Archive for Excerpts

Wednesday’s Work in Progress…




First of all, I have a post up at Amber Kell’s for her birthday bash. It’s a little snippet of Ronnie and Lucius from Embrace My Reflection and Bring Him Gold. Check it out here.

And secondly, I thought I’d post a little glimpse at From Yesterday, which is the third book in the Rupert’s Legacy series I have at MLR Press. The first two books are Joy of the Season and Replacing Memories. I think I shared something from this story once before when I started working on it, but it kind of got pushed to the back burner for some other stories. I decided to see if I can get it finished by the end of the year. (Which really isn’t that far off any more…lol)

So here you go:

From Yesterday copyright c. 2013 T.A. Chase

Carlos tightened his grip as Miguel snuggled closer. He rested his cheek on the top of Miguel’s head. “I’m supposed to text him when I get done visiting you. He lives here on the grounds, so I’m having coffee at his place.”

“You’ll tell me everything, right?” Miguel’s low request touched Carlos’ heart.

“Within reason, hermanito. You know I don’t kiss and tell, plus I don’t think Phillip would like me spilling all his personal business to people he’ll see every day.” Carlos leaned back into the cushions, humming softly.

He understood why Miguel had asked him that. His brother was never going to get another chance at romance or a date. All the advances science had made in the medicines for HIV/AIDS didn’t matter if Miguel’s body rejected them. The doctors had told them it would only be a matter of time now. The only thing they could do was keep Miguel comfortable and as pain free as possible. He was happy that they hadn’t given them a timeline.

Putting a timeline to dying was a horrid practice in Carlos’ opinion. Too many people gave up hope when told they only had four months to live. Carlos saw it as a nurse as well. Yet there were people who, when told they were going to die soon, fought with every ounce of energy in them and they live longer than doctors thought.

He wished Miguel could do that, but his little brother had been fighting most of his life. He was getting tired and losing hope. Carlos wanted to beg Miguel to keep up the battle, yet he knew it was for selfish reasons. He didn’t want to lose his brother. Not this soon when they both had so much life to experience.

Closing his eyes, Carlos relaxed, enjoying being with Miguel, even if they weren’t talking. It was nice to spend time together without having to worry about their family causing problems.

“Carlos,” Miguel murmured, causing him to open his eyes.

“Yes?” He shifted a little, pins and needles racing along his arm like it had fallen asleep.

“How long were we asleep?” Miguel moved away from him.

Carlos rubbed his eyes before checking his watch. “About thirty minutes,” he relayed the information. “Not very long, but I feel better.”

Miguel laughed, then yawned. “So do I, though I think I’d like to go and try to take another one in my bed this time. Walk me to my room? Then you can go have coffee with Phillip.”

“I can do that.”

They walked to Miguel’s suite where Carlos made sure his brother had everything he might want near the bed. Before he left, he turned to say, “Don’t forget. I’m still here. If you need me for anything, just text and I’ll come back.”

“Get out of here. If it’s not too late when you leave, you can stop back by to say good-bye.” Miguel motioned him out of the room.

“All right.” He shut the door behind him before strolling back to the front desk. Sarah was still there. “Miguel’s lying down in his room. I’m still going to be on the grounds, so if something happens, you can text me.”

“No problem, Carlos. I’m sure everything will be fine tonight.” Sarah smiled. “Have fun and tell Phillip I said hi.”

“I will.” He rushed from the building, not wanting to have to deal with any more comments about Phillip, even the purely innocent ones, which he wasn’t entirely sure Sarah’s was by the way.

Leaning against his car, he pulled out his phone then sent Phillip a text. A minute later, a message appeared on the screen.

B there in 5.


Carlos put his phone in his pocket, then let his head fall back as he soaked up the waning beams of fall sunlight. He’d been working a lot of hours lately, trying to store up time for when the inevitable happens.

“Are you okay?”

He jerked when a hand landed on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he saw Phillip standing in front of him. Carlos held his breath as Phillip reached out to rub his thumb over Carlos’ cheek. It was wet when he showed it to Carlos.

“I’m fine,” Carlos reassured him, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Just a momentary lapse. I can’t show them to Miguel yet.”

Phillip’s expression said he understood. “At some point soon, it’ll be time for you to share tears with him. When it comes, don’t hide them from Miguel. He needs to know he’ll be missed after he’s gone.”

Carlos threw himself into Phillip’s embrace. Burrowing his face into the man’s shirt, he sighed when Phillip wrapped his arms around him. They didn’t talk, simply breathed together, and Carlos discovered his heart easing away from the depth of despair threatening to suck him under.

Finally, he took a deep breath of Phillip’s clean scent, then stepped back. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Friday Question…




Sorry I’m late on this. I didn’t get to bed until like 5 this morning, so I’m kind of running behind…lol.

Gina asked on Monday, how did I keep writing from becoming a “have to” instead of using it as an escape from my day job?

That’s a tough one because there are times when I feel like I’m stuck having to write these stories that I’ve promised people, and yet I don’t want to. I want to chase after other plot bunnies that happen to hop into my brain to take me down the rabbit hole. Yet even the stories I have  to write can be fun.

