Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You don’t have to be published to participate just an writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.

“You ain’t old, Ed. You just need to get laid.”

Ed’s boss seems to think so, anyway.  Don’t let her opinion fool you, though. Ed’s never had a problem getting what he’s wanted. His problem is accepting what he gets, which in May Day, happens to be a sip from the fountain of sordid youth–two youths, to be exact. Young or 39-and-holding, you’ll enjoy my latest gay erotic romance, May Day, available at Changeling Press.

May Day

by Bryl R. Tyne

cover art by Marteeka Karland

ISBN: 978-1-60521-452-8

Book Summary His forty-ninth birthday approaching, Ed is expecting nothing more than his usual stiff drink and an anonymous fuck in the back room of Yancy’s Crossings. What he never expected was to be picked up by two college students and taken for a ride that would change his life forever.

Adult Excerpt (R):

May. For me, it was the worst month of the year.

“I’m taking the rest of the week off, Sue. And no — no emergency calls.” I couldn’t help but notice the look she threw over the rim of her glasses. Of course, every tenant and his or her neighbor would be calling in for AC maintenance before Friday; today was only Wednesday… like I said, it was May. “It’s my birthday tomorrow, for Pete’s sake.”

As she slapped shut the file she was skimming, I hesitated at the door. “Cut an old man some slack, would you?”

“You ain’t old, Ed. You just need to get laid.”

A hundred needles pierced the back of my neck, and from the heat, I was sure the sudden change in color finding its way to my ears was more than noticeable. But that was Sue for you. Great boss, don’t get me wrong. She just never outgrew her tomboy years. From the warmth now filling my face, the flush was nowhere near receding. Damn my Irish complexion. With my back still toward her desk, I asked, “May I have the rest of the week off, Boss?”

Hand on the doorknob, I waited. Her silent deliberations had always irked me, but I’d paid attention enough over the years to know she needed those certain moments to think she was still in control. After all, she was my boss. If she needed something that simple to make her happy, I was more than happy to accommodate.

After clearing her throat, she voiced her decision. “I can hold down the fort until the weekend. Randy’ll take it from there, but you make sure you’re in ship-shape come Monday morning. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, opening the office door, after a pause to wonder just what she thought I did in my free time. Lord knows, forty-eight — make that forty-nine come tomorrow — and still eligible meant only one thing. I may as well start shopping for retirement living — with a single bed. I reached over and snagged a couple brochures from the table under the curtained window on my way out. Reading material for later, of course.

“And, Ed — Edwin…!”

Body halfway out the door, I popped my head back inside the office.

“Make sure you leave your keys at the bar.” Her wink told me either I was a fool for thinking I’d pulled the perfect ruse all these years or she was a psychic. “And happy birthday. Now, go on. Get out of here.”

* * *

I liked my life. I liked living alone. And I liked driving the five miles east of town to Yancy’s Crossings every Friday after work. I’d grown up with old Mick, the bartender. With promise of good conversation and Yancy’s mature crowd, I didn’t have to worry about making myself perfectly presentable, either. Once in a blue moon, though, someone would catch my eye and I’d get lucky, getting my rocks off in the back room inside some willing ass or hungry throat… normally, it didn’t matter to me if it happened or if it didn’t, as long as when it did, they were willing. With this in mind, I brushed my teeth and reapplied some fresh deodorant that I’d pulled from the whore bag stashed behind the seat of my truck.

Of course, this wasn’t Friday night, but I’d had this ominous shadow niggling me for the past two weeks reminding me I wasn’t getting any younger. I wasn’t concerned with what special Yancy might be throwing or who the crowd might be. I’d had a hard week, I consoled myself as I pulled into the lot, killed my Ford pickup’s engine, threw my gear behind the seat, exited and locked my truck. I needed to unwind and in the worst way.

From the looks of the parking lot, the place was busier than a hornet’s nest, too. Real quick, I ran my fingers through my normally unkempt hair then replaced my hat, adjusting it as I kicked the dust from my boots on my way inside.

I hadn’t had a chance to get used to the lack of daylight when Mick hollered at me from over the bar. “Ed, my man!” Shoving his dishtowel inside a glass, he grinned as I sidled up and took a seat. “Don’t tell me — is it Friday already?”

I shook my head and asked for the usual. He got busy getting my Jack and Coke — hold the ice. Highball glasses were for pussies. The place felt odd, with so many empty seats lining the bar, but I paid it no mind. Tonight, two things were all I wanted — a stiff drink in one hand and, if I got lucky, a stiff dick in the other. Either order would do, too. Hank Williams Jr. blared from the speakers as I glanced around the place, noting a much younger crowd than I was used to seeing… about now, I could really use that drink.

