Archive for Excerpts
New cover and contest….
I realized I haven’t shared this with you yet. This is the cover for the first book in the International Men of Sports series I’m co-authoring with Devon Rhodes. I totally love this cover, and can’t wait to see the rest of them…lol. Of course we have to write them first. This will be out in May. I’ll let you know when it’s up for pre-order, and VIP download. đ I hope you enjoy these men.
Also, I posted a new excerpt from The Whore of New Slum at the Amber Allure Pax blog. Click here to go and check it out. We’re running a contest, and if you comment, you’re entered for a chance to win the entire Steampunk PAX. They’re drawing the winner on Saturday. The whole week has been posts from the authors in the PAX. Should be some interesting posts. đ
For those of you who have asked, I do plan on writing a sequel to The Whore. Not right away since I have some other books to finish up, but there will be more to their story at some point in the future.
I hope you all have a great weekend and stay warm.
Wednesday Work in Progress…
I know it’s Thursday, but everything got pushed back a day..lol. Plus I didn’t have a chance to write the next installment last night. So I decided to give you a sneak peek at my story for the 2013 GRL anthology. This anthology is going to be a little different from last year’s but I think you’re all going to enjoy it.
Also, I’ll have a new cover to reveal to you on Monday. đ Can’t wait to see what you all think. This is the last bit I wrote yesterday.
Here’s the excerpt:
The Occasional Prostitute copyright c. 2013 T.A. Chase
âHa. Thought youâd like him. Young and hot, but a good guy as well.â
âDoes he have to be a good guy? Canât he be just a good fuck?â He sent the message, then looked up to see Gib shooing the last stragglers out of the bar. Gib caught him looking, and waved.
âGood one, Masters. I wouldâve sent you to a different guy if I thought you just wanted a fuck.â
Was he that easy to read? He didnât like anonymous sex much any more. Maybe it was because he was forty, and was feeling his age. âIâm not looking for anything serious, Chen.â
âKeep telling yourself that. Have a good time. Call you later in the week to see how youâre doing.â
He knew he wouldnât be getting anything else from Chen. Theyâve been friends since college, and theyâd chased bed partners together, yet it was more than that. Theyâd both come from privileged backgrounds, but didnât want to follow in their fathersâ footsteps. Chen had become one of the worldâs most sought after neurosurgeons. Heâd made a fortune in his job, but he also travelled the world, performing pro-bono surgeries for charities and poverty-stricken countries. Chenâs father had wanted him to be a corporate lawyer.
Edwin turned his back on his fatherâs well thought out plan for his only sonâs political career. He had no interest in following in his fatherâs career. No, Edwin wanted excitement and the pursuit of truth. He became a journalist to try and keep governments honest. It didnât always work, but he did his best while dodging bullets and being taken hostage. His father kept trying to get him involved in his campaigns, and other people Edwin Masters Sr supported. He managed to stay away from picking anyone. As a reporter, he had to remain neutral, much to his fatherâs disappointment.
He didnât understand Chenâs last text. Keep telling himself that he wasnât looking for anything serious? But he wasnât. Mostly because he was in Atlanta for two weeks, then he was off to some other war-torn countries. He didnât want to leave someone behind who would hurt if he died.
And he didnât want his life restricted by having someone else dependent on him. Edwin enjoyed flying around the world, reporting from exotic places. He returned to the States to remind himself that there were modern conveniences out there, then he got a new assignment and headed out again.
Having a relationship would put a damper on those adventures, and Edwin didnât think he was ready to stop taking them.
âAre you ready?â
Glancing up, he saw Gib standing a few feet away, holding a bag. Edwin tucked his phone away, then stood.
âYes, I am.â
âSorry about making you wait and all, but having an honest job sucks.â Gib laughed as he led the way to the elevator.
Edwin let his gaze drop to study Gibâs ass, flexing under the tight fabric of Gibâs black pants. His hands itched to grab a handful of that bubble butt, but he kept himself under control. Being an adult, he could control himself until they got to his room.
