Taste of Kiwi

The theme this week is friendship. Quite a few of my stories deal with friends and friendship, but today I’ve chosen an excerpt from Fallen Idol. This is a m/m story about a man who has fallen in love with his best friend. There was no future for a relationship and they drifted in different directions. This excerpt shows their first meeting in a long time.

Fallen Idol by Shelley Munro

His palms were sweaty so he wiped them on his black trews. Rafi laughed at himself, his nervousness at seeing Roberto again. They’d been friends since they were kids growing up in Melbourne and had met at the education center. Roberto hadn’t cared about the color of his skin or about his mother’s racy reputation.

They’d liked one another immediately, having a lot in common. One of them more so than the other, Rafi thought with a wry twist of his lips. He’d fallen in love with Roberto while his friend had fallen in love with Fifi Da Groux and gone out on the Sex Idol circuit with her. Roberto had broken Rafi’s heart and hadn’t even known it. They hadn’t seen each other for two years, but Rafi had thought of Roberto every day since they’d said goodbye. Sap.

“Nah,” he muttered, shaking his head to negate the thought. “Just goes to show you I have good taste.” And was weird for talking to himself.

Rafi entered the apartment foyer, wrinkling his nose at the scent of overcooked vege rations and scorched soy meat. The interior wasn’t much better than the outside. Rundown and only suitable for those on the lower income scale. Rafi couldn’t understand why the great Roberto Azam was living here when he could afford so much better.

Roberto. Rafi pictured the man he loved. Tall and golden-skinned. Broad shoulders. A slim waist that tapered down to a tight butt. Rafi imagined stroking his hands across Roberto’s golden skin and shivered. His cock chose that moment to react to his lusty thoughts. Ah, but Roberto was worth it. His muscles rippled when he moved and Rafi knew his friend didn’t go in for body sculpting salons and artificial stuff. Those hard muscles were a combination of good genes and honest exercise in his father’s warehouse when he was a teenager.

Rafi thumped on the button to call the lift but nothing happened. Shrugging, he searched for a stairwell to reach Roberto’s flat on the fourth floor. As he climbed the stairs, Rafi thought about the amount of fuel he’d need to fill his spaceship for the trip to the outer territories. Anything to help his erection subside and save embarrassment. Roberto didn’t know how Rafi felt about him, and Rafi intended to keep the status quo. All he needed to do was get through this visit. Masochist that he was. Roberto was his friend. He was happy with Fifi. Rafi needed to accept that and move on with his life.

After climbing the dark stairwell, he exited on the fourth floor. There were six apartments on each floor. Rafi stalked down the wide passage toward number four, anticipation and apprehension skipping around inside him. Hell, seeing Roberto again was going to put him back at square one, ripping the scars from his wounded heart. But the idea of not seeing him—that was even worse.

He turned the corner and came to a halt. A pyramid of empty vroom flasks littered the passage outside number four. Rafi frowned and strode to the door. Vroom was a rough liquor produced on the planet Marchant. People became addicted to it if they weren’t careful. Eyesight was affected. In extreme cases blindness occurred along with lack of coordination and muscle wastage. The muscle melted away, replaced by excess fat. Rafi checked the pile of bottles again and shook his head. Surely this pile didn’t belong to Roberto. He knocked on the door.

“What the hell do you want?” a masculine voice demanded. “Go away.”

Rafi pounded a little harder, a tiny grin playing across his lips. Roberto’s voice. Familiar, it brought back memories. The husky growl still made his cock jump with anticipation. Rafi’s grin died. Friend’s box, remember? Roberto wasn’t interested in him in that way and all the wishing in the world wouldn’t change the facts.

“Go the fuck away!” Roberto’s rough voice rumbled through the door, slightly slurred but definitely recognizable.

Rafi shuddered at the abrasive texture of his friend’s sexy reply. He’d never met a male who turned him on so quickly with just a word. After taking a deep breath, Rafi knocked again.

The door flew open.

“I told you before, man. I have nothing left. You’ve taken everything.”

Rafi gaped at his friend. He was still tall and dark, but the bronzed god from his memory had vanished. Roberto was pale as a ghost. An overweight ghost. His muscles had disappeared, sinking into inches of blubbery fat. The sight of Roberto’s bare chest and protruding gut made Rafi faintly nauseous so he glanced at his friend’s face instead. His dark hair was long, scruffy and lank as though it hadn’t been washed for weeks. And his face—hell, his beautiful face was bloated and puffy. One bloodshot blue eye scowled at him while the other was black and almost swollen shut. Roberto’s jaw was swollen too, and when Rafi studied his body again, he noticed bruises. Someone had bashed his friend and done a pretty good job of it.