“Rough week, eh?” Instead of sliding the glass onto the bar, Mick handed me my whiskey. Good man. He knew me well enough to know I was more than a bit uncomfortable amid tonight’s patrons.

I’d no sooner downed it when a kid no older than one of my nephews wearing all black and with an earring through the corner of his upper lip squeezed up to the bar beside me. “Dude.” As his gaze met mine, he offered a hesitant smile, then motioned for Mick’s attention. “Where’s the can?”

Mick pointed behind the bar and to his right, and the kid was gone.

Harder than intended, I slammed my glass on the counter. “Pour me another.”

After removing my hat, I pulled out my hanky and dabbed the sweat from my forehead. Mick’s turn to shake his head. He handed me a refill, still wearing that shit-eating grin of his.

“Ain’t nothing funny with this old man, Mick.” I downed the glass he’d just handed me in two gulps. I hadn’t caught sight of anyone close to my age yet. Looked like, whether I wanted to admit it or not, if I happened to get lucky tonight, I’d be robbing somebody’s cradle. I set the empty on the bar and motioned for yet another refill.

“Keys.” Mick held out his hand. All traces of his smile had vanished.

I set my hat on the bar, slid from my stool, fought with the pocket of my jeans for a second, but finally produced the keys to my truck. “Here. What do you got going on in here tonight, anyway?”

I must’ve spoken louder than I’d thought, for Mick shushed me as he threw his towel over his shoulder and, elbow on the bar, leaned toward me. “Keep it down. It’s college night. We’re trying to drum up new business.” He set about mixing me another drink, then set it on the bar, sliding a glass of water next to it. “There’re two tech colleges and a university less than twenty miles of this place. Yancy’s wild idea, but I gotta do my job.”

Shania Twain was bellowing her lungs out overhead. I took a deep breath, then picked up the glass of water. Mick offered a wink. Apparently, my senses were already a bit impaired or I might have taken note of the quick motion he made with his eyebrows to the advancing youths over my left shoulder.

Wouldn’t have mattered to me, if I had noticed the young men approaching sooner. They were interested in what the bar had to offer. Not like I really wanted or expected a one of them in here tonight to be the slightest bit interested in me. Let’s be honest, I was no spring chicken, my party-hearty days well behind me.

“How’s it going, old man?” The youth who’d slid onto the stool to my left motioned for Mick, but the young man had addressed me with his question — clear enough from the slap on my back.

I turned his way, offered a semi-polite smile, and then returned to my drink. My quick assessment told me the kid pushed mid-twenties. At least, in newer-looking jeans and a button-down shirt, though he wore the tails untucked, he was dressed more conservatively than Goth-boy from earlier — not that it would matter much who was dressed how in Yancy’s back room. Just guessing at his age gave me the willies, and the neediness radiating from the other kid seated to my right made it easy to keep my focus straight ahead. I’d be damned if I gave either of them the slightest inkling that I was interested. The quiet one said nothing, but the raised hair on the back of my neck told me he continued to stare.

“So, pops, what brings you out?”

At Mr. Talkative’s second reference to my age, I said, “I ain’t that old,” before picking up my drink and swiveling toward the crowd. Alcohol — fuel for the brazenly stupid. And stupid I was, for being here tonight of all nights.

He followed my actions, twisting around on his stool — the other kid, now on my left, likewise. The quiet one’s stare got to me. My dick stirred; I threw back another swig.

“Confidence.” Mr. Talkative tipped his brown bottle my direction. I eyed him with skepticism. “Good to have,” he said, adding a nod.

I resumed my mock scoping of the crowd, my gaze moving from one “out-of-bounds” ass to the next. Not bad, really… Oh, who in the hell was I kidding? These young men weren’t out-of-bounds — they were altogether out of my league. I’d be hard-pressed to keep up with any one of them.

“Ryan, over here –” The talker, beer in hand, tanned arm stretching across me and pointing, succeeded in pulling me back to the here and now. “ — is looking for a Daddy. Interested?”

My eyebrows lifted at his boldness. I’d have never spoken so openly to another man, never at this one’s age and not any time recently that I could recall. Maybe he should slow up on the alcohol. “I ain’t nobody’s Daddy,” I told him in no uncertain terms, pushing his arm back to him as I turned around, deposited my glass on the bar, and retrieved my hat. “Keys, Mick.”

Mick eyed the wall clock. To my right, Mr. Talkative had rejoined his buddy; the two seemed engaged in private conversation. I didn’t have time for games. What was it with this new breed of men?

My safe-limit half an hour away, Mick had declined my request for my keys. As my luck went, the louder of the two youths returned to face me head on. Eye-to-eye, neither of us flinched. He rubbed his hand on the thigh of his jeans before shoving it my way. “Name’s Kyle. Think we got off on the wrong foot.”

