verge of ruin thirty-ninth century is gone, the super model pitches the temper tantrum of any century until he realizes sexy Henda accepts him as his true lover. Being the virile, handsome Henda’s lover fills Fabion’s emotional gap. Despite the lack of facials and hot water, the former super model adapts to living in the backwards century.

Soon Fabion learns the nineteenth century is more dangerous than his vanished thirty-ninth century. Who wants to kill him now? And why?


The supermodel reached the Sequoia’s warded doors. Tough-looking guards nodded his way. The fawning security chief opened the doors inserted into the tree’s giant base.

Before he entered, Fabion stopped and glanced to the right. Wait, who lurked over there? How had he slipped past security?

An ancient oldster, clad in a peacock feather-coated top hat and a tattered, blue robe, slumped against the Sequoia’s rough, far edge. Upon spying Fabion, he stood straight. His excited stare speared into Fabion’s flesh. Fabion sensed the invasion pass through his clothing and examine him down to the bone. How did the old wart create the strange violation?

Fuck, the insane wizard everyone was talking about now stalked him.

He owned no time for magical nonsense. Fabion pointed in command. “Guards, secure that suspicious, old cretin!”

The five aggressive guards followed Fabion’s gesture. Huh? No way! The scruffy dude had vanished!

A tall, blond hulk respectfully glanced toward Fabion. “Prince Fabion? Sorry, there’s no one there.”

Right, like duh, butthead. Did the blond lunkhead suppress a snicker? Asshole. “Wow, my eyes must play tricks on me.”

Like fuck! Fabion possessed sharp elven vision. The old bastard had stood right over there. The weirdo had even managed to make eye contact with Fabion. Super-duper creepy.

Fabion stared in further suspicion. Nothing. He sighed and entered the tree’s unnaturally enhanced pine-scented interior. No matter, the sweet air instantly calmed him down. At least the designers had left the rough wooden interior alone. How rare.

Another forlorn jab hit Fabion’s mind. What the fuck was wrong with him today? He needed to feel fabulous, not introspective. Fabion turned to the tall, human security head and amped up his smile wattage.

“Kyle, make sure no old wizards sneak in here. One lurked out front and I swear the skanky asshole shot me the evil eye. Too weird, right?” Fabion shook his head. “When Hestran arrives, send him right up. No need to buzz me.”

The handsome human winked in acknowledgement. “Will do, Prince Fabion. How did your meeting go?”

There, someone cared about him. Fabion preened in giddy delight. “Mmm, Kyle, consider my rent paid for eternity. Worry not, the fabulous bonuses for the many kicky extras you supply me still flow your way.”

Winking coyly, Fabion trailed his long fingers down Kyle’s cheek. He loved slumming with the muscular human. The security administrator’s bloodline traced back to an ancient, trusted royal human family sworn to support the elves. Too bad the Walmon goons had declared human dynasties illegal. Arrogant power-hogs.

“The news makes my day, Prince Fabion.” Kyle ducked away from the security camera and wetly kissed Fabion’s soft palm.

Fabion smacked Kyle’s firm cheek. “Stop it, you naughty boy. Hey, you’re off tomorrow and I’m not busy.” Fabion playfully winked again and licked his lips.

He adored how Kyle almost drooled in aching delight. “What time should I arrive, my prince?”

“Come up around four. Bring take-out from that clever dwarf fusion café. Their barbecued electric eel and fried kiwi combo platter is faboo. We can enjoy a picnic out on my balcony, well, if the pollution isn’t deadly. No matter what, at least we’ll enjoy each other.”

“I can’t wait, fair one!” Kyle bowed in respect.

“Keep hot for me, sweetie.”

His secret human squeeze deserved one last radiant smile. Fabion strolled to his private elevator and punched in his access code. He smiled at himself in the gleaming mirrors. What a delightful view. Nothing in squalid Pinar matched the pristine sight. He always wore light colors to offset his emerald eyes and waist-length, coppery tresses. This tailored suit displayed his masculine assets in a subtle yet impressive fashion. No wonder everyone adored him.

Fine, fuck, almost everyone. Stop!

The doors opened into the snug security foyer. Cameras monitored his movements. Another access code opened stern steel doors. Fabion stepped up to his custom, hand-carved double doors depicting him as a benevolent savior. As he murmured soft runes, Fabion’s fingers touched key spots in the beautiful display. They were located at his nipples, cock, and lips. Yum. Elven magic supplied more security than keys and locks, although when drunk, Fabion owned a dragon of a time entering his own penthouse. Slurring during a strict, elven rune chant messed up the works. He hated calling his building rune master, but the problem occurred more often than Fabion cared to admit. Rune Master Sarde had made a fortune off befuddled Fabion’s house calls.