Once they were alone in the elevator, Gib turned to look at him. Edwin watched as Gib stepped closer and closer until his chest pressed against Edwinâs. He didnât think Gib was trying to intimidate him, and if he was, it wouldnât have worked. Some of the most powerful men in the world had tried to do that, and while Gib was drop-dead gorgeous, he really wasnât as scary as a crazy dictator with several armed bodyguards.
âDo you like to kiss?â
Gibâs question caught him off guard. âDo I like to kiss?â
Gib nodded. âSome of my clients donât like to kiss. Iâm okay with that, though I love to kiss.â
Edwin didnât respond with words. He encircled Gibâs waist with his arm, then pulled him as close as they could get with their clothes still on. After burying his hand in Gibâs curls, he tilted Gibâs head for a better angle, then brought their lips together.
Gasping, Gib melted into Edwinâs embrace, seemingly willing to give himself over to Edwin. He nibbled on Gibâs bottom lip, trying to persuade him to open. He leant forward, bending Gib over his arm, and forcing Gib to grab a hold of Edwinâs shoulders to keep his balance.
When Gib moaned, Edwin swept his tongue in, tasting Gib for the first time. He mustâve had a drink at some point before he came to get Edwin, since he found a hint of hops in Gibâs mouth as he duelled with and sucked on Gibâs tongue.
Wednesday Works In Progress….
Another Wednesday…which can only mean another sneak peek at one of my upcoming stories. đ And since I’m finishing up Home Sweet Home, I thought I’d give you one last peek at it before I send it off to my editor. You’ll be able to pre-order it in April…and get it on pre-release in early May (if you’re a VIP member at Total e-Bound) And pick it up on general release at the end of May. But here you go…I thought I’d give you a hot excerpt this time.
Home Sweet Home copyright c. 2013 T.A. Chase
âI am, but not too tired to make love with my boyfriend. Youâre going to be really busy all weekend, so I want us to have some alone time before all the craziness starts.â He gripped Juanâs hips, then thrust his groin up against Juanâs. âI want you to fuck me. You donât have to worry about stretching me. I did while I was in the bathroom.â
Juanâs eyes grew wide, and Yancey chuckled. âI didnât want to waste any time. I really want you in me.â
He spread his legs, and Juan shifted until he was in between them, then Yancey grabbed behind his knees to draw them close to his chest, exposing his stretched and well-lubed hole.
âOh fuck me,â Juan whispered when he looked at Yancey.
âNo, thatâs what I want you to do to me,â Yancey joked.
Juan just rolled his eyes as he found the lube bottle Yancey had set on the mattress. Yancey let go of one of his thighs to start jerking himself off. Juan swore softly, then positioned his cock at Yanceyâs opening.
Yancey relaxed while Juan pushed in until Juanâs pubic hair rasped against Yanceyâs butt. Each of them took a deep breath, then Juan began to move. With each thrust, Yancey lifted his hips to meet them and the sound of their bodies coming together filled the air.
Juan held his body at just the right angle for Yanceyâs cock to rub over his stomach, and it drove Yancey crazy. His lover was hitting his gland with each stroke in and out. All Yancey could do was hold on to Juanâs shoulders while enjoying the ride.
âShit! Yancey, youâre so fucking tight.â Juan grunted and Yancey moaned.
Yancey couldnât say anything because the air in his lungs was being driven out of him each time Juan slammed into him. He threw his head back, and yelled silently as his climax rocketed through him. His cum shot from his dick to cover his and Juanâs stomachs.
His inner channel massaged Juanâs shaft, then Juan came, flooding him with hot cum. Juan collapsed on him, and Yancey entwined his arms and legs around Juan, holding him as close as he could without them inhabiting the same body.
He didnât tell Juan to move or anything like that. Yancey loved the feeling of being pressed into the mattress by his lover. It felt like he was surrounded and safe. Finally, Juanâs softened cock slid from Yancey, then Juan rolled onto his side, still in Yanceyâs embrace though.
âI love you, Yancey MacCafferty,â Juan told him.
Yancey grinned. âI love you as well, Juan Romanos. Now we both need to get to sleep, or youâll be dead on your feet in the morning.â
Juan mumbled something, and Yancey could tell Juan was already half asleep. Yancey wiggled free of Juanâs arms, then reached for the towel heâd left beside the bed. He did a quick clean up of both of them. Just enough so they wouldnât be too sticky in the morning.
After dropping the towel to the floor, he snuggled up to Juan, and let his even breathing lull him to sleep.
Wednesday Work In Progress…
Today I thought I’d share with you an excerpt from A Sticky Wicket in Bollywood, the collaboration between Devon Rhodes and yours truly. My character is Ajay Singh, and he’s one of India’s top cricket players. He’s a pretty good guy, but he has a bit of a temper, and it’s been known to cause him trouble from time to time. Here you go….
A Sticky Wicket in Bollywood. (copyright c. 2013 Devon Rhodes & T.A. Chase)
Excerpt:
Ajay backed away from Neel, who had jumped to his feet and was uncharacteristically crowding in Ajayâs face. Neel had never reacted this way to Ajay talking to anyone before
âI didnât think it was that important for you to know I talked to Raj. Weâre just meeting for chai, Neel. Itâs not like weâre going on a date or anything.â Ajay took a few steps back, trying to put space between them.
âOf course, you couldnât date him. Rajan isnât about to come out of the closet for a lover, not now when heâs at the top of the Bollywood world,â Neel commented.
âWhatâs your problem, Neel? Iâve never seen you act this way. If Iâd known youâd do this, I wouldnât have told you the truth about where Iâm going. And what do you mean out of the closet? I never said that Rajan was gay.â Ajay shook his head. âIâll see you tomorrow at the stadium for practise.â
He shoved his way through the crowd, not really paying attention to who he ran into or if anyone was snapping a picture of him being rude to the dancers. All he wanted was to get out of the club and away from Neel at that moment.
Once he was outside, he flagged down a cab, then climbed in. He told the driver to take him to Cafe Pringa. As the vehicle pulled from the kerb, he spotted Neel bursting out of the club. Ajay grimaced at Neelâs crazy actions. There was something going on with his friend, but Ajay didnât have time to figure it out.
All he wanted to focus on was being able to see Raj in person for the first time since that unfortunate argument. Ajay rested his head against the cool glass of the window, and admitted to himself that he probably couldâve seen Raj a long time ago, if heâd returned any of the messages Raj had left on his phone. His stubborn pride and fiery temper made it impossible for him to say he was sorry.
With age came maturity and a certain amount of wisdom, and Ajay was finally ready to face the mistakes heâd made in the past. Maybe when he did that, heâd be able to move on and find something good in his future, though he doubted that whatever was waiting for him would be better than the perfect relationship heâd let slip away when he was young and foolish.
The cab stopped in front of Cafe Pringa, and Ajay sat, staring at the late night crowd. Did he have the courage to step out of the vehicle and go face the man heâd never forgotten? Could he find the strength to ask for forgiveness?
Raj had to have some kind of fondness for Ajay, if Ajay could use Rajâs actions of calling him back and agreeing to meet him as evidence.
âAre you getting out, sir?â
The driverâs question jolted Ajay, and he nodded. After paying the man, he shoved open the door, then climbed out. His phone beeped and he looked down to see a text.
âare you here yet? Found a table outside in the corner.â
Ajay could lie and say heâd gotten caught in traffic, or something had come up and he wouldnât be able to make it. He stared at the words as they shook slightly from the trembling of his hand. No. He wouldnât do that. It was time to face his past, and hopefully regain a friend who had meant far more than anyone else ever had.
Wednesday Work in Progress….