I accepted the handshake. “Ed.” My mouth seemed to have no trouble answering. Damn him and his persistence. Damn the alcohol, but damn it all to hell. I needed to bust a nut.

“We’d be happy to give you, um… a ride.”

I swallowed hard at the images his just-so spoken words had created. Though I was hornier than a buck in rut, my dick responded much too eagerly for my liking. “I don’t think so.” I’d be damned if I let some whippersnappers take care of me. Besides, truth be known, I didn’t think I could handle the two of them — not together — it’d been a long while since I’d gone down that road.

Wasn’t my custom to be rude but, since Kyle and his spineless companion didn’t seem to have the decency, it was my turn. Without as much as a “nice to have met you,” I walked away, headed for the john. I needed to pee.

Links to other Excerpt Monday writers:

As always, your hostesses Bria Quinlan (PG13) , Alexia Reed (R), Rachel Jameson (PG13) and Kendal Ashby (R) thank you for stopping by!

Joining us this week:

Jaleta Clegg, Science Fiction (PG 13)
Penny Dune, Romantic Suspense (PG 13)
Kaige, Historical Romance (PG 13)
Debbie Mumford, Contemporary YA Fantasy (PG 13)
Jeannie Lin, Historical (PG 13)
Jeanette Murray, Contemporary Romance (PG 13)
Dara Young, Steampunk (PG 13)
Ryan, Mystery (PG 13)

Kendal Ashby, Contemporary Romance (R)
Stephanie Draven, Paranormal Romance (R)
Lauren Fraser, (R)
Cate Hart, Historical Romance (R)
KJ Reed, Erotic Romance (R)
Ali Katz, Contemporary M/M (R)
Cherrie Lynn, Paranormal Romance (R)

Sara Brookes, Urban Fantasy Romance (NC 17)
Carly Carson, Futuristic (NC 17)
Lisa Fox, Paranormal/erotic romance (NC 17)
Bryl R. Tyne, Contemporary M/M/M (NC 17)

Note: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You don’t have to be published to participate–just a writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.

Just Released!

COCKED & FULLY LOADED

A Historical Western Anthology from Noble Romance Publishing

w/ Tengo una Pistola by Bryl R. Tyne

Excerpt:

My eyes recognized morning before my head did. I squinted into the rays escaping the muslin tacked over the small window. Blinking numerous times, however, failed to clear my vision or my mind. I rubbed my eyes . . . stretched . . . . Yep, it was morning.

Not that I dreaded mornings, no. Most mornings I hopped out a bed, eager for whatever the day may bring. But not today. Again, I stretched, my body reassuring me it had plenty a rest. And I had. But much like the residue adhering the hair and skin on my stomach to the sheet, my troubles glued me to the bed. She was still here, in my place.

Nothing were more aggravating than waking up without Mitch by my side. Guess he’d outgrown me. At twenty-six, he were well past prime settling-down age. Though, at the thought of him settling for the likes a Carmen as wife and mother, I laughed. My humor at the impending situation ended as easily as it had begun, as my worries shifted to Mitch leaving to make his own life with the wench.

Disrupting my thoughts, aromas of fresh eggs and fresher coffee wafted into the room; least he had breakfast going. I breathed the scents in deep as I climbed from the bed and threw on my clothes.

Maybe the she-devil were still laid up, fast asleep. If Mitch gave her a riding like only Mitch could give, wouldn’t surprise me if she slept well past noon. I shook the unsavory images from my mind as I tugged on my boots then crossed the den.

Wouldn’t do me a lick a good to start out the day on the ornery side a things. Besides, exactly when Mitch planned on leaving weighed heavy on how I approached the topic. Last thing I wanted were to piss him off, have him high-tail it out a here as fast as his horse would carry him. One day at a time, I reminded myself on a long inhale as I rounded into the kitchen.

First thing I noticed, Mitch weren’t at the stove. No, the polecat sat kicked back in his seat at the table. Grin plastered ear to ear, he hummed, fixated toward the stove, toward that shifty female looking to be cooking him breakfast.

She sure weren’t cooking for me, I made up my mind as I took a seat next to Mitch. I wouldn’t let her.

Two-timin’ bastard, humming . . . . I shook my head at his well-rested ass. Were only one reason he hummed. If Carmen had eyes in the back a her head, she’d a winced from the evil-intent cast her way.

“Sleep good, Denton?”

Mitch straightened in his chair. Coffee in hand, he turned to me. “Pretty good, I reckon. You?”

Funny what having a lady around can do to the size of a man’s balls. Though he put on an unusually tough front, I noticed the unsteadiness of his hands as he sipped his coffee. Score one for the old man.

“Buenas días, Senor Samms.” Carmen smiled at me, setting a piled-high plate before Mitch.

I could a done without seeing that kiss she so delicately placed on his cheek. She scurried back to the stove as, jaw set, I snubbed her greeting. Breakfast smelled damned good though. I eyed Mitch’s plate. “That an omelet?”

He washed his bite down with a swig of coffee. “And fried potatoes.”

“Potatoes? This time a year?”

“Pretty resourceful, ain’t she,” he said, matter-a-factly and with a wink.

My stomach rumbled as I looked toward those green and salmon colored skirts, ruffles swishing this way and that before the stove. All right, I’d concede, this one time, on account a the fact I needed a good meal to start the day. I picked up my fork, anticipating breakfast. Even afforded Carmen a slight grin as she set a plate on the table in front of me.

I weren’t going soft or anything; just showing my appreciation. Long as she stayed away from me and mine . . . . I shoveled in a heaping bite as Mitch busied himself eating. Guess I might have to accept he weren’t mine any longer.

Before realizing I hadn’t a cup, I grabbed for my coffee.

“Lo siento. Aquí.” Warm breath and soft lips brushed my left ear as Carmen handed me a steaming cup from over my shoulder.

I welcomed the drink but shied away. Damned perfume could knock a man silly. She settled in the seat opposite one grinning Mitch. Setting my cup on the table, I failed to see what was so damned funny between them and returned to my food as they commenced to chattering back and forth.

Last I knew, Mitch didn’t talk Spanish. He weren’t too bad though, I reckoned, but my attempts to ignore the banter tired. Being left out in my own place ate at me. They continued, until I shoved my plate ahead. Between them, it skidded to a stop. Senseless noise halted; two sets of eyes looked my way. Having garnered their attention, I addressed Mitch. “Since when did you start speakin’ her language?”

Carmen’s immediate giggle told me that may a been the wrong question to ask. Mitch held in another chuckle as he looked to Carmen. “Been practicing a while, I reckon.” With his head, he motioned my way. “Tell the man, Carmen.”

For a second, her eyes widened. She looked at Mitch as she spoke. “El es muy bien.”

I could see a pink tint coloring her cheeks as she used her fingertips to hide a glowing smile. Compared to yesterday evening, she appeared almost modest. Maybe she weren’t too bad, for a female. Or so I reckoned before she began batting those lashes again, and I felt what could be none other than womanly toes, in all their agility, making their way purposefully along the inside a one of my knees.

With a start, I got to my feet, stepping away from my overturned chair, which bounced once from the floor before settling into a slow rocking motion. Weren’t no way in hell I’d follow Mitch down that path.

I grabbed my hat and stormed outside. Plenty a work to be gotten to. Time didn’t wait. Not for me.

_______________________________________________________________________

Links to other Excerpt Monday writers

So, to kick it off, your hosts:

Alexia Reed, Urban Fantasy (R)

and

Bria Quinlan, Rom Com (PG13)

Joining us this week:

Danie Ford, Womens Fiction (PG13)
Kaige, Historical Romance (PG13)
Jeannie Lin, Contemporary (PG13)
RF Long, Fantasy Sword and Sorcery (PG13)
Shawntelle Madison, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Debbie Mumford, Flash Fiction (PG13)
Jo Lynne Valerie, Paranormal Romance (PG 13)

Kendal Ashby, Erotic Contemporary (R)
KB Alan, Erotic Paranormal Romance (R)
Penny Dune, Romantic Suspense (R)
Cate Hart, YA Paranormal (R)
Inez Kelley, Contemporary Romance (R)
Jeannete Murray, RomCom (R)
Christa Page, Regency Paranormal (R)
Michelle Picard, Paranormal (R)
Jeanne St James, Erotic Rom M/M (R)
Danielle Yockman, Historical Romance (R)

Sara Brookes, Fantasy (NC17)
Emily Ryan Davis, Erotic Contemporary Romance (NC17)
Ella Drake, Erotic SciFi Romance (NC17)
Angeleque Ford, Erotic Contemporary Romance (NC17)
Jamal W Hankins, Dark Fiction/Fantasy (NC17)
Bryl R Tyne, Transgender M/M (NC17)

Note: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You don’t have to be published to participate–just a writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.

From the Nerdvana anthology edited by Fred Towers available (s00n) at STARbooks Press – Exposed by Bryl R. Tyne

Exposed by Bryl R. Tyne

Excerpt:

Clay explained the game’s environment as he hovered near the monitor. Mr. Minsho’s gaze traveled from Clay’s shoes to the top of his head. “This is impressive work, McCarthy,” he said, clicking another trigger point. His eyebrows twitched more than a few times, Clay noticed. “You never cease to amaze me with your realism.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Minsho swiveled around, lacing his fingers together atop his desk. “You are coming to the dinner tonight, right?”

Clay’s eyes widened and he cleared his throat. “I’ve quite a bit of work–”

“Nonsense! See you at eight sharp.”

Shit! