Wednesday’s Hunks
I snagged this picture from Just Beautiful Men. I’ll be adding the link to my sidebar. Stop by and check out all the gorgeous guys. đ
Not much happening this Wednesday. Work and writing. Woo-hoo! lol
Hope everyone has a great day and enjoy the picture. I know I will. đ
Poetry Train…
He’s Mine…
Holding him tight in my arms,
I stare over his shoulder at you.
I canât help but grin
At the pout on your face.
You donât understand why
He wants me instead of you.
Why heâs in my arms with his back
To your perfect body and beautiful face.
He wants arms that are strong,
But that know how to be weak.
He wants a body that is hard,
But that knows how to yield.
He nuzzles my neck and
I pull him closer.
Maybe itâs because
He knows the simple truth.
I love him more than I love myself.
TA Chase c. 2008
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Stop by Rhian’s blog to check out who else is on the train.
Finally Friday…
I do have good news. Liquid Silver contracted Where the Devil Dances for their 2009 Hearts Afire series which is all about firefighters. Two stories every month for the entire year and then they’ll come out with a calander for 2010 with the covers from the books. đ I can’t wait for that…lol.
Hope you all have a great weekend.
Poetry Train…
Hey everyone, first off, I posted a interesting (imo..lol) post over at SEx, Liquid Silver’s blog about two movies I saw over the weekend. đ Stop by and leave a comment for me.
And I didn’t have time to write a new poem for you all. This weekend was crazy busy, so I thought I’d give you a peek at a little scene I wrote. This is for the fourth book in a series I’m planning on writing…lol. Yes, another one of those teases. The series is called Blood of Eden. It’ll have werewolves, vampires and angels in it, plus other things. This story is titled Babel’s Salvation. Here’s the beginning of the first chapter. (I think..though there might be a little more to it when I finish)
Excerpt:
âWhat do I do now,â Salvadore murmured to himself, hands clenching his hair.
âYou shouldnât be talking to yourself. You arenât remotely old enough for that.â
He jerked his head up to find a tall lean man standing next to his table. The manâs silver eyes met his and he knew. This was no ordinary man. This man was the thing of legends.
âI know who you are,â he informed the man.
Tilting his head, the stranger conveyed a question without words.
Sal dug through the piles of papers and books, reading the different languages without pause. Russian, Greek and Hebrew. English, Spanish and Italian. The words as familiar to him as his own name. The stories told of hundreds of men who gave their lives to keep a secret safe. He pulled out a photocopy of an Illuminated Manuscript page and pointed at the being represented there.
âYou are one of the Paladins who protect the secret.â Sal sighed, his head pounding and his heart racing. Where were his pills? He bent over, reaching for his backpack. Had he remembered to put his pills in there that morning when he rushed from his apartment?
A large hand jerked him upright and his vision blurred as his head spun. His chest constricted, causing his lungs to burn and the air disappeared from them. He gasped, having no choice but grab the manâs arms and hold on.
âS-h-h-hâŚtake a deep breath. Itâs okay.â
Shaking, he focused on the man kneeling beside him. Those silver eyes pulled him in and the vise on his chest eased. Salâs breathing fell into rhythm with the strangerâs until he could sit without worrying about passing out. When the man was satisfied Sal wouldnât fall off his chair, he pulled a chair over to sit in.
âWhy do you think Iâm one of those Paladins, I think you called it?â The man nodded at the picture.
âYouâre the one who doesnât die. The other three die and are reborn in new lives.â
Resignation shone in the manâs silver eyes. Sal was right, but he didnât feel vindicated or anything like that. He was tired. For years since being released from the hospital, heâd spent almost every waking hour searching for the reality to the dreams heâd been plagued with all of his life. He started to stuff the papers and books into his bag. The stranger helped him. When they were finished, he stood. The man towered over him.
Slipping a hand under Salâs elbow, the man started to escort him from the library. âYouâll come with me.â
âAre you going to kill me?â He ignored the gasp coming from a patron walking past them.
âNo. We are going someplace where we can discuss this. I am not the one who kills.â
âWho does then? One of the other Paladins?â
A calloused finger covered his lips. âNot another word. This is not the place for us to talk about secrets.â
Nodding, Sal indicated he understood. The finger left his mouth and he asked, âWhat is your name?â
âMy name is Babel.â
âAre you taking me somewhere to kill me?â Sal couldnât let that thought go. People who found out about the Paladins died.
âPaladins donât kill unless we must. The Blood of Eden doesnât need our help killing those who search for it.â
Copyright c.2008 T.A. Chase
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Stop by Rhian’s blog to see who else is on the train.
TGIF…
We saw The Dark Knight last night. I have to say it was probably one of the first movies I’ve seen that actually lives up to all the hype. Heath Ledger was brilliant as The Joker. I feel sorry for whoever has to play the main bad guy in the next Batman movie. How do you follow up such an amazing performance? The weakest character, imo, was Rachel Dawes and it has nothing to do with the actress who played her. It was simply that Rachel didn’t really have much to do in the overall progression of the story plot.
Yet that didn’t take away from the fact that TDK was awesome. Dark, moody with a hero questioning whether he’s doing the right thing and a bad guy crazy enough not to care what he does or how many people he kills. (Another story/screenplay I wish I had written) đ
Hope everyone has a great weekend.
Coming Soon….
Here’s the good news I’ve been hinting about since last week or so. Samhain has contracted the second in my Love of Sports series. This one is titled High Line and is about Garrett, Kasey’s twin brother. đ It’s scheduled for a February release. I thought I’d share the unedited blurb and a little excerpt to whet your appetite for it.
High Line, Love of Sports Book 2: (copyright c. 2008 T.A. Chase)
One of Hollywoodâs sexiest leading men and one of racingâs top drivers. Will they get the green flag for love or will a black flag stop their relationship in its tracks?
Garrett Johnson has every thing he ever wished for. His acting career is taking off, bringing him accolades heâd never imagined. Good friends and family keep his days hopping, but watching his twin brother fall in love exposes the emptiness in Garrettâs life. Emptiness created by the betrayal of his ex-lover.
C.J. Lamont is at the top of the racing world, but his winning record is based on a carefully constructed lie. When his ex-wife tells all in an interview, C.J. canât think of anything else to do, but run. Just as he hits rock bottom, heâs rescued by Garrett Johnson, Hollywoodâs hottest leading man.
Garrett will do anything to help a man from taking the same path as his ex-lover. He offers C.J. a place to heal and a shoulder to lean on. As time passes, the two men grow closer and C.J. realizes he has a decision to make.
After losing everything he worked for, C.J. must decide whether heâs going to rebuild his fictitious life or admit to loving a man who shines brighter than the Hollywood stars.
Warning: Hot man love. Sticky situations with honey. Fast cars and faster men.
Excerpt: (this scene takes place a year before the main events of the story when Garrett and CJ meet for the first time)
Garrett pushed to his feet. âI should be going. My flight is early in the morning.â
âThanks for coming. I enjoyed it. I havenât had many people over since moving in.â He took the highball of whiskey and followed Garrett to his front door.
âThank you for everything youâve done for me this month, C.J. If you ever need anything or anyone to talk to, call me. Iâll be glad to help out.â
Something in Garrettâs tone or words hit C.J. Afterwards, he never could figure out what made him do it. He gripped Garrettâs arm, pulling the taller man tight to him. He dropped his glass, not caring about the whiskey stain on the carpet. He buried his fingers in Garrettâs hair and brought their lips together.
Garrettâs lips were as soft as C.J. had imagined them to be. Garrett froze for a second and C.J. whimpered, afraid he would push him away. For this moment in time, C.J. wanted to taste a man without worrying about being discovered or exposed. He knew Garrett wouldnât say anything.
A shudder shook Garrettâs body and the actor wrapped his arms around C.J.âs waist, crushing him to Garrettâs hard chest. Strong hands cupped his ass, rocking their groins together as the kiss went deeper. He opened his mouth to allow Garrettâs tongue entrance. The taste of the beer Garrett had for dinner danced along C.J.âs tongue as he stroked along the inside of Garrettâs bottom lip. Garrettâs warm breath washed over C.J.âs lips when the man moaned.
He followed willingly as Garrett leaned back against the door and spread his legs, cradling C.J. within the space between his thighs. C.J. rubbed his aching erection over the bulge in Garrettâs jeans. A fleeting thought raced through his mind. For the first time in his life, kissing another man felt right. It felt natural instead of something he should be ashamed of or needed to hide.
Tingling traced along his spine and gathered at the small of his back. He was going to come in his jeans. His movements were jerky as his climax built.
The ring of the phone broke their embrace. Fuck, what had he done? C.J. stared at Garrett in horror, realizing heâd broken all his rules. Not only had he kissed a guy, heâd done while he was still married. Shit, heâd just cheated on his wife. It didnât matter that they were separated and about to get a divorce. He had some honor left.
Garrett panted and C.J. found his own breathing matched the actorâs. He watched the passion dissolve out of Garrettâs green eyes to be replaced with understanding and compassion. The phone stopped ringing.
âI should go.â Garrett ran a thumb over C.J.âs swollen bottom lip. âWhen youâre free to admit who you really are, come find me.â
Poetry Train
The series is called Sweet & Sinister Confectioners and here’s the blurb for the series:
If you were to ask the locals in Salem, Massachusetts how long the Sweet & Sinister Confectioners shop has been there, most will tell you itâs been there for at least a hundred years. They tell stories of going there with their grandparents and picking out treats for Valentineâs Day or Halloween. They tell you memories passed down from their great-grandparents about the shop and how itâs always been run by members of the Sweet and Sinister families. Theyâll say what an old dear Sylvanus Sweet is and how Cyrus Sinister has been a devoted partner to Sylvanus for over fifty years.
But if you happen to run into a local who believes in magic, theyâll give you a sly wink and tell you thereâs something special about the candy and candles those two men sell. If youâre attuned to the things that go on unnoticed in the world, youâll feel the power filling the air from the moment you step foot into the shop.
For Sweet & Sinister Confectioners is more than just a candy store. Magic and dreams are created there for all who enter with a pure heart and believe.
The tinkling of the bell brought Sylvanus from the back of the shop. He knew the sound annoyed Cyrus, but the bell hung over the door to catch Sylvanusâ attention and let him know he had a customer. Both he and Cyrus tended to get caught up in their pet projects.
Cyrus love, we have a customer. He sent a thought towards Cyrusâ side of the store.
The man was in his thirties. A professional corporate man dressed in suit and tie. His blond hair was perfectly styled. An impeccable image of the American dream of a successful life, yet Syl could tell the man wasnât happy. Syl moved and the man glanced up, his green eyes widening at the sight of Syl.
âHello. My name is Sylvanus and welcome to Sweet and Sinister Confectioners. How may I help you?â
âIâm Terrance Bernslip. Iâm not sure what I came in to find. I donât eat chocolate.â Terranceâs handshake was firm.
âBut your boyfriend does.â Syl slipped his arm through Terranceâs and lead him away from the white chocolate aisle.
âYes, he does, but heâs not my boyfriend anymore. Decided he wanted someone more fun than I am.â Terrance shook his head. âSorry. Havenât gotten over him yet. How did you know it was a boyfriend?â
Syl pointed to the discrete rainbow sun-catcher in the candy shop window. âWe have matching rainbows.â
Terrance fingered his rainbow tiepin. âSo we do.â
âYour ex thought you were boring and no fun.â Syl tilted his head and studied Terrance. âDo you want to prove him wrong and get him back?â
Terrance shook his head without hesitation. âIâm still a little hurt about the break up, but Iâll get over it. I donât need to prove anything. I like to have fun. I just like to have it privately, not in clubs every night or at parties.â
Syl ran a finger along Terranceâs chin. âAh, you are much like my Cyrus. You seem boring and dull to others, but in private with the one you love, you are all fire and passion.â
Terranceâs cheeks turned red, but he nodded. âIâd like to think so.â
Syl patted Terranceâs cheek. âI know you are. Iâm an expert on passion. So whom would the chocolates be for? Do you have your eye on a handsome stud at work? Maybe you can be a secret admirer. St. Valentineâs Day is coming up soon.â
âNo potential boyfriend. Iâve just started wanting to look again.â Terrance looked confused.
Syl could tell the man was wondering why he was telling Syl all of this. He smiled. He tried to make every customer feel comfortable, as if they were coming to a friendâs house.
âYes. When your heart is hurt, it takes a while for you to heal and be willing to risk loving again. So who would you like to send chocolates to?â
âMy friend, Scott. Heâs been letting me cry on his shoulder even though he just lost his partner to a heart attack.â Terrance shrugged. âI want to get him something to show him how much I appreciate his support.â
âOh that poor man. I want to meet him. Please bring him back to see me.â Syl lead Terrance to the aisle where the chocolate dipped strawberries were. âI think your friend likes decadent and expensive things. Am I right?â
âMike, Scottâs partner, and I used to tease Scott about being a princess.â Terrance laughed.
âNow everyone deserves to treat themselves once in a while. What I suggest is a basket with strawberries, champagne, candles and some bath oils. Iâd be willing to put one together for you and it can be delivered tomorrow, if you wished.â Syl plucked a strawberry from the platter and held it out for Terrance to taste.
Terranceâs white teeth flashed as he bit into the fruit. A soft moan echoed through the store.
Got another one, love. Cyrusâ dark voice vibrated in Sylâs head.
Itâs the ingredients you add to the chocolate. Syl praised his lover.
Cyrus laughed. Nevertheless, you put the joy in it, love and thatâs what makes our sweets special.
âScott will love it. Can you make up a basket for me? I donât care how much it costs.â Terrance picked up a box of chocolate-covered cherries. âIâll take a box of these for myself.â
âSylvanus loves to hear those words. Iâve accused him of being a bit of a princess himself.â Cyrusâ arms slid around Sylâs waist and pulled him tight against his loverâs hard chest.
Terranceâs eyes widened and Syl caught the flicker of fear in them. Cyrus tended to do that to people. âCy, stop teasing Terrance.â Syl leaned back, trusting in Cyrus to support him.
âI wasnât teasing him. I was merely stating the truth. Telling Sylvanus that money is no object is tantamount to opening the vault at a jewelry store and telling a thief to take all that he wants. My love has very good taste.â Cyrus brushed Sylâs hair out of the way and nuzzled his neck.
âItâs obvious he does. Heâs your lover.â Terrance looked surprised. It was apparent that he didnât mean to say that thought aloud.
Heâs a good man, Cyrus. Syl reached out and took Terranceâs hand. He brought the younger man closer to him. Without breaking Cyrusâ hold around his waist, Syl leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss over Terranceâs mouth.
Those beautiful green eyes blinked, but Terrance didnât pull away. When the kiss was over, Syl pointed to the cherries. âThatâs a gift from Cy and me. Iâll make sure Scottâs basket is beautiful. Do you have a business card so I can call you with the total cost?â
Syl took the card Terrance held out to him. He moved off towards the back of the store. âI want to get started on your basket right away. Cy, can you show him out?â
*
Cyrus smiled as his lover disappeared into the back. Terrance had a shell-shocked expression on his face. He didnât protest as Cyrus took his arm and started to escort him to the front door.
âSylvanus is a bit like a butterfly. Bright, beautiful and tends to flit from one project to another. However, donât worry. When he focuses that awesome mind of his, he can do magical things.â
âThank you for everything.â Terrance shook Cyrusâ hand.
âYouâre welcome, young man.â Cyrusâ dark eyes gleamed. âDonât worry about your broken heart. I think this St. Valentineâs Day will be special for you.â
âI hope so, Mr. Sinister.â Terrance gave a wave and headed down the street.
Cyrus went back inside and made his way to the workroom where Sylvanus moved around, humming a lively song under his breathe. Cyrus leaned on the doorframe and watched his lover work. For all the centuries theyâd been together, Cyrus never got tired of looking at Sylvanus.
âSo which man do you have in mind for our young businessman?â He asked, moving to capture Sylvanus in his arms.
Sylvanus wrapped his thin arms around Cyrusâ neck. âOur pretty delivery boy will work nicely, I think.â
Cyrus grunted. He trusted his loverâs instincts when it came to matchmaking. It was time for them to do a little making love.
Hey everyone
Happy Friday. Hope you all have a great Friday and weekend. Not much going on, though I posted over at Georgia’s Crossroads Cafe. Stop by and comment about what you like to see on book covers. Georgia happens to be my editor over at Loose-Id and she’s sent up a blog for all of her authors, not just Loose-Id ones. đ Please stop by so I don’t feel lonely.
Wednesday…enough said
Poetry Train…
Whispering words
Against my neck,
You hold me
In the dark.
I leave our bed
In the morning.
Facing a world
That merely tolerates me.
I talk in generalities
About the person I love
Not out of shame
Or guilt.
Simply because I donât
Want to deal with the
Grimaces and stammers
Or the uncomfortable silences.
I live my life out
In the world
Giving people what
I think they can take
When I step
Through the doors
Of our house
I come alive.
Behind the walls
Of our home,
I love you without
Reservations.
T.A. Chase c. 2008