“Roberto,” Rafi said. He stood in the open doorway, uncertain for once in his life. He still didn’t know where to look. Didn’t Roberto have some clothes? That belly…it… Hell! It needed camouflage. Really badly. Rafi stared with fascinated horror as Roberto’s belly jiggled when he inhaled.

His crew would have gaped with open mouths if they’d seen their captain appearing so indecisive. In the past, the two men would have exchanged a quick hug and clapped each other over the back. Rafi would have savored the moment as he usually did. He’d imagined the feel of Roberto’s arms around him from the moment he’d decided to look his friend up between trips to the outer territories. Instead, there was awkwardness. Rafi didn’t know what the hell to do. It was difficult looking at that blubber, but touching it?

He shuddered inwardly and continued to hover outside the apartment. Part of him wanted to leave, to run away, but no, he couldn’t do that. He refused to run away. His legs remained firmly planted outside the apartment while his mind told him to deal with it. No matter what, or how he looked, Roberto was still his friend.

“Rafi?”

Rafi tensed and steeled himself, forcing his real feelings deep so nothing showed from the outside. “Yeah, man. I stopped by the Gratham Apartments. One of the security men said you’d moved here.” Not bad. His voice had sounded calm. Even.

“I don’t suppose you’d leave if I asked you?” A tinge of shame colored Roberto’s cheeks and his gaze slid away to stare at the floor.

Rafi forced himself to look his friend in the face. He was so…so… Hell, he reminded Rafi of a bloated whale. His gaze flitted across Roberto’s face before darting over his friend’s shoulder to study what he could of the apartment. Another heap of opaque vroom flasks lay beside a wooden chair. The apartment was filthy and offended Rafi’s nose. Soy dog wrappers littered the cheap plastic table. An open suitcase lay on the floor and the contents were strewn across the grubby gray floor in haphazard heaps. Rafi gave a cautious sniff before frowning. The smell could be coming from Roberto. He wasn’t certain, but whatever the source, it was disgusting.

Rafi straightened and forced himself to look Roberto in the face again. “Why would I leave? Roberto, I came to see you.” Roberto was his friend, and he was a friend in need.

Purchase Fallen Idol from Ellora’s Cave or Amazon Kindle.

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

Mari Carr
Shelley Munro
Vivian Arend
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
Ashley Ladd
Emma Petersen
TJ Michaels
Lauren Dane
Eliza Gayle

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Seeking Kokopelli goes on sale today at Samhain Publishing.

Love never hits a wrong note.

Ever since Nate McKenzie hired on as a roadie, musician Adam James has lusted after him. So far Adam has kept his distance, knowing Nate is mourning his dead wife. But lately Adam has caught the man returning his stares. Maybe it’s time to test the waters.

Besides, there isn’t much chance Nate will find out that Adam was once his people’s Kokopelli. His powers were stripped from him, along with the magical tattoo on his chest, when his orientation was discovered.

Nate is going crazy with guilt. Before his wife’s death, he never looked at anyone else, woman or man. Now his dreams are filled with Adam. He tries to keep his mind on his job and off Adam’s sexy body, but in a moment of weakness they share a kiss that sends them both up in flames.

Their relationship risks both their hearts and Adam’s female fan base, but the attraction is too strong to ignore. Then someone takes a shot at Adam—and his tattoo begins to reappear, forcing him to come clean with his lover. And Nate to decide exactly where his future lies…before a killer steals it away from them.

Warning: This book contains rockin’ music, smoky pubs, the mystical legend of Kokopelli and lots of playful, hot manlove.

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I have a new release called Seeking Kokopelli out at Samhain on Tuesday. As the title suggests, my romance incorporates the legend of Kokopelli.

Thirteen Things About Kokopelli

1. Kokopelli has been a sacred figure to Native Americans of Southwest America for thousands of years.

2. He’s found in several Native American cultures such as the Hopi, Anazasi, Taos and Acoma.

3. He’s a flute player who is traditionally shown with a humpback.

4. He’s also known as a fertility figure.

5. He’s also a trickster and is very mischievous.

6. Kokopelli often displayed a long phallus, symbolizing the fertile seeds of human reproduction.

7. Some people think the hump is actually a bag of gifts or seeds that Kokopelli plants each spring. Some people think he carries babies in his hump and hands them out to women. This means he’s not popular with young women.

8. It’s said that Kokopelli would visit a village and on leaving the next morning all the women of marriageable age would be pregnant.

9. One of his other duties was changing winter to spring.

10. It’s said you can hear Kokopelli’s flute on the spring breeze.

11. Petroglyphs show that Kokopelli has been around for many thousands of year.

12. He was a flute-playing Casanova.

13. My book Seeking Kokopelli is due for release on 29 June.

Love never hits a wrong note.

Ever since Nate McKenzie hired on as a roadie, musician Adam James has lusted after him. So far Adam has kept his distance, knowing Nate is mourning his dead wife. But lately Adam has caught the man returning his stares. Maybe it’s time to test the waters.

Besides, there isn’t much chance Nate will find out that Adam was once his people’s Kokopelli. His powers were stripped from him, along with the magical tattoo on his chest, when his orientation was discovered.

Nate is going crazy with guilt. Before his wife’s death, he never looked at anyone else, woman or man. Now his dreams are filled with Adam. He tries to keep his mind on his job and off Adam’s sexy body, but in a moment of weakness they share a kiss that sends them both up in flames.

Their relationship risks both their hearts and Adam’s female fan base, but the attraction is too strong to ignore. Then someone takes a shot at Adam—and his tattoo begins to reappear, forcing him to come clean with his lover. And Nate to decide exactly where his future lies…before a killer steals it away from them.

Warning: This book contains rockin’ music, smoky pubs, the mystical legend of Kokopelli and lots of playful, hot manlove.

Do you enjoy stories that incorporate myths, legends or fairy tales?

Sources:
www. jowsey.com/kokopelli/kokopelli.html
www.kokopelli.com/whowaskok.html

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My guest today is Bonnie Dee, one of Carina Press’s launch authors. Bonnie’s story really caught my attention because, not only is it a historical and inspired by the story of Tarzan, but it’s set in Congo Free State. Several years ago now, my husband and I did an overland trip through Africa and we spent some time in Zaire, as it was known then. We also visited the gorillas in Rwanda so Bonnie had me from the start. I’ve purchased her book but edits keep getting in the way! Anyhow, over to Bonnie…

Bonnie Dee here, author of JUNGLE HEAT, a m/m historical now available at Carina Press. Below is the blurb…

Congo Free State, 1888

On a mission deep in the jungle, Oxford anthropologist James Litchfield comes face-to-face with a local legend: a wild man who wanders with mountain gorillas and lives as one of their own.

The chance encounter with the savage, whom James calls Michael, leads to a game of observation and exploration. Their mutual curiosity turns to an attraction; one that Michael has never experienced and James is desperate to deny.

When members of the expedition unearth James’s secret discovery, a living specimen of man at his most primitive, Michael becomes a pawn in their quest for fame.

As their relationship deepens, James is compelled to protect Michael from the academics who would treat him as nothing more than a scientific acquisition and London society, which threatens to destroy their passionate bond.

1. Did you always want to be a writer or did the need to write creep up on you?

When I was a child I wanted to be a writer, I still have a story about a ghost, a witch and a talking cat on a yellow legal tablet which I wrote in second grade. I read all the time and just knew I’d be a writer some day. But by the time I’d finished college the dream had dimmed and reality set in. I had to have a money-earning job and I soon had a family that required lots of time and attention. It wasn’t until 2000 that I began writing again. I dabbled in fanfiction for a while, a really great place to practice and grow as a writer. After a couple of years of playing in the sandbox, I decided I was ready to try to give my own characters voices and stories. I co-wrote my first book with a friend because I didn’t feel confident enough to tackle an entire novel alone. After discovering the world of e-publishing, I never stopped writing and now have over twenty published novellas and novels. So becoming a published author was a slow process that took many years. I wouldn’t have been ready until recently to have the strength and determination to take rejection and keep soldiering on.

2. Jungle Heat, your latest release was inspired by the Legend of Tarzan. Tell us a little about your story and how you came up with the idea.

My inspiration for Jungle Heat was not so much Edgar Rice Burroughs’ original story as the 80’s movie Greystoke: the Legend of Tarzan. Let me start off by saying my hero is NOT named Tarzan. The name’s got too much cheese-factor for me. And because this is a male/male romance, my hero’s not Jane but James. I got a kick out of keeping the name as similar as possible.

Why a gay romance you ask? Because it provides a unique and refreshing way of telling the story. There’s an intriguing symmetry in the two men’s experience. Both feel like outsiders in the society in which they live. Both are lonely men who yearn for something just beyond reach, a missing part of themselves. The discovery and acceptance of that missing part makes for a great romance.

3. Jungle Heat is set in Congo Free State in the year 1888 – it’s not a common setting. How did you go about researching for your story?

Internet search. Most of the info came from Wikipedia, a writer’s best friend. Also checked out some books at the library including Stanley’s travelogue about his experiences. Travel times were a bit problematic. Any expedition took many, many months. At one point, I wanted to get my protagonists from Africa back to England fast so I could resume the story there. Then I realized I could make use of that travel time. During the steam ship voyage was a great time for my hero and hero to get closer, and for Michael to improve his understanding of English and the new culture he was about to enter.

I read about gorillas, their diet and habits. One evening I was channel surfing and came across Gorillas in the Mist, which I hadn’t seen in years. I watched that and found it very useful too.

4. Writer’s Block – fact or fallacy? Do you ever suffer from writing blockages?

There’s always a block. With every book I reach a point where I can’t see the movie in my head anymore. It’s like someone turned off the projector and I’m feeling along in the dark. I used to panic about this, afraid I’d have to abandon a manuscript three quarters of the way through. But now I understand that for some reason it’s part of my process: I hit a wall, I think I’ve painted myself into a corner, I can’t see any way to weave all the loose threads. Sometimes I put the story aside completely and come back to it weeks or months later, edit from the beginning and when I reach the stuck point again, I can navigate through it. Other times, I simply go to bed and wake up in the morning with fresh insight. The hour just before I get up, when I’m dozing and allowing my subconscious to drift is when most of the bugs get worked out. And sometimes, when all else fails, I just start writing and then a character says something or asks something and it triggers what needs to happen next.

5. What advice would you give to an aspiring writer wanting to write historical romance?

Don’t fret about being caught in a mistake. It’s hard to get every detail perfectly correct no matter how much research you do or how careful you try to be. And there are those who will be actively searching for mistakes in your story. If you can find a critique partner who knows her shit about the time period your story’s set in, you’ve struck gold.

Excerpt:

Congo Free State, 1888

Odd One watched, as still as the tree trunk by which he stood, not moving more than his eyes as Old Grunt had taught him. His pale, furless skin caked with river mud was nearly the same gray-brown as the tree. His light hair was also matted with mud and his face smeared so only the whites of his strange blue eyes might give his position away. He could never hide in plain sight like the Others, but he did the best he could.
Something was moving loudly through the underbrush—a foolish animal without enough sense to slip quietly between the leaves or to step lightly on the ground. The footsteps were different from any creature he’d ever heard, a heavy tread. It sounded as if there were more than one. He judged that the approaching animals had the weight of a leopard but not the stealthily padded paws.

Excitement tingled through him, making the hair rise on his nape. He clenched the sharpened stick in his fist, pressed his back against the rough bark and waited for whatever was coming.

One of the creatures made a sound as it came closer. Not a screech or cry, not a groan, hoot or whimper, but a noise unlike anything he’d heard before yet strangely familiar. A dim memory struggled to float up in his mind. He reached for it, and it was gone.

His heart pounded and he breathed faster as he glimpsed one of the creatures between the leaves. It walked upright on two legs just as he did and like the Others did some of the time. He wanted to leap forward, to see all of it at once instead of flashes through the undergrowth.

There were two of them, one walking behind the other. The pair communicated back and forth with their strange calls. He caught his breath. These were like the sounds he sometimes made when he was all alone in the forest, the noises his throat and tongue made that none of the Others could duplicate.

The pair moved into the clearing in front of him where they stopped and stood looking around. His heart raced even faster. The two creatures looked like him, or what he’d seen of himself reflected in still water. Their faces and hands were naked like his with the same prominent noses and fully formed lips. Hair grew on the lower part of their faces. Their bodies were covered with something that was neither fur, skin nor scales but something completely foreign.

One of them took a thing off the top of his head and ran a hand through sweat-flattened hair—hair like his, not fur as most animals had—and white like the streaks in Old Grunt’s ruff. These animals were his kind. There were more in the world like him. He wasn’t alone.

He turned his attention to the other one, studying the face closely. The creature’s brows drew together in a frown as he communicated with his partner, using hand motions to emphasize the sounds coming from his mouth. His hair was brown. He was younger than his companion. Odd One couldn’t take his gaze from the creature’s eyes, the way they blinked and moved and squinted when his mouth widened to show his teeth. Baring teeth meant aggression to the Others, but the stranger didn’t appear angry. He seemed pleased. His eyes crinkled at the corners and lines grooved his cheeks. A quiet chuckling sound rumbled from his chest and came out his mouth.

A warm feeling rushed through Odd One. He found himself mimicking the stranger’s expression, his lips lifting at the corners, his teeth showing. What would the strange animals do if he came toward them now? He would drop his sharp stick on the ground and come with his head lowered, his eyes down-turned to show his intention wasn’t to harm. Would they make their noises at him and welcome him as one of them? But he wasn’t of their clan so maybe they would drive him away. Better he stay still until they’d moved on, then follow and learn more about the invaders in his world.

He waited and watched. After the two bent down to look at something on the ground, they rose and headed back in the direction from which they’d come. Odd One followed, slipping silently over the forest floor without rustling a single branch.

Purchase Jungle Heat from Carina Press, Amazon Kindle, or All Romance Ebooks.

You can visit Bonnie at her website.

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The theme for this week is music. Despite my love for music, I don’t have many mentions of music in my books. I do have a release called Seeking Kokopelli, coming out on 29 June from Samhain Publishing, that features a band of musicians. Seeking Kokopelli is a m/m romance and there are a few naughty words in the excerpt. You are warned…

SEEKING KOKOPELLI by Shelley Munro

The plaintive notes of a sax throbbed through the gloomy pub. Nate McKenzie watched Adam James’s strong fingers as he played, enthralled by both the performance and the man—a sexy, dark-haired figure illuminated in a golden spotlight. Adam caressed the music from his instrument, his eyes closed while he focused on playing the song.

Despite the other men and women in the crowded room, Nate felt as if Adam played for him. Only for him. Blood pounded through his veins, his cock drawing tight beneath the unforgiving denim of the faded jeans he wore. It was the same every time Adam played his saxophone or sang in that smoky voice of his. Intense arousal surged through Nate’s mind along with confusion.

How could one man make him feel this way?

So lost. So incredibly aroused.

So damn needy.

Nate clenched his fingers around a bottle of beer and forced himself to take a sip. The warm taste of hops made him pull a face. Rosa. Thoughts of his wife should fill his mind, bring the sting of arousal to his cock and pull his body taut with desire, not his employer Adam James.

Sweet Jesus, Rosa hadn’t been gone for that long. It was far too soon to try to fill the empty gap her death had left. His lips pressed tight. Both men and women might have interested him before he’d met his wife, but one look at her dark hair, flashing brown eyes, her curvy body, and he’d been smitten. He hadn’t looked at another man since meeting Rosa.

Until Adam.

A pair of red lace panties sailed through the air and struck Adam’s thigh before plopping to the stage. Adam continued playing smoothly as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, filling the pub with his sultry, seductive music.

A woman screamed, “I love you, Adam.”

The crowd roared. A few hooted with laughter. A second woman hollered an obscene suggestion of what she’d like to do if she cornered him alone.

Another pair of panties hit the stage. Nate turned away in disgust, telling himself it wasn’t jealousy. He tipped back his head, swallowed the dregs of his beer and ordered another. His last one for the night, because he needed to make sure Adam and the other three members of Stampede made it back to their motel rooms safely. He and Keith helped the band when they were on the road with security and anything else they required. Sometimes the women refused to let the band leave or, worse, tried to sneak into their vehicle or rooms.

Nate didn’t expect problems tonight. This crowd appeared well behaved. They’d get the band back to the motel. What the guys did after they reached the motel was up to them. Nate’s responsibilities for the night usually ended there.

Nate shot a quick look at Adam, took in the way the damp T-shirt clung to his chest and gulped. He saw a cold shower in his near future. And if that didn’t work, he’d go for a run and take another icy shower when he returned. He would not think about Adam. He would not jerk off while thinking about the man again.

And no more spending time with Adam. If he followed these rules, maybe he’d manage to stuff the man into the “friends box” instead of letting him drift into bloody uncharted territory. He was still faithful to Rosa, dammit. It was way too soon to replace the memories he clutched close to his heart. And Adam—Adam had more women than he could possibly want. Why would Adam show interest in him?

The last haunting note of the sax drifted away, and the rest of the band joined in with the melody. Adam started to sing. His gaze drifted across the rapt audience and, although Nate knew Adam wouldn’t be able to make him out in the gloom, the man seemed to stop looking when he glanced in his direction. Nate’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at Adam’s face, the intense eyes, the high cheekbones, the dark golden complexion. And that mouth…

A groan built deep in his throat. The man had him tied in knots and didn’t even know it. Despite his growing fame, Adam was a private man. He handled his fans and the reporters with aplomb, hiding behind easy charm. They thought they knew him, but Nate looked deeper than most.

Adam James had secrets.

Nate didn’t know what they were, didn’t want to. A man deserved some privacy.

The song slid to an end, and the crowd burst into applause and cheers. Somewhere a woman hollered about her underwear, making Nate wince at her crudeness.

“Thanks,” Adam said in a husky voice. “We’re about to play our last song for the night. It’s a new one for us. It’s called ‘Alone’.”

The band started playing, with Adam singing the poignant lyrics about a man being alone, looking for love, a mate. The words tore at Nate’s gut, ripping him open and laying his heart bare. He noticed a woman sitting not far from him with tears pouring unchecked down her cheeks.

Rosa. Damn, he missed her so much. She’d filled the empty loneliness inside him. It was almost one full year since she’d passed, and he missed her every single day, despite the weird yearning that struck him whenever he spent time near Adam.

Adam held the last note of the song, and the music trailed away. There was a long pause of pulsing silence before the cheering started. Nate couldn’t help his pleased grin. Stampede had a new hit on their hands.

Pre-order your copy from Amazon Kindle

To read other excerpts in the Snippet Saturday trail follow the links below:

Mari Carr
TJ Michaels
Ashley Ladd
HelenKay Dimon
Eliza Gayle
Shelley Munro
Lauren Dane
Jody Wallace

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Today I’m doing a guest post at The Rainbow Studio blog where I’m talking about the first gay romance I read. I’m also doing a guest blog at Alternative Read.com where I’m discussing Fancy Free and the use of condoms in romantic fiction. Should we or should we not have our heroes and heroines using condoms? Those who comment on my Alternative Read post will go into a draw to win a download from my Ellora’s Cave or Cerridwen Press backlist.

Warning: Condoms were tested and a few harmed during the writing of this story.

It’s not every day a girl inherits a condom company, and to say accountant Alice Beasley is astonished and out of her depth is putting it mildly. For an almost virgin, she needs a quick education in all things condom because her inheritance is in danger. Someone is intent on sabotage and playing nasty, trying to destroy her new company.

Alice is suddenly getting down and dirty with charismatic James, the factory manager, all in the name of business, testing new condom designs. The sex is hot. Mind-blowing. It’s a dark thrill and an erotic journey. Yeah, it’s a hard job, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s gotta do.

The testing turns personal. Alice wants James. She craves his talented touch and sultry kisses, she desires passion and physical pleasure on a permanent basis but first she must convince bad-boy James to give up his fancy-free ways…

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The theme for this week is shopping, and I’ve chosen an excerpt from my gay romance Last Wish. Dillon, our hero, is tasked with buying a silver teapot for his mother’s birthday. He ends up with a lot more than a teapot…

Susan peered into the box. Cobwebs and what looked like mice droppings covered most of the articles inside. “Buy the whole box,” she said in an undertone. “The salt shaker and goblets are nice. Mum will like them. Just wipe the worst of the dust off. Let Mum do the real cleaning. She’ll get a kick out of it.”

“Okay. Ah, here’s the stallholder now.”

“Later,” she said, standing on tiptoe to give him a quick peck on the cheek before speeding away.

Dillon turned to the stallholder, an elderly man who teetered toward him with the aid of a walking stick. “How much for the box of stuff?”

The man gave it a cursory glance and sniffed. “I picked the box up at an estate sale. I can give it to you for one hundred and fifty bucks.”

“One-fifty? For this?” Hell, he wasn’t sure he had that much money in his wallet. “How about one-twenty?”
He knew he had that much for sure.

“Done!” The man grinned, flashing a large gap where two front teeth were missing. The gleam in the man’s eyes made him wonder if he’d made a mistake in offering that much. Too late now. He grabbed his wallet from the rear pocket of his jeans and handed over the money. The man grinned again and he noticed one of his bottom teeth was missing as well. The man stuffed the money in his pocket and started to pack up his stall.

“Are you leaving already?”

“My work here is done,” the man said, his rapid moves belying Dillon’s initial guess at his age. He didn’t lean as heavily on his stick. It was as if he were in an almighty hurry. “Here. Take your box.” The man’s curt words confirmed it.

Dillon placed the saltshaker and the goblets back on top of the box and lifted it. In bemusement, he watched the man load his fold-up table, a chair and his remaining stock into the back of a utility vehicle. He shook his head, wondering at the man’s weird behavior. Still at least he had the silver and was in Susan’s good books. For a change. He smirked and moved out of the man’s way, coughing at the wave of dust kicked up by the vehicle when it sped away. Turning away, he juggled the box on his hip. The contents shifted inside, clinking together with a metallic ring. The distinct rumbling of his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten for a while. He’d grab brunch at one of the cafes in the square before heading for home and tracking down the rogue who’d loosed the virus on his computer. Revenge was gonna be sweet.

Dillon took two steps and the bottom fell out of his box. Metallic pieces rained down on his feet and hit the ground, rolling in all directions. The saltshaker plopped onto his right boot. “Ow. Bloody hell.” He hopped on one foot and scrambled to gather his new purchases, hoping like hell he hadn’t dented anything too badly.

Susan would kill him, and it wasn’t as if he could hide the evidence. She seemed to know—probably her mother skills coming out. Unfortunately he seemed to end up on her radar system no matter how hard he tried to extract himself.

Not a single stallholder in sight. Not a box or a bag within snatching range. With an impatient sigh, he started to assess the damage. Using the hem of his T-shirt, he rubbed pieces of grass and dust off the blackened silver, giving each piece a perfunctory glance. Finally he stood. Yep, he’d managed to grab them all. Apart from one. He squatted and picked up the piece, a slow grin of delight curling across his lips when he turned it over in his hands. Well, heck. What do ya know? A teapot. A strange-looking one but definitely a teapot his mother would love. When it came to collecting, unusual was good—according to his mother at any rate.

The pot had four chubby legs and a long arching spout. Small hidden hinges attached the lid, and the body of the pot matched its chubby legs. Dillon picked it up and stood to check the bottom for silver marks. He rubbed it briskly and softly exhaled when he saw the requisite symbols. Bingo. He rubbed a fraction harder across the belly of the pot to clean off a smudge of dirt. Without warning a puff of smoke curled from the spout. He blinked. The smoke grew in volume. Multicolored in pink, red, silver, gold and green, it reminded him of a fireworks display but on a smaller scale and without the accompanying explosions. Slowly the dazzling smoke coalesced into the body of a man. Dillon blinked again but when the muscular man remained, he wanted to lick his lips. Oh yeah. Why the hell couldn’t he meet a man like this in Sumner?

He rubbed his eyes with the hand not holding the teapot and focused again. The man was still there. It wasn’t his overactive imagination acting out. At least he didn’t think so. He reached out to touch, positive the tip of his finger would shatter the hot vision standing right in front of him. He’d almost made contact when the vision spoke.

“Huh!” The man scanned the area before turning his gaze back on him. “Looks like you’re it. One wish and be quick about it. One wish—that’s all that remains on my contract. One wish and I’m free. So, come on. What’s it gonna be? Time’s a wastin’.”

Dillon stared, only half taking in the man’s husky and hurried words. His free hand dropped to his side. More struck by the muscular body of the attractive man standing impatiently in front of him than interested in his words, he continued to study him closely. A genie? Instead of wearing genie-type garb, the man wore a gray polo shirt and tight black jeans. Silver bands decorated his wrists, catching the late morning sun and shining brightly with each movement of his hands. His clothing clung to his body, highlighting his broad chest, lean hips and muscular legs. He guessed without looking the stranger would have a tight, firm ass. Sort of went with the territory. His tan face contained determination, not handsome but arresting with sharp angles and soft lips. Black hair, long and thick, curled in haphazard manner over his shoulders. Dark stubble shaded his strong jaw while a silver ring pierced one ear. Blue eyes glittered from beneath dark brows. Dillon’s gaze slipped to his mouth. Oh yeah. Talk about sin…that soft mouth was made for kissing.