But when I get to the point on any story where I feel forced to write it (and for some reason, my characters have decided to stop talking to me), I usually work on a different story. One that isn’t promised to anyone, or might not need to be worked on right at that moment. It helps keep things fresh in my mind. Also, it might help untangle a problem I’m having with the other story, which might be the entire reason why I was hating on it at the moment.

I do have a set amount of words I like to hit each day (around 2k), but if I don’t, I don’t beat myself up over it. Mostly because I figure I’ll be able to make it up on some other day when the words are really flowing for me. And I give myself time off from writing. I might take a day or two where I just sit around watching movies and reading. It helps recharge my creative molecules. 🙂

Does that answer your question, Gina? Do you have any follow up questions? And anyone else who might have a question for me is more than welcome to ask it, and I’ll do my level best to answer it.

I hope you all have a great Friday, and for those who celebrate it, Happy Dia de Muertos. Have a great weekend as well.

Wednesday Work in Progress…




Today’s WiP is Between Love and Hate. It’s a story I’m doing for Amber Allure and we already have the picture picked out for the cover. Yay!  I’ve been working on this one a lot lately because Kip and Si have been talking to me, even though I have a couple other stories that need to be finished…lol. Can’t help which character talks to me the loudest.

So here’s another little excerpt from Between Love and Hate. copyright c. 2103 T.A. Chase


After they ordered something to eat, she took a big breath, and asked, “Where were you for eighteen years?”

Stiffening, Kip set his fork down before he looked at her. “I was living a normal life. Since I was four, I’d been in movies and on TV. Nothing about my life could have been called typical. I decided I wanted to be a normal teenager for a while.”

Of course, that was a lie because by then he’d already started drinking to the point of being drunk most of his time. He’d moved out of his parents’ house, wanting his own freedom to do whatever he wanted. He had a lot of money, and his parents couldn’t access the majority of it. Thank God.

His drinking had been bad enough, then when he started doing coke and heroin, he began spending a lot more money. But still his accountant had managed to keep him from blowing through his entire earnings. Royalties were a wonderful thing, and even with him out of the public’s eye.

Kip had been lucky that once he disappeared from Hollywood, the paparazzi lost interest in him, so he didn’t have to worry about anyone finding out about his addiction.

“Mr. James, I know you entered a rehab facility two years ago. When you got out, you were cast in this movie by a director who was close to you when you were younger.” She leaned forward in her chair to stare at him.

He should’ve known she was just waiting for him to relax before she went for the jugular. Yet why did he feel ambushed? Kimberley did her due diligence to dig up what he’d been doing in those eighteen years, which is what any good reporter would do. Even an entertainment reporter could sniff out a breaking news story.

Taking a deep breath, Kip pursed his lips, trying to decide what he could say. It wasn’t like he wanted to lie about his past or being gay. Neither part of his life was a secret he wanted to keep. He knew a lot of people would think he became a druggie because he was ashamed of being gay, but it was simply the fact that he was young, bored, and fucking rich. There wasn’t anyone to stop him when he made the left turn straight into the abyss of chasing the dragon.

“You know, Kimberley, if you wanted to know about that time in my life, you could’ve asked me straight out. No need to lull me into a false sense of security. I’m not hiding that part of my past.”

“Then why hasn’t there been any mention of it before in any of the interviews you’ve done since you returned to Hollywood?” She folded her arms over her chest, looking like she didn’t completely believe him.

He laughed. “Because no one asked. Trust me, honey. I’m not interested in hiding anything. Not when doing so would damage my image, and what I’m going to tell you will make me more of a hero to all those kids who might look up to me.”

Kimberley sighed, and Kip couldn’t tell if it was because she’d heard the same ‘I have nothing to hide’ from other stars or because she liked his smile. He didn’t really care whichever one it was.

“I went into rehab two years ago because I was addicted to H and coke. I’ve learned not to be ashamed of the craving that strung me out to the point where the only living I was doing was when I was coming down from a high. Pain and need were the only emotions strong enough to convince me that I still existed in this shitty world going on around me.”

Kip fidgeted with the silverware on the table while he remembered the agony of going through detox. Letting go of the knife, he ran his fingers over his sleeve, feeling the bumps of the needle scars. The make-up people on the lot had a hard time covering them during the shoot, yet he never considered seeing if he could do anything about making them less obvious. They helped him remember where he’d been and just how far he’d fallen.

“When did you start using?” Kimberley shifted in her chair, a hint of excitement on her face.

Yes, she was getting a scoop, though it wasn’t anything Kip considered earth shattering.

“You know, this isn’t big news. There are a thousand stars who found themselves addicted to drugs or alcohol. I’m nothing new.” Kip had to point it out.

“True, but you’re the apple of Hollywood’s eye right now and you’re quite a mystery. A child star who disappears off the radar for eighteen years, then makes good when he returns to the movies.” She winked at him. “I need to capitalize on your popularity to help my career.”

At least she was honest.

“I started drinking when I was ten or eleven. Hell, it didn’t matter to a lot of people as long as they got to hang with me. Which sounds weird and pathetic, but there you go. Any notoriety is good for some people.” Kip shook his head when he thought about all the people in his entourage when he was younger. Not one of them tried to stop him either. As long as he was paying for everything, it was fine.

Wednesday Work in Progress…




Well it’s not about my WIP…at least not yet. Great news! Chasing the King of the Mountains is a Finalist in the Rainbow Awards. Of course, we’re going up against some very tough competition, so I’m not sure what the outcome will be. I’m still happy that we made it this far. 🙂

I thought I’d share with you another peek into Remove the Space. It’s been a while since I’ve done that and it’s the other story I’m working on along with Blindsided. So here you go. I hope you have a marvelous Wednesday.

Remove the Space copyrighted c. 2013 T.A. Chase


Stretching, Ion rolled onto his side and jumped when his arm made contact with another warm body. He opened his eyes to see Adrien lying next to him. Oh right! Second night together, and some of the best sex I’ve ever had.

Yet seriously, they’d talked about falling in love the first night they slept together, but Ion wasn’t convinced that Adrien would want to keep him around for long. Because really? What did Ion have to offer a man like Adrien?

Oh, Ion wasn’t ashamed of where he came from and the life he had, but he knew that there would be a lot of people who might think he was with Adrien simply because of the man’s money, and the possibility of what he could do for Ion’s career.

He thought about the offer Mr Richardson made him on Friday. Working for Mr Herner as a problem solver at Bellemy International was a dream job for him, and he was willing to be on probation until he graduated. He’d said yes, and Mr Herner said they would talk to Adrien on Monday, so Ion wasn’t going to mention it unless Adrien did.

“You’re thinking too hard for a Sunday morning.”

Ion refocused on the man in bed with him. Adrien was studying him with his bright blue eyes, almost like he knew what Ion was thinking. But instead of saying anything, Adrien slid his hand around to cup the back of Ion’s head, then drew him down to him.

Their lips met, and he let go of all the thoughts in his head. Why dwell on that stuff when he had one of the world’s sexiest men in his bed? Opening his mouth allowed Adrien to sweep his tongue in, and Ion moaned.

His cock twitched as he pressed as close to Adrien as he could without climbing under his skin. When Adrien encircled his waist with his other arm, Ion went with him, not fighting as Adrien encouraged him to lie on top of him. Ion ground their groins together, loving the feel of his lover’s erection rubbing against his.

Adrien bit his bottom lip, then sucked on it to ease the sting. Ion shuddered as he continued to moving, slowly becoming lost in the kiss and embrace. He’d had a bit of a dry spell in the ‘having sex’ part of his life.

Wednesday Work in Progress…



Yay! I’m finally going to share something with you…lol. It’s been a while because I was working on New York, which is finished and the contract signed. Woot!

Now I’m working on Blindsided, Book 4 of the International Men of Sports series. This one is rugby in Australia. 🙂 My guy is Liam Holmes, and he’s the rugby player. Devon’s guy is a lifesaver (lifeguard) at one of the local beaches.

So here’s a little excerpt from my part of Blindsided:

copyright 2103 T.A. Chase & Devon Rhodes

Liam raced through his house, grabbing shit from his kitchen table, then sniffing it before stuffing it into his duffle. Once all his practice clothes were packed, he set the bag down by the door before swearing softly to himself.

“Where did I put those damn boots?” He stomped through the rooms, trying to figure out where he’d tossed his boots after his last practice. Retracing his steps, Liam remembered he’d threw them in the corner of his bedroom. He’d been in a hurry to change into his bathers, and head to the beach.

He checked the clock, then went to collect them. After tying the laces together and hanging them around his neck, he bent to pick up his duffle, then headed outside. As he opened the door, two small figures dashed in.

Freezing, he blinked, trying to work out if he actually saw what he thought he saw. A noise caused him to turn, and there, in the middle of his living room, sat two kittens. One black and one orange.

“What the hell are you doing? This isn’t your house.” After walking over, he crouched down in front of them.

The orange kitten nudged his hand to get him to pet it. So he scratched its ears while studying the other one. The black kitten stared back at him like he was the one trespassing in its domain.

A horn honked outside, and he sighed as he herded them into his bathroom. It was the only place besides the bedrooms that had a door, and he didn’t want to leave them in the house while he was gone. He’d decide what to do with them when he got back.

After picking up his kit again, he left his house to see his teammate’s truck idling at the kerb. He waved at him before shutting then locking the door. Liam dashed down the walk to where Leon was.

“Hey mate, how’s it going?” He asked as he tossed his kit and boots in the bed of the vehicle before climbing in.

Leon grunted, but didn’t answer him. Liam wasn’t insulted or anything, since he’d learnt after riding with Leon for a week or so that the man didn’t really like to talk to anyone. It didn’t matter whether it was a new guy or some guy he’d known for the entire five years he’d played for the club.

“I appreciate you driving today. My ride needs new tires and shit before I can drive it.”

“No problem.” Leon put the vehicle in drive, then pulled away from the kerb.

“Do you know any bloke that wants some cats? Two just ran into my house, and I’m not sure they’ll be easy to get rid of.” Liam frowned as he thought about the two invaders.

Leon shook his head, but that didn’t surprise Liam. Leon was the most solitary man Liam had ever met. He’d been excited to find out that Leon only lived a few houses down from him on the block, figuring they would be able to hang out and he’d have a friend in Melbourne. Then he discovered that Leon didn’t socialize with anyone, so it was basically driving to and from the club.

He’d ask some of the other guys who had kids if they’d want a pet. His parents had allowed him to have all the pets he wanted, but playing rugby had taken up so much of his time while growing up that he didn’t think it was fair because he wouldn’t be around that much.