The thick doors swung in. His mobile phone sang Hestran’s tune. Now what? Hestran probably needed advice on a purchase. His fingers plucked out his phone from his vest. Fabion entered his penthouse. His finger aimed for the answer button.

Instead of answering his phone, Fabion shrieked in total alarm. The phone fell to the expensive carpet.

Fabion turned to escape. The heavy doors mysteriously slammed shut. What the fuck? He launched his body at the doors. His hands grasped the silver boar’s head doorknobs and yanked backward. No effect. Cursing intensely, he slammed his handcrafted leather heels against the doors and pulled back in enraged elven might. Nothing happened. Come on, his superior physical effort should have ripped the knobs free from the wood.

Fabion muttered his security runes again. He touched the proper places on this side.

Nothing. Nada. Null. Impossible!

Fabion did not need this radical nonsense. Time to kick wizard ass in a lethal manner. He seldom released his elven strength but when he did, if he was sober, he understood how to inflict nasty damage. Abnormal strength and pristine looks were Fabion’s only special elven assets. He hated violence but hated violation even more.

His feet slammed back to the carpet. Fabion whirled, raised his taut fists toward the old geek standing before him and bellowed in fury. “Listen, you filthy old bastard, get the fuck out of my penthouse right now! I don’t understand how you slithered in here, but you need to slither out! I have more crucial things to do than endure your shit!”

The grubby dude performed an elaborate, arcane gesture. His staff bobbed. Fabion froze. What? Gaag! He couldn’t move, speak, or even blink! As Fabion helplessly watched, the winkled old dude performed a triumphant little dance. His feathery top hat bobbed atop his long, white hair. No points for grace.

“That I am able to smite thee tells me that ye are truly the one!”

Huh? Smite thee? Geesh. Struggling mightily, Fabion almost broke free from his freeze. To his annoyance, the old one flicked his fingers again.

The wrinkly dude stopped dancing and cleared his throat. His epic frown reminded Fabion of a frustrated prune. “Right. Sorry, I need to sink back into your odious speech patterns. Dude, I have conquered thee—wait, let me make this clear for you.” He hesitated one more time. “Bud, I can freeze your pretty royal ass, which means you are the true Prince Fabion. Do my words compute? Do you savvy my sizzlin’ stunt?”

Who had slipped him the hallucinogens? The frozen Fabion stared in pure amazement. His fractured temper soared into the polluted sky. This old asshole deserved an extra large helping of elven ass kicking with a side of manic stomping. He deserved to be tossed off the balcony into the Dumpster.

“Right, you can’t talk.” The old git twirled his right hand in an intricate pattern. “Pal, now you can talk. Let me warn you, if you raise your voice again, a choking spell will knock you out. Are we clear on the new house rules? I will let you talk, but no caterwauling. High-pitched elven hysteria hurts my poor, old ears.” He waved his tall, gnarled staff toward the astonished Fabion.

Fabion snarled in prime annoyance. “What the fuck do you babble about? My prize-winning voice is not high-pitched. I record my own commercials and win awards!”

Instead of looking impressed, old prune puss shook his head. “Fabion, if I release you, do you swear upon your elven soul, or what passes for an elven soul in this wretched century, not to jump me?”

Fabion rolled his eyes. “Yuck, do you think that I want to grope your grubby dick? Dude, so not true! I’d rather kick your wrinkled ass. Besides, what the fuck are you going to do to me? Keep me frozen and pork my tight ass?”

A vastly insulted look crossed the old man’s features. “Listen, mouthy, I don’t like your attitude. I’d best keep you restrained. Fabion, although you are a sweet hottie, I am not here to jump your bones. Please listen to me. I have wandered across this fucking filthy, crowded city looking for the chosen one. I need to find the royal elf who is a bitchin’ soul match for Fabion Leonia, son of Tonasdian, who died in the year 1803. Tag, pal, you’re him.”

Thanks for reading and thanks to Pia for letting me ramble on her territory.

Who wrote this nonsense? That’s me, S.A. Garcia!

Thirty years ago, I started writing m/m romance. My writing remained a secret lest my friends thought me a freak. Writing about men inserting tab A into slot B didn’t seem the norm for a female teenager. Reading Gordon Merrick, John Rechy and Larry Kramer helped me fill in informational gaps. Yes, I read those books only in my bedroom.

As the years progressed and I discovered my sexual path, I still wrote m/m romance, although the stories progressed from lurking in notebooks to hiding on the computer.

Now I am glad I kept the writing faith. Six published novellas and novels later, my life is a fun quandary of too many stories hindered by slow typing skills. I accept the silly challenge.


More info about S.A. Garcia

Buy Link: An Elf for All Centuries

Website: S.A. Garcia’s World of Words

Facebook: Sandra Ann Garcia

Twitter: @SAGarcia_Writer


Quick Hits

Just a couple of quick hits today, because my To-Do list has spread out of control like a zombie infestation…

For an excerpt from Hounded By Love, visit Slash & Burn by clicking HERE

I’m visiting RJ Scott today, sharing a story of a dear friend and the dragon who watches over me. Click HERE

And lastly, but far from least, Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there. To my mom, thanks for having me. We really need to share a bottle of wine some time soon. Love you!

Pia Veleno

Welcome Silver Author, AJ Jarrett

I want to thank Pia for letting me visit today. She was gracious enough to let me come and talk about the book I have coming out this Saturday called Set Me On Fire. Set Me On Fire is a M/M romance that revolves around two firefighters falling in love. But with any great love there is always struggles and difference to overcome, right? So I had to have my main characters suffer some drama in the goal of reaching that happy ever after.

That’s what I love about writing, telling a story that paints a picture of what could actually happen in a person’s everyday life. No aliens, vampires or shape shifters but actual human beings that we can relate to. So I choose firefighters because, hello, who isn’t attracted to firemen? In my eyes that is one of the sexiest professions a man or woman could have. Not because of the attraction factor but because they are willing to run into a burning building while every other person is running out. And it’s not because their crazy or have a death wish. No it’s because they have that special something inside them that puts others safety above their own. Who wouldn’t fall in love with that?

Thanks again Pia for letting me ramble on and to everyone for stopping by. Here’s a little look into Set Me On Fire. I hope you enjoy!



Kelly Lynch wanted to become a firefighter to help people, but with his accident prone nature his boss, Nate Anderson, thinks he’s an utter fool. Kelly never planned to fall for Nate but now that he has, he realizes loving is easy; understanding and compromise are hard.

Nate has been attracted to Kelly since his first day at the station house. Watching the younger man day in and day out is frustrating. Kelly’s latest stunt almost got him killed and Nate fears losing the man of his dreams.

Will Nate’s demanding ways cause the embers of their love to die out? Or will Kelly prove he has what it takes to be with Nate, at work and in the bedroom?


“God, I swear if you get me out of this mess I promise to listen and follow orders for the rest of my life, or at least make the effort to try,” Kelly prayed aloud as he crawled, belly down, across the dirty floor. He was doing his best to see through the smoke-filled room but still couldn’t find where he’d entered.

Kelly scooted a little more, using touch more than sight to navigate his way through the smoky haze and chunks of debris. He had separated from the team of men he’d come into the burning building with. A choice he now regretted immensely.

He had made a stupid move, but he could have sworn he’d heard someone cry out for help. A completely bonehead move to run off without telling anyone. One of the first things they taught you when you became a firefighter, never leave your team, or at least partner with someone else, but never go off on your own.

But no, he thought he knew better and wanted to be the hero and save the poor individual stuck in this fire pit. Now he was starting to wonder if he’d just imagined he heard the cry for help.

“I’m so fucked.” Kelly rested his helmet-covered head on the ground and then proceeded to bang his head on the hard floor. It was useless, he was trapped.


Kelly sat up at the sound of someone yelling his name. What direction had the voice come from? He couldn’t tell. The sound was so faint compared to all the hissing and crackling noises of the fire in full blaze all around him.

“God damn it, Lynch, where are you?”

He heard the shout again, only louder. Kelly felt his way around the floor until he came face to face with a boot. He started to look up when large, glove-covered hands grabbed the back of his jacket.

“What do you think you were doing, you dumb shit? You’re lucky we noticed you missing.”

Kelly could tell by the size of the man dragging him out of the entryway that it was Luke Parsons, one of the biggest guys in the house. He may be a big beefy guy, but he was super nice, and Kelly couldn’t have been more grateful Luke found him and not the lieutenant of their station house.

“I’m sorry but I thought I heard someone call out for help.” Kelly grabbed at Parsons’ hand, still attached to Kelly’s jacket, dragging him along. “Please, Luke, I know I heard someone,” he pleaded as he tried to pull himself free of Luke’s hold.

The fire raged through an abandoned building in the East Bottoms of downtown Kansas City. While the only people in this building were more than likely homeless, they were still people who needed to be saved.

“Are you sure, kid?” Kelly nodded enthusiastically. “Okay then let’s see what we can find. We don’t have much time; this building is going up faster than a hay bale.”


As Kelly followed Luke back into the room, the sound of a faint cry grabbed both their attention. Luke pushed Kelly behind him as he made his way toward the small whimpering sounds. As they got closer, Kelly saw the slight frame of a man huddled in the corner. Luke bent down and snatched the man up in his arms.

Luke looked to Kelly. “Lead the way. Follow the way we just came and you’ll see the crew in the hallway.”

Kelly navigated through the smoke and falling ceiling tiles toward the exit. As he reached the doorway the hall was empty. He turned back to Luke. “They’re not here.” Panic started to eat away at his composure.