Dillon shuddered, his brain freezing and refusing to move onward. Every muscle in his body tensed as he imagined how that luscious mouth would feel curled around his cock, working it. Teasing. Stroking. Sucking.

“Hello. Hello?” The man clicked his fingers in front of Dillon’s face. “A simpleton.” Pure disgust distorted the sensual curve of his mouth. “My contract’s almost done, one wish left to issue, and I get the village idiot.”

Purchase Last Wish @ Ellora’s Cave
Purchase Last Wish @ Kindle

To read more excerpts follow the Snippet Saturday links below:

McKenna Jeffries
Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Lauren Dane
Mari Carr
Eliza Gayle
Jody Wallace
Lissa Matthews
TJ Michaels
Shelli Stevens

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This week’s theme is explosions. I’m using artistic license this week. LOL – my excerpt from Sex, Spies and Sapphires includes the word “explode”…

Sex, Spies and Sapphires by Shelley Munro

“Kiss me.”

“I’ve never met anyone as bossy as you before.”

“And you like it,” she retorted. “You like a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her independent streak and sassy mouth were the first things he’d noticed about her. Once again he thanked his lucky star for arranging their paths to cross.

“Are you just going to stare at me with a dopey smile? If Mr. Mark saw it, he’d demote you in an instant.”

She smirked. “I might suggest he promotes Chester to your job. Chester is so cute.”

Thomas moved so quickly she squealed. He whipped her over his knee and applied his hand to her naked backside. “Take it back.”

“Make me,” she said, laughter lurking in her husky voice. Sarah turned her head so she could see his face and pursed her lips. “I dare you.”

Little vixen. She knew just how to push him, which buttons would make him explode into action. He fondled her buttocks with his large hands, fascinated by the color contrasts in their skins. Sarah was pale where he was darker, tanned from spending time outdoors. Thomas bent to place a kiss in the middle of one pale buttock before leaning back against the headboard and slapping her ass.

“Oh!” she said with a squeak.

“Is that daring enough for you?”

Sarah waggled her ass. “Do it again.”

Shaking his head and laughing at the same time because of her outrageousness, he applied his hand again. The crack when hand met flesh was loud even though he hadn’t hit her hard. A rush of blood to her butt cheeks made them glow a soft pink. Sarah squirmed a little, the wriggling moves rubbing against the flared head of his penis. Thomas bit back a groan, knowing if he loosed the sound, Sarah would construe it as a weakness and think she’d won in this battle of wills. Thomas was determined to come out victor, just as he was determined to get his hands on the sapphire before Sarah. He knew she was after it even though they hadn’t discussed the matter.

He tapped her ass again, letting his hand linger on her stinging flesh to savor the heat. Sarah lifted into his hand and rubbed. The minx created a kiss of friction across his erection with the sly move, wringing a chuckle from him.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, his voice close to a groan.

“Love me,” she said. “You’re going to love me.”

He was doomed. Absolutely doomed.

Purchase from Ellora’s Cave.

To read more excerpts follow the Snippet Saturday trail:

McKenna Jeffries
Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Mari Carr
Kelly Maher
Eliza Gayle
Victoria Janssen

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This shot was taken at our local Botanic Gardens. Mr. Munro and I don’t get there as often these days, now that the little dog is gone, but it’s a lovely outing for a Sunday morning.

In New Zealand news, an Invercargill woman was fined $275 for disorderly behavior after she flashed her boobs at motorists and caused an accident.

Mr. Munro has just learned he might have to go to work in Wellington for two weeks early next year, and I’ll get to go with him. Wellington is at the bottom of the North Island, and it will be a nice break from Auckland. I might even get some writing done. I’m finding it hard going this month with all the other Christmas distractions. I definitely want to visit the Day in Pompeii exhibition at Te Papa museum and we’re thinking we might do a quick trip to the South Island if time permits.

In book news, I have three more Ellora’s Cave titles available in the Kindle format: Fringe Benefits, Fallen Idol and Fancy Free are now on sale. Whisk out your credit cards and grab your copies today!

If you’re a writer, how is your writing coming along with all the Christmas razzmatazz? And readers, are you managing to relax a little with some of your favourite books?

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Some of my titles are now available on Kindle. Ellora’s Cave have a huge backlist of titles, and it’s taking a while, but all titles from A – C are now available at Amazon in Kindle format.

Several of my Middlemarch Mates series are now available on Kindle.

Here’s the link to my available Kindle titles – go forth and shop for Christmas!

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