Here’s another little peek at Home Sweet Home. Next week, you might get a peek at A Sticky Wicket in Bollywood (if Devon agrees I can post a little bit of it..lol)
Excerpt: copyright c. 2013 T.A. Chase
Yancey didnât rush, even though he wanted to. He hadnât seen Juan in three months when Juan came to celebrate Yanceyâs graduation from vet school. He strolled into the arena, then leant against the wall as he watched Juan ride the big bay gelding in a tight circle.
He held his breath as Juan pointed the horse towards a double oxer about four feet three inches high. It wasnât the biggest jump set up in the arena, but it was one of the widest. It would force the horse to not only launch himself and his rider high in the air, and stretch out as far as he could over the jump without touching it with his hooves.
Juan made a kissing sound, and gave the gelding a little tap on the hip with his crop as they approached the jump. With a grunting heave, the horse threw himself off his feet, reaching out his head, and curling his hooves under him. Yancey bit his lip, saying a silent prayer that there had been enough power in the leap for them to clear the oxer.
One rail rattled in its cups as one leg rubbed over it, and Yancey winced at the thought of it falling. It had been a good jump, with almost perfect form from the horse. Juan didnât move a muscle, sticking to the geldingâs back like a burr. After landing with a thud, they continued on down the line over another jump built to look like a brick wall.
Yancey waited until Juan was heading towards him before he moved. Juanâs head came up, and Yancey saw the big smile crossing Juanâs face. He walked over to the centre of the arena where Juan was pulling his mount to a halt.
Juan nearly fell out of the saddle in his haste to get to Yancey, who caught him in a tight embrace.
âHoly shit, man. What the hell are you doing here?â Juan pushed him away, gripping his shoulders tight.
âI got in early this morning. Iâll explain the whole thing tonight at dinner if youâre not doing anything.â Yancey glanced over at the horse. âAre you done with him or do you need to ride some more? I can wait as long as it takes. Iâll be here awhile.â
âNo, Iâm done. He cleared the last two jumps, so we ended on a high note. Forman needs to build his confidence up, and this is a good way.â
After taking his arm, Juan led him and Forman out of the arena towards the training barn. Yancey helped Juan to remove the geldingâs tack, and while he put it away, Juan groomed Forman.
Yancey clipped a lead rope to the horseâs halter when Juan finished brushing him. He let Juan take Forman to a paddock where he allowed the gelding to go free. Forman took off, kicking and bucking as he raced across the ground to join the other horses at the end of the paddock.
He laughed as Juan raced over to him, and he wrapped his arms around Juanâs waist. Yancey picked Juan up before whirling him in a circle. Juan cradled Yanceyâs face in his hands, then pressed his lips to Yanceyâs.
Yancey kissed Juan back, licking his tongue along the seam of Juanâs lips, and he asked for entrance. After tilting his head, Juan opened to him. Yancey swept in, tasting Juan; remembering all the flavours heâd discovered throughout the years of kissing Juan.
Wednesday Work in Progress…
All right. So I’m only about 4-5k away from finishing Reserved for Him. I’m sure it’ll be done today and submitted. Yay! Then I’ll be starting Home Sweet Home, and India. Oh, and my GRL story. đ But hey, at least I can cross one more story off my list.
Today, I thought I’d share an excerpt from Reserved for Him. This is the only peek at it you get…lol…since it’ll be done today.
I hope you all have a great day, and enjoy the glimpse of Ion and Adrien.
Excerpt: Reserved for Him (copyright c. 2013 T.A. Chase)
He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants, then checked his reflection in the mirror by the door one last time. Ion opened the door with a smile, but his jaw almost hit the floor when he saw Adrien standing in front of him.
Seeing the man in suits all day at the office had told Ion Adrien had a sense of style and loved tailored clothing. Obviously Adrien stepped it up a notch when it came to going out on a date. The dark blue silky dress shirt he wore clung to him like a second skin. Adrienâs black slacks emphasised his muscled thighs, and Ion couldnât wait to see what it did to Adrienâs backside. The man oozed sex and charisma from every pore.
âIâm going to have to fight everyone off you with a stick,â Ion mumbled.
After Adrien strolled in, he swept Ion into his arms and kissed him. Ion forgot every worry and nervous thought he might have had as soon as Adrienâs lips touched his. He buried his fingers in Adrienâs hair, holding tight while Adrien overwhelmed him.
The only thought in Ionâs brain was how soon could he get Adrien into his bed, and was he hungry enough for food to leave his apartment. It wasnât until his lungs burnt from lack of oxygen that he decided to take a step back.
Adrien didnât let him break their embrace. He rested his forehead against Ionâs, and they slowed their breathing together.
âI want you, Ion. More than Iâve ever wanted another man before, and thatâs saying something.â
A small jolt of jealousy hit Ion, but he knew it was stupid to feel that way. Adrien was a mature male with money and power. Of course, he was going to have a lot of lovers before Ion. A tiny voice in Ionâs head said that he wouldnât be having any other lovers after Ion if Ion had any say in it.
âI want you as well, Adrien,â Ion admitted, not seeing the harm in confessing the obvious.
Adrien took a step back, leaving his hands at Ionâs hips. âBut I want us to have dinner together, and get to know each other better before we jump into bed. I think weâre looking for the same thing here, and it isnât a quick roll in the hay.â
Ion shook his head. âIt might seem odd, because Iâm not that old, but Iâm tired of the club scene and hook-ups. Maybe itâs because I have big plans for myself, and it doesnât seem like a lot of the guys I run into are interested in that.â
âMaybe you just needed an older man to see the possibilities with you.â Adrien dove in for a quick peck, then he gestured towards the door. âWe should be going. Our reservations are for eight oâclock and we donât want to be late.â
Ion grabbed his jacket, and all the rest of his things.
Wednesday Work in Progress…
I thought I’d give you one last excerpt from Leaving Home. I’m not sure which story I’ll be giving you next Wednesday. Also, you’re going to have to wait until next week to get two choices for the next blog story. I have a lot of writing to get done the rest of this week, and I have a very important personal matter to take care of this week as well. But I promise, next Tuesday and Thursday, you’ll get two blurbs or maybe scenes for you to choose from. Then I’ll start the next blog story the week after that. đ So be patient with me for a little while…lol
Here’s the excerpt: (Leaving Home copyright c. 2013 T.A. Chase)
After hanging up, Chaz tossed his phone onto the bed, then took his time stepping into the shower. Thank God he slept naked, or else heâd have had trouble getting undressed to clean up.
He took his time, letting the hot water soak into his lower back, and it worked in combination with the meds. Chaz was moving pretty well when he climbed out to dry off. He dressed quickly, then called to check and see if Frank was ready. They agreed to meet in the lobby in ten minutes.
Chaz put his shoes on before he dialled his mother. He stood next to the window, looking outside while he waited for her to answer.
âCharles, this is a pleasant surprise.â Her voice was full of happiness.
He frowned at her statement. âWhy a surprise? I usually call you when I can.â
âYou havenât called me in over a month, honey. Maybe two. I think you were finishing up in Las Vegas and called to tell me you wouldnât be coming home for the break.â
Wincing, he gave himself a mental slap on the forehead. How could he have forgotten to check in with his mom? And he must have ignored several of her voicemails as well since she wouldâve called to make sure he was okay.
âSorryâ was all he could think of to say. He couldnât explain what the problem was. Sheâd demand he retire and come home, and since he wasnât ready for that, heâd stay silent.
âIf I hadnât talked to Matthew a few times while you were quiet, I wouldâve panicked, but he told me you were okay. Just taking time off from everyone.â
The tone of her voice said she didnât understand why heâd want to take time off from his family, but she was willing to let it go as long as he was in contact with one sibling.
âSpeaking of Matthew, I called to tell you he was back in the states. He just landed a few hours ago, but heâs heading home to take a shower before hitting his bed for some uninterrupted sleep.â
Chaz kind of hoped Matthewâs guy would keep Matthew from sleeping for a little while at least, but he wasnât going to mention that to his mother.
His mother sighed in relief. âThank God. I hate when heâs out of touch, though he does manage to call once in a while. So we watched you on TV last night. You and Frank did a good job, but you seemed a little stiff. Are you doing all right?â
He loved his mother. âYes, Mom. Iâm doing fine. It was just I hadnât warmed up enough after not doing the job for a couple months.â
She hummed like she wasnât completely convinced he was telling the truth, but she let it slide. âGood. Now are you and Frank off to have some breakfast?â
Chuckling, Chaz said, âYes. You know our routine, though we might pick up some stranglers along the way.â
âAll right. Have a good event, honey, and Iâll talk to you in the next day or two.â
âBye, Mom.â
Chaz hung up, then tucked his phone away. He grabbed his wallet and sunglasses as he walked out of his room. After making his way down to the lobby, he looked around for Frank. He found his partner standing near the front entrance chatting with Cody Harwood.
âCody, I thought you werenât going to be riding any more,â Chaz said as he approached.
Cody and Frank turned to face him, and Cody smiled.
âIâm retiring after this event. I got an exemption, but I still canât ride. I donât have enough strength in my riding hand to grip the rope.â Cody flexed his right hand.
âThat sucks, man. Sorry to hear that.â Chaz slapped Cody on the shoulder. âYou want to join us for some breakfast?â
âSure. I need to be over to the arena an hour before the round starts to help with the bulls, but I could definitely eat.â
âGood. Letâs go.â
Chaz led the way out of the hotel, and they climbed into his truck. There was an IHOP down the road that he and Frank ate every time they came to Tulsa. He drove there, listening to Cody and Frank talk about guys they all knew.
Have a good Wednesday, everyone. đ
Wednesday Work In Progress…
I thought I’d share another excerpt from The Whore of New Slum before I submit it. Next week I’ll be sharing a little bit from Leaving Home, Peter’s story. đ
Excerpt: (copyright 2012 T.A. Chase)
Wendall gritted his teeth as he pushed through the crowd of people. The search parties were disrupting everything in New Slum, and Wendall found it annoyed him. Maybe if they didnât put Abdur in danger, or keep Wendall from seeing his sister, he wouldnât mind them so much. It was good business for the brothel. Oh the soldiers wouldnât be using any of the whores, but they would be buying drinks, and so would others whoâd stop by to talk about what was going on.
He jogged up the front steps of the hospital. After shoving open the doors, he greeted the nun at the desk.
âIâm here to see my sister. Please tell the Mother Superior that I would like to talk to her.â
âYes, sir.â The sister reached for the messenger to contact the Mother Superior.
Impatient to see Molly, Wendall didnât wait for the elevator. He ran up all three flights of stairs, barely winded when he reached the terminal ward. Wendall stopped to take a deep breath before going into his sisterâs room.
Molly might be dying, but he didnât want her to see him panicked in any way. She was a smart girl, and had to know what was happening to her. Wendall simply didnât want her to worry about him, and how he might be handling her death.
âHowâs my favorite girl doing today?â He bounded into the room with a bright smile on his face.
She offered him a weak grin in return. âIâm your only sister, so I have to be your favorite girl.â
âNot true, my darling. Not true at all.â
He fought back the tears, trying hard to continue to look happy while he could tell the toll the disease was having on her body. Her ravaged face looked almost skeleton-like. He swore sheâd lost more weight in the twenty-four hours since heâd seen her last.
Leaning down to kiss her cheek, he wrinkled his nose at the odor coming from Molly. It was a sure sign that she was dying, and her human form was wasting away. Her skin was fragile and dry like all life had been sucked from her.
âYou are looking ratherâŚâ He paused, unsure how to continue.
âHorrid is the word youâre trying to find.â Her laugh turned into a harsh cough.
Wendall rushed over to the side table, then grabbed the pitcher of water to pour a glass for her. After sitting on the side of the bed, he slid his arm around Mollyâs shoulders.
âLean on me while you drink,â he suggested.
Molly took a few sips before she pushed the glass away. âThank you. I canât seem to get rid of this cough, and I havenât been feeling good today.â
âThen you must not wear yourself out, love. Would you like me to brush your hair?â He retrieved the brush set on Mollyâs dresser, then returned to the bed.
After settling back against the pillows, he helped his sister to rest against his chest. Molly sighed as he ran the brush through her dull hair. All the tension in her body disappeared slowly with each stroke, and Wendall started to hum softly.
Memories of so many nights where he would brush Mollyâs hair before she went to bed danced through his head. Their mother had died when Molly was only three, and while their father was alive, Wendall could stay home to take care of his sister. Being six years old, he didnât want to take care of his little sister. He wanted to be out playing with his friends, but he didnât have a choice.
He thought he did a good job, and then he turned eighteen and his father died. Wendall was left having to support Molly all on his own. It was one of the reasons why he chose to go into the sex peddling business. The money he could make on his back could keep Molly in a nice apartment, which being in the Slum didnât mean much.
Wendall knew Molly appreciated everything Wendall had done for her, but sheâd been swept off her feet by a man who promised her so much more than she had. Then he left her when he went off to war, and by then, she was sick. So Wendall had managed to get a pass to go to New Island where he found Molly and brought her home.
Unfortunately, she was so ill, the only place he could take her was the hospital. He did his best to make sure she was as comfortable as possible. Wendall glanced down to see that at some point, Molly had fallen asleep.
Wiggling slightly, he rested his head against the pillows and closed his eyes. He ran through his activities for the next several days to come. There were a lot of things he needed to do, not just for The Pink Carnation, but for other meetings as well.
The Second Horseman has been released.
Book two in The Four Horsemen Series
Fighting the battle in his own heart, War must find peace before he can find love.
War destroyed an entire tribe of innocent people when he was human, all because his best friend lied to him. His guilt brings him a destiny he never planned. As the Red Horseman, War spends the centuries creating battles and wars between countries to restore balance in the world. While he accepts the job to atone for his sins, he wishes he didnât cause men to kill each other. War lives a solitary life, without hope of ever finding forgiveness.
From the mountains of Afghanistan to the plains of Kansas, and to the steppes of Mongolia, Russell Heinz searches for peace. Heâs battling survivorâs guilt after having two members of his army unit die within feet of him. His own mind shuts down, and Russell spends time in a mental ward, dreaming of a man with blood-red hair and all-black eyes. Unsure if the man is real or just a figment of his wounded mind, Russell heads to Mongolia, looking for forgiveness of his own.
Separately, Russell and War fight their own personal demons. Together, they find peace in a love tested by the fires of battle.
Reader Advisory: This book is best read in sequence as part of a series
Death-Blurb and Excerpt
Death, the Pale Rider and the most feared member of the Four Horsemen, has been searching through the centuries for a soul to save him from his solitary life.
In the 1700s, Gatian Almasia was rich and a sought-after member of Parisian society. No one realised heâd lost his reason for living three years earlier. When his sister accuses another nobleman of raping her, Gatian does what any older brother would do. He challenges the man to a duel, and kills him. Later that night, the dead manâs family takes their revenge on Gatian.
Gatianâs death is just the beginning of the journey he must take as Death, the Pale Horseman of Apocalyptic fame. While he doesnât regret taking the noblemanâs life, the guilt of not being there when his lover died builds a wall around his heart, and until he accepts forgiveness, he must always be Death.
Pierre Fortsecue is a spoiled rich young man whose heart is broken by the man he thinks he loves. Finding himself alone in Paris, Pierre sinks into a haze of heroin. He gets a tainted baggie of the drug, and almost dies from it. Death arrives to take his soul, and something about Pierre touches the Pale Horseman, who steals him away to help heal.
As Pierre heals and Death begins to feel again, they begin to wonder if love really is the only emotion needed to overcome desolation and destruction.
Excerpt:
His last thought was of Oliver, and he wished he would be seeing his dead lover soon, but Gatian knew he would be heading to Hell, not Heaven. Oliver had been innocent, and his only sin was caring for Gatian, not knowing what an utter bastard Gatian was.
* * * *
âGet up. We donât have time for you to lie about.â
The voice tore through Gatianâs mind, and he jerked straight up, looking around for his opponents. Frowning, he realised he wasnât in the alleyway anymore. The landscape surrounding him was barren, and looked like nothing Gatian had seen. He pushed to his feet, and turned slowly in a circle.
âAre you done?â
Finishing his circle, he glared at the slender silver-haired man standing there, his arms folded like he impatiently waited for Gatian to complete his circuit. Staring into the manâs blue eyes, Gatian barely swallowed his gasp as he noticed the colour filled the entire eye, with not pupil or iris.
âWho are you?â He often found attacking a person got him answers when they were more likely not to reply.
The man snorted. âYou may call me Lam. You have been chosen, and I have to show you what your new job is.â
âChosen? Where am I? I have never seen a place like this.â He motioned in a vague circle. âHow did I get here?â
âYou died in a back alley in Paris. Instead of being sent to wherever your judgement called for you to go, you were sent to me. Iâm pretty sure you wonât like what youâre about to do, but itâs none of my business. Iâm only here to teach you before you are sent out on your own.â
Lam whistled, and Gatian jumped when a pale grey stallion appeared out of thin air. The stallion snorted at him like it was saying hello. Gatian reached out to touch the horseâs nose. Jerking away from him, the horse shook its head. Obviously it wasnât interested in him petting it.
âThis is your horse.â Lam nodded in the greyâs direction. âNow that youâre Death, the Pale Rider, you need a mount.â
âDeath? Pale Rider?â Gatian repeated, confusion pounding in his head.
Gatian remembered what else happened before he woke up in the strange place. He stretched, searching for pain or broken bones. Yet nothing hurt, and there were no wounds or blood anywhere.
âIs there a reason why I have no wounds or torn clothes?â Gatian grasped Lamâs arms and shook the man. âWho are you, and why am I not dead?â
Lam didnât respond, and didnât try to break Gatianâs hold. He simply studied Gatian with a sardonic twist to his lips. Gatian found he hated Lam, if only for his calm reaction to Gatianâs yelling.
When his anger settled back into coldness, he let Lam go and stepped back. Heâd never gotten anything by losing his temper. He tampered all his questions and doubts down deep, and rested his hands on his hips.
âWhere are we going? And tell me again what a Pale Rider is?â
âNice try, my friend. I never told you once what a Pale Rider is, except that youâre the new one. You are dead, in the most fundamental way possible. You can never go back to your old life, and while all those you know will die, you will continue to live forever.â Lam paused, and tilted his head. âOr until you forgive yourself of all that guilt youâve been carrying around.â
âGuilt? What guilt?â
Lam grinned, and slapped Gatian on the shoulder. âYou can deny it all you want, but I can see it in the set of your shoulders, and the chill in your eyes. You did something you regret, and itâs been eating at you since it happened. Well, whatever it was, itâs brought you to this. As the leader of the Four Horsemen, you will be in charge of keeping the world in balance.â
Gatian shrugged. âI have no idea what you are talking about. Who are the Four Horsemen?â
âClimb on your horse, and come with me. I have a lot to teach you, and a short window of time to do it in.â Lam motioned to the grey stallion.
Should he go? Was this some sort of trick Gatianâs brain played on him? Could he be alive, but caught in his head somehow? Gatian swung astride the stallion, and smiled at Lam.
âLead the way, Lam. I am sure you will answer all my questions in due time.â
Lam narrowed his eyes at Gatian like he understood Gatian wasnât satisfied. Gatian kept his expression bland, not willing to give anything away. With a nod of Lamâs head, they disappeared.
Hope you enjoyed it. Have a great Friday and a wonderful weekend.