“Shit,” Luke shouted. “Here, kid, take my radio and let the guys know we’re coming out with another man in tow. They need to have paramedics ready for this guy.”

“You know the way out?” Luke nodded as Kelly took the offered radio and lifted his face shield. “This is Lynch and Parsons. We got a survivor and we’re coming out.”

“Copy that, son. Make your way out fast. We just got the order to clear the building and let it burn. Move your asses now.”

He looked back to Luke. “You get that?”

“Yep. Head out the door and the stairs are on the right. We need to go up one flight then a little ways down we’ll come to a set of double doors and that will take us outside.” Kelly watched as Luke hefted the man higher on his shoulder. “Start moving.”

Kelly nodded his understanding and made his way toward freedom. Times like this he questioned why he wanted to be a firefighter. No one in his family was one, so it wasn’t about carrying on a legacy or some shit.

As he pushed the door open with his shoulder, he was greeted by sunlight streaking through the smoky clouds rolling off the burning building. He looked back toward Luke, the man he was carrying appeared passed out over his shoulder. That was why Kelly had chosen this profession. He wanted to make a difference. Have a job he could be proud of.

“Over here.”

Kelly and Luke walked right over to the ambulance and deposited the man with the paramedics. They then made their way over to the engine where the rest of the crew stood watching the fire burn. Kelly flipped up his face mask and removed his helmet. Then he took off his jacket, tucked the heavy material under his arm, and stared up at the building. If Luke hadn’t found him, Kelly would be one crispy critter right about now.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

Someone grabbed Kelly by the shoulders and threw him up against the side of the truck, causing him to bump the back of his head hard against the metal door. When his vision cleared he saw Nate Anderson, lieutenant of station house sixteen, standing right in front of him with the attitude Kelly had hoped to avoid.

“Hey, Nate, back the fuck up.” Luke pushed himself between him and Nate. “If it wasn’t for Kelly, that man over there would be dead.”

Nate took a step back and looked toward the ambulance where the man was being triaged. Kelly could see the vein pulsing at Nate’s temple. He wasn’t happy and Kelly knew he would be hearing all about that unhappiness later.

Nate looked back at him over Luke’s shoulder. “You and I will talk about this back at the station house.” Nate pointed a finger at him and then walked away.

He was so screwed. Every time he made a mistake Nate made sure to tell him how and why he screwed up. Granted, it was Nate’s job to go over the mistakes they made so they could learn from their errors, but his lectures were becoming a broken record. Kelly wasn’t looking forward to this discussion.

Find AJ in these locations:

Blog ~ Twitter ~ Facebook
Silver Publishing

Best of 2011 Nomination! (And other slightly less exciting stuff)

First of all, I have no idea why the Erotic Diaries guest blog didn’t post yesterday. It was arranged through my publisher, so I’ll let you know when I hear more on if or when it’ll be rescheduled.

Now to the exciting part!

Make You Sweat has been nominated for Best GLBT Contemporary Romance over at The Romance Reviews! I’m so thrilled to be considered. The announcement made a rough day at the non-writing job much better.

Please take a moment to vote for Make You Sweat, and check out the other categories too.

Thank you for your votes! (See, I’m hopeful.)

In other news, Hounded By Love (formerly titled A Hound’s Love) is shaping up nicely. I expect it to be ready for you, dear Readers, in about two months. I’ll announce the official release date as we get closer, so I don’t jinx myself with some weird expected issue that could delay it. For now, I must rush off to fill out the cover art form so I can get a pretty, sexy picture to share with you.

Pia Veleno

Upcoming guest blogs

Erotic Diaries, March 16th (Friday) — Man Whore, one year later.

Amber Kell’s blog, March 19th (Monday) — Romance, real life and fiction.

Now back to edits. The next release is due out in less than two months. Have a great weekend!



Getting to know RJ Scott

If you’ve arrived here from RJ Scott’s blog, welcome! If you’re wondering why I asked that, take a moment to visit RJ’s website (Sunday morning) to learn about her new release, The Only Easy Day, and how to enter a drawing for a $30 Silver Publishing gift certificate.

Today, I asked RJ: “What first inspired you to write sexy sweet manlove stories?”

RJ said:

This is easy! I blame Jason and Mark from Battle of the Planets. I blame Apollo and Starbuck from the original Battlestar Galactica. I totally blame Jared and Jensen from Supernatural!

 In short, the answer has to be Bromance!

 I never even actually realised I had loved MM since I was about eight!

Mmm, Supernatural, an excellent choice for inspiration.

Thank you, RJ, for filling my head with images of Dean and Jared. Congratulations on your latest Sanctuary release.

Happy reading, cari miei, and don’t forget to stop by Silver Publishing’s site to decide how you’d spend your winnings.

Now I must return to the editing room as A Hound’s Love has a tight schedule for publication. Oh, how I love a challenge!

(No, really, I do.)

Pia Veleno