They got to the club, and after they parked, Liam grabbed his stuff out of the back. Then he followed Leon into the stadium where the club played. The locker room was loud as the men laughed and joked while they changed into their practice unis. Liam wandered through the milling crowd to his locker where he tossed his bag in.

He quickly stripped, then pulled on his own practice stuff. After tying his boots, he stomped his feet to adjust them. Looking around, he saw the other guys were gathering around to head out onto the pitch. He fell in next to Teo Maulo, one of the flankers for the club.

“Do you know anyone who wants a cat, mate,” he asked as they walked out onto the pitch.

Teo shot him a quick glance. “Why? You got cats to give away?”

As they started stretching, Liam nodded. “Yeah. Two of them just walked into my house like they owned the place just before Leon showed to pick me up.”

“Leon’s a bit of a piker, but he’s a good bastard,” Teo commented as he motioned to where Leon stood at the edge of the pitch. “Have to say though, I don’t know anyone who wants pets, but I can check with my family.”

Snorting, Liam said, “Thanks. I know you have a big bunch to talk to. I’m sure someone would like them.

Wednesday Work in Progress…




Thought I’d give you another peek at Teivel and To Hell With the Devil. 🙂 Re-reading this really makes me want to finish it…lol. Have to figure out how to fit it into my schedule to get done.

To Hell With the Devil copyright 2013 c. T.A. Chase


I shift on the hard seat of the horrific throne I was led to after I killed the devil.  I really need to get a grip on my temper because killing Achan had to have been the worst mistake of my entire stupid life. Now I’m surrounded by demons, imps and other denizens of hell. All of whom expect me to tell them what to do.

I sigh and rest my elbow on the arm of the throne, propping my chin on my palm.  Achan had seriously bad taste in furniture.  My new seat of power is made from human bones with skulls acting as feet for it. Sick twisted bastard.

My ass grows numb. I feel it spreading and flattening. Hell no. I might be stuck in this psychotic asylum, but I won’t let my body go to seed.  I’m brooding about how to get a gym down here when something tugs on my pant leg.

I stare down in astonished fascination at the horned toad talking to me. Who the hell knew toads grew to that size? It stands on two feet and its large gelatinous lips flap at me for a minute. I can’t understand a fucking word it says.

“What,” I ask as it stares at me with what I suppose is a look of anticipation.

Spit lands on my face when it speaks again. Wiping it off my cheek with disgust, I shake my head.

“I have no clue what you’re saying.” Looking around the room at the other hellish host, I point to the toad. “Do any of you have a fucking idea what he might be saying?”

Feet, hooves and claws shuffle. No one meets my gaze.  Damn my temper. I killed the only person who could have told me what I needed to know.

“Master, I might be of assistance.”

A high squeaky voice grates on my nerves and makes me grit my teeth.

“Not if you continue to talk like that you won’t.  Like fingernails on a chalkboard.” I feel a brush on my shoulder.  Nothing’s there. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m beside you, Master, but I’m merely a spirit and have no corporal body.” The shrillness of the voice has been tempered to a level I can tolerate. “You simply need to touch the imp and take his language into your head.”

“Simply? Of course, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Maybe you should have thought about your actions before you killed Achan, Master.”  There’s a hint of sarcasm in the disembodied voice.

Great. My assistant is a freaking comedian.

“No shit, Sherlock.  Just so you know, I don’t think before I act and I never apologize.  Understand those two things about me and we’ll be best friends.”  I grimace, reach out to lay the tip of one finger on the toad’s head.  “Is there a spell I need to intone or anything like that?”

“This isn’t a fantasy movie.  You think about what you want and it shall be given to you.”

“I want an overstuffed arm chair in a nice shade of periwinkle blue. One of my best colors.  This stupid throne is going to give me middle age spread and I’m not even in my late twenties yet.”

Swoosh. My ass sinks into the cushion of a blue armchair.  I grin. “This is more like it.” Wrinkling my nose, I touch the toad again. “I want to understand what this thing is saying to me.”

My head wants to explode.  Too much information appears in my brain. Jerking away from the toad, I fist my hands in my hair and moan.  Taking deep breaths, I calm down enough to get a grip on the words tumbling around in my head.  When I no longer want to cry out from the pressure, I sit back and stare at the toad.

“All right, Jeremiah, what do you want?”

The toad’s enormous cranium tilts like it’s puzzled by what I say.  “Who’s this Jeremiah?”

“He’s a bull frog.” I wave a hand. “Never mind.  What do you want?”

“I’m not a bull frog. I’m an imp.  I wonder if you would be willing to lift the curse on me.” A webbed appendage flaps at me.

“What did he do?” I lean closer to where I assume the spirit still hovers.

“He broke Achan’s favorite glass. It was the one he got at Disney World. It had Mickey Mouse on it.” The spirit’s voice seems to shrug. “He was unnaturally attached to that glass.”

“That’s fucked up.  Turning some guy into a horned toad for breaking a glass.”

“Yes. Well, it wasn’t really the breaking part that pushed Achan over the edge. It was more the trying to slit his throat with a shard of it part.”

I squint at the toad.  Its innocent expression doesn’t fool me.  “I think you need to stay in that form for a while.  Teach you not to mess with the master of hell, no matter who he is.”

I reach out and grip his slimy wrist in my hand, jerking the imp as close as I could stand him to be without passing out from his foul smell. “If it ever crosses your mind to try and kill me, be aware that I’ll simply kill you, not turn you into a toad.”

With a causal toss, I fling the imp across the room. Splat goes the toad, I think. A long suffering sigh issues from the non-existent person beside me. I glare at the spot where I think it stands.

Wednesday Work in Progress…




Hmm….I was trying to figure out what I could post here today. I’m in the middle of working on a  Tiffany story, so I don’t really want to post it here. Here is a snippet from To Hell With the Devil. I might have shared something from this story before, but I thought I’d give you the opening scene. 🙂 I like Teivel very  much. He’s snarky and a complete smart ass. He gets cranky when he realizes he’s the new Devil since he killed the old one. 🙂

To Hell with the Devil copyright c.2013 T.A. Chase


The throbbing beat of the music take over my body and drive me into a deeper trance. I love the dark sounds of the drums and the sexy murmurs of the singer, but the words disappear as I dance.  I don’t know if others watched me or not and in that moment of time, I don’t care.  I didn’t come to the club to get fucked, at least not tonight. I came to dance and wipe out the shitty day I had.  Tight leather pants, dark boots and see-through mesh shirt display my body to anyone who wants to look.

My eyes close, so I don’t see the man approach, but his heat surrounds my body as the stranger encircles my waist with his arm and tugs my ass back into his groin. A low moan rips from my throat at the feel of the large cock rubbing against my crease. Tilting my hips, I move to the music and beg like a slut for more.

Sharp teeth nip my ear and hot breath surrounds it.  “My name is Achan. I’ll make you come here, then when I get home, I’ll fuck you to death.”

A thrill of fear races through me as I laugh nervously, knowing the man is just joking, but Achan’s animal growl turns me on until I ache with need. I want one of those large hands on my cock and long for Achan to bury his prick in my ass.  The stranger slides his hand forward, then unbuttons my pants.

The music grows louder and faster. The rhythm takes over my heartbeat and my blood pulses to the beat. Sharp teeth scrape over my neck, causing me to lean my head back onto one of Achan’s broad shoulders.

“Not here.”

My weak protest makes Achan chuckle because we both know I don’t mean it.

The slightly cooler air of the club warm hot flesh as my cock springs free from its tight leather prison.  Achan shoves his left hand pushes up under my shirt, finding the gold rings in my nipples.  A hard tug brings a soft cry from me. Pain spirals from my chest down to where Achan’s right hand grips my cock and strokes.

Achan’s touch burns as his dry skin rasps harshly up and down my shaft.  Not even the pre-cum leaking from my cock eases his hold on me.  Each stroke and twist drives me closer to the edge.  Pleasure mingles with pain and my climax builds, pooling at the base of my spine.

Searing pain hits me as Achan sinks his teeth into the flesh at my shoulder and I cry out, coming violently. My cum coats Achan’s hand and the floor in front of me. Wilting, I stand only because Achan holds me.  His semen-coated fingers press against my lips. I lick my own spunk off Achan’s hand, humming at the salty bitterness dancing on my tongue.

Something wet trails down my chest and I glance awkwardly at my shoulder.  Achan has broken the skin and blood leaks from the bite. Whirling around, I stare up at Achan.  The swirling lights give his eyes an odd red glow.  He is five inches taller than my five-nine and built like a Greek god.

Ugh! I hate thinking in clichés, but there is no other way to describe him. Blond hair waves to wide shoulders and a muscled chest tapers down to a narrow waist, leading to thick thighs covered in white leather. My gaze trace over Achan’s body and land on the bulge at his groin.  A groan forces its way from my mouth and I wet my lips.  I’d sell my soul to taste what Achan hides behind those pants.

“You’ve already sold your soul.” His cruel grin scare me a little.  “Come with me.”

My brain screams at me not to go.  Foolish to leave with a stranger.  There are psychos everywhere.  My body craves what Achan has with singular passion. I’ve had sex with strangers before in worse areas of the city than this.  Self-preservation means nothing to me when I have a chance to ride a man like Achan.

I pause long enough to tuck my soft dick back into my pants and fasten them. He holds out a rough hand. I take it with the feeling that when we leave the club, my life will never be the same.  I give myself a mental shake.  Silly fag.  No kind of sex is life-changing.

“First, we must have a drink.” He gestures to a table where two glasses sit with a bottle of some liquor.

I shake my head.  I don’t drink as a general rule.  Too easy to lose your head and forget shit.

“A small drink. Then I’ll take you home and show you untold pleasures.”

His deep voice rubs over my skin and my cock twitches in interest.  I am such a slut. I want to feel him inside me and will do anything to have that. I grab the glass he holds out to me and swig the liquid down.  It burns.

“Fuck, what is that?”  I cough.

A large finger presses against my lips and he shakes his head. “No talking.”

Is he serious?  I shoot him an incredulous look. No way can I make it through the whole sex thing without saying something. Hell, my mom swore I talked the minute I came out of the womb.

He gets blurry and I blink. What the fuck?  Alcohol doesn’t usually affect me that quickly. I stagger, reaching out to grab a hold of something.  He catches me with ease, lifting me in his arms. As my vision fades, I see a flash of madness in his eyes and I realize I picked the wrong night to come to the club.

Wednesday’s Work in Progress…




First off, if you’re interested, I posted a snippet of the Tiffany book I’m working on over at my Tiffany blog. 🙂 Check it out here.

Second of all, this snippet I’m posting for you is from a story titled A Thin Line Between Love and Hate. It’s for a specific submission call from Amber Allure. When you see the cover for the story, you’ll understand the title better. 🙂 To be honest, I can’t wait to get the story written, just to be able to show the cover to everyone…lol. It’s going to be amazing. Plus I think I might see if I can’t get Kissed by the Gods and this story combined in one print book.

Anyway, I hope you all have a great Wednesday…and remember tomorrow is the last installment for Hearts. Then I’ll pull it down….add more to it and send it to Amber Allure. Hopefully for release later this year.

Here’s the excerpt:

A Thin Line Between Love and Hate copyright 2013 T.A. Chase

“We used to be friends,” Pauly whined.

Si nodded, but didn’t move away from where he stood next to the front door. It was the only exit out of the apartment, and Si wasn’t willing to lose that feeling of freedom. He needed to get his stuff and get out because the heroin was calling to him. He knew Pauly would have a bag or two hidden somewhere in the place.

His hands shook as want tore through him. Christ!  It’d been thirteen months since his last hit, yet the addiction clawed at his stomach and soul, demanding to be fed. An addict might go through rehab and get the drugs out of his system, but the craving was always there under the surface.

“How come we ain’t friends no more?” Pauly asked, his yellow-tinged gaze almost eating into Si’s resolve.

“I don’t shoot up any more, Pauly. Can’t stay clean while hanging out with the people who hooked me in the first place.”

The rehab place hadn’t taught him that. An ex-junkie who befriended him at NA-Narcotics Anonymous- had warned Si about the pitfalls of old friendships.

Pauly grunted as he staggered to his feet. Si dodged his grasping hand, knowing if Pauly touched him, he’d be sucked back into the love/hate relationship he had with H. Si snorted softly. Hell! All of his relationships were love/hate, even the one he had with himself.

Before Pauly could corner him, three women walked into the apartment. Jambrea, Lila, and Angela took in the scene.

“We got worried,” Jambrea informed him. “Do you need help?”

More than you’ll ever know. He simply nodded, then said, “Keep an eye on Pauly while I get my stuff.”

Pauly looked confused. “What stuff? I sold all your shit.”

“I figured, but I hid the important things before I went to jail.”

Lila glared at Pauly. “Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”

Knowing the girls could take care of themselves, Si headed toward the room that used to be his in that shithole apartment. He’d created a hiding place in the ceiling of his closet. It was where he’d stashed the only two things it would’ve hurt to lose. After prying the tile out, he slid his hand into the hole, praying no one had found it. He breathed easier when his hand encountered a piece of fabric.

Si pulled the items from the ceiling, then without looking at it, he left. He gathered the ladies with a glance, and they walked out of the apartment. He didn’t look back, not even when Pauly called his name. Pauly and that apartment were things of the past.

“You can’t get clean if you’re always looking back,” Kip, the ex-junkie, had told him.

Si remembered the night Kip had told him that. Need for H had been riding him hard, and when Kip had called to ask him to meet for coffee, Si had jumped at the chance. By the time the sun rose, and it was time to go their separate ways, Kip had talked Si down. Si had gotten the desire to shoot up under control.

That night had been the last time Si had seen Kip. The next day he was gone, and Si worried that Kip had fallen back into the same old habits and crowds that had strung Kip out, and nearly destroyed him in the process.

Wednesday Work in Progress…



I thought I’d give you another peek at Always Ready, my Coast Guard/crab fisherman story. 🙂 I’m finally getting to the exciting part…and that’s not the sex…lol.  Hopefully it’ll be done by the weekend. Enjoy!

Always Ready copyright c. 2013 T.A. Chase


“Yes, I did. I heard about the call you guys got last week. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

Dean shifted, moving a little closer to Phil. “There was nothing we could do. He’d been in the water for too long. I hate jumping into the water, only to lift a body out of it.”

Phil hugged Dean tightly. “I know, love, and you haven’t slept a wink since then, have you?”

“I keep seeing his face. I hate that part of the job, yet I wouldn’t do anything else for all the money in the world.”

“I know.”

He felt the same way about crab fishing. Being out on the deck of a crab boat was one of the most dangerous jobs in the world, but he loved it. The freezing temperatures, the lurking danger just waiting for a chance to bite him in the ass thrilled him almost as much as getting fucked by Dean did. Yet before he met Dean, Phil would’ve said that his job was the most exciting thing in his life.

“Why don’t you sleep for a little while?”

Dean didn’t reply, but Phil felt the way his breathing had slowed and deepened, clueing Phil in on the fact that Dean had fallen asleep. Phil wasn’t worried though. When Dean woke up in the middle of the night, reaching to take him again, Phil would spread his legs for him, and enjoy every minute of lost sleep.

They had all weekend to fuck and talk. Phil hadn’t wanted to bring up the unsuccessful rescue attempt, but he also didn’t want Dean to think Phil didn’t care or didn’t pay attention to what was going on in Dean’s life. They didn’t get to see each other every day like most couples, and Dean rarely talked about his missions: good or bad.

Phil had figured out that it was just Dean’s way. The man never bragged about his job, and how he went into harm’s way every mission to save another human’s life. Dean didn’t see himself as a hero. He was simply a man doing something he was good at, nothing more and nothing less.

Most Coasties didn’t think of themselves as heroes, but there wasn’t a crabber in Alaska who wouldn’t buy one of them a drink if they ran into a Coastie at a bar. Phil had run into his share of arrogant rescue swimmers who thought they could conquer the Bering Sea. All of them had come to learn the harsh truth about that area of water.

She could be never be tamed or broken to man’s will, not by any paltry human, no matter how smart or strong.

As Phil listened to Dean breathe, he thought about the only female he would ever love. To most, the Bering Sea was simply a body of water, separating North America from Russia. But to those who lived along her shores and made their living upon her water, she was a glorious female with all the nurturing aspects of a mother and the capriciousness of a tease.

Actually, the Bering Sea was a raging bitch, and no man could predict what she was going to do day-to-day, much less minute-by-minute. Phil had grown up on a crab boat, and had spent most of his life out on the sea. He’d seen the sun rise over water as smooth as a piece of blue glass, and that same sun would set on a hurricane with winds pushing the ice against hulls as if it was hell bent on crumbling the steel like paper.

Boats were overturned during storms like that, and the Coasties were the only people around to fly into the howling winds to find the men left floating in the freezing water. Sometimes when Dean jumped into that soul-chilling liquid, he got there in time and they would wench the survivor up to the helicopter in a harness.

Other times, they were too late to save anyone. Sometimes, the men who went into the water from their boats never climbed out of it. Their bodies never returned to their families, and those were the ones that haunted Dean while he slept. Phil knew that only because of one night they’d spent together in Juneau.

They’d fallen asleep after some mind-blowing sex, then Phil had been awakened by Dean’s mumbling and thrashing around the bed. He’d reached out to shake Dean awake, but then he’d heard Dean whisper, “I couldn’t save him.”

A cod fishing boat had sunk off the coast a few days before they’d met up in Juneau, and Dean had gone on that mission. The word had gone through the fleets of crabbers and fishermen that three men were lost. The Coasties had saved the other two, but the three men hadn’t had time to put on their immersion suits before hitting the water. And even during the summer, the Bering Sea was cold, so going into it was a death sentence if not rescued soon enough.

Dean’s comment said while he was still asleep made Phil understand that each man lost haunted Dean. His lover rarely celebrated the ones he saved. Phil asked him once how many successful rescues he had. Dean had shook his head and said he only counted the ones lost.

Wednesday’s Work in Progress…




Okay…so I finished Dream Part five yesterday. Yay! Now I can get working on my coast guard story, Always Ready. I know I shared a snippet of it with you a while ago, but I’m really hoping to get it finished by the end of the week. We’ll have to see how that goes. Also, I have to work on Blindsided, the 4th book in our Sports series. 🙂

Instead I thought I’d share a snippet from a story titled Lyva’s Chance. It’s the first in a four book series that I’m trying to find the time to write…lol. Goodness knows when that will be. 🙂 It takes place in a world where vampyres and lycans are known to exist, plus there are other things in the world worse than those two species. 🙂 Now I wrote this a while ago, so when I get around to finishing it, I’ll have to go back through and clean it up.

Lyva’s Chance copyright c. 2013 T.A. Chase


The half-breed growled and maybe that small act of defiance in the face of certain death made me do what I did. Maybe it was because I saw a little of myself in the outcast. More than likely it was because I was fucking tired of listening to them piss and moan about what was happening. They were going to take their anger out on a weakened creature.

Pushing away from the wall, I placed myself between Oliver and the injured wolf.  The Alpha bared his teeth at me and snarled.  I didn’t posture or try to act tough.  I stood calm and solid on my feet.  I didn’t invite an attack, but I wasn’t going to back down if one came my way.

“This is why they’ve herded us into camps. This is why they think they’re better than us. We prove our animal nature each time we turn on our own. If you wish to kill, you must wait until he heals.”

“Who are you to stand between an Alpha and his prey,” Oliver growled.

“I’m no one.”

I wasn’t going to tell them the truth. Whirling, I scooped the breed over my shoulder and stalked from the building.  The speed of my departure must have shocked them because no one came after us.  I carried the younger lycan through the camp, keeping to the shadows. The guards never bothered me.  I used my power to conceal our presence from them.

I made it to my den without incident. My den was a cave in the side of the mountain that created a natural barrier for the camp.  I guess the mortals figured none of us would try to climb the sheer rock face. They were right about that but there were caves with tunnels winding through the mountains leading out of the camp to freedom.  I’d investigated them all.  Escape routes were planned for when I needed to leave.

I laid the breed down on my bed.  As I stripped what was left of his clothes off, I called to my sister.

“Larissa, I can feel you. Come and help me.”

The kid groaned as I eased a piece of fabric from a deep wound.

“What lost cause have you decided to champion now, dear brother?” Larissa’s pale hand dropped on my shoulder.

“Draw some water and purify it. There is a spring in the cave behind this one. Go through that tunnel.” I gestured with my head towards the back of my den.  While I gave her orders, I catalogued his wounds.

Most lycan healed quickly, but it was possible the young man’s half-mortal blood slowed the healing process. Larissa knelt beside me with a bowl of water and some towels.

“Can you start washing the blood off? I need to see if there is any internal damage.”

Larissa nodded. Surprise jolted through me. My sister wasn’t shallow or unfeeling, but she was fastidious. She didn’t like getting her hands dirty.

I caught the gaze of the injured man. His green eyes were hazy with pain. Yet I could see he understood what was going on.

“I must enter your body to see if there is any damage internally. Unless you can tell me,” I explained.

A slight negative move of his head told me he couldn’t. Placing my hands on his chest, I closed my eyes. I hated healing. Leaving my body and entering another scared me on a deep level. A level I’d never told anyone about. I feared I would never return to my own body.

I sank into the bone and flesh of the lycan beneath my hands. Racing through his body, I found bruises and tears, but no life threatening damage. A darkness hung over the part I called the soul. I didn’t see that part of people very often when I healed them. None of the injuries were ones I felt the need to heal.  Time would take care of them all. I pulled away slowly, leaving just a little energy behind to help his body.

Opening my eyes, I saw his widen.  Mine must have been glowing.  Larissa finished cleaning his body as I started to bandage his wounds. His gaze slid from me to my sister.  A gasp burst from his lips and he cringed away.

“She won’t hurt you.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “Sleep and heal.”

Sending a little more energy into him, I pushed him to rest.

There wasn’t much fight left in him. With a soft whimper, he fell asleep. I motioned for Larissa to follow me as I moved closer to the front of the den.

“What happened to him, brother?” Larissa sank with effortless grace to sit beside me. I hunkered down and stared out into the darkened camp.

“The mortal guards caught him and roughened him up. They dropped him at the building where the Alphas were meeting.  Oliver was going to finish the job and kill him.  He’s a half-breed. Mortal father and lycan mother.  It seems neither side wants him.” Nothing moved in the waning hours of the night.

The mortal guards feared the dark. Stranger creatures than lycan haunted the shadows.  Turning to look at Larissa, I acknowledged that I was one of those creatures.

Larissa was my half-sister if anyone wanted to get technical.  I was a half-breed.  Only my mother was vampyre and my father was lycan.  Larissa’s mother fell in love with my father and somehow God allowed their union to bear fruit.

Larissa’s pale eyes studied me. “Are you sympathizing with him?”

I didn’t want to answer her. “How did you get in here?”

“You’re dodging the question. There are no walls capable of keeping me out just as these walls can’t keep you in. I’ve never understood why you choose to stay here with these animals.”  Larissa waved an elegant hand towards a slinking shadow.

My eyesight was far keener than a normal lycan.  The shadow sharpened into a mortal guard making his way from where some of the females lived.  I shook my head. Danger can drive a man to do things he might not otherwise do.  Time would show the guard what messing with the lycan females could do to a human.

“Who is the animal?”

“Stop. Both are animals. They kill their weak and destroy any who are different.” Anger burned in her eyes.

“Vampyres do the same, Larissa.  Every species on this planet feed off pain and weakness.” I sighed.

It was an old argument we had.  Larissa grew up in our mother’s Enclave where those who were different were welcomed.  Freaks were given the chance to flourish. I applauded their openness and ability to love. I grew up in my father’s world. The lycan scorned differences. The strongest always ruled and the weak swallowed their pride or died.

Weakness never found a place in me and I could never swallow my pride.  Outcast and lone wolf, I lived as I chose. When I got lonely, I’d head for my mother’s home. There was always someone willing to spend time with a surly wolf.

“I stay here because I know something important is going to happen. All my visions tell me I need to be here.” I flexed my hand. The bones had knitted back together after the guards broke it, but it still ached on nights like this. The pain served as a barometer for the tension in the camp.

“Do you stay because of him?”  She gestured to the sleeping form behind me.

Shrugging, I admitted, “I don’t know, sister dear.  I have never seen his face in my visions.  I’ll know soon enough. When the geas holding me here releases, I’ll leave.”

“Good. Mother and your father are worried about you. Have you fed tonight?” Larissa stood.

I gained my feet as well.  “Tell Mother and Father I’m fine.  My reason for being here will be over soon and I’ll join you at the Enclave.” I hugged her. “I ate earlier.”

“Not that rotten crap the mortals give the others?” Worry crept into her voice.

“No, I left the camp. I brought down a deer.  Good thing I did. The boy won’t be able to stomach the shit they give us.” I pointed to the back where the tunnel to the larger cave was. “I keep it back there in case the guards come while I’m gone.”

Dawn painted the sky the faintest pink.  “You should go.”

Larissa smiled.  “Watch your back, brother. I think it’s a dangerous game you play. If you need anything, you know how to find me.” She brushed a kiss over my cheek and disappeared.

As the sun peeked over the horizons, I set my safe guards.  I’d be warned if someone approached the den.  I checked my guest. He seemed to be sleeping deeply so I covered him with my blankets.

Stepping back, I let the change take me over.  Settling into my wolf form was like coming home. I was most myself as an animal. I curled up between the cot and den opening. If someone managed to get past my traps, they wouldn’t be able to get past me.

Sleep was a long time coming for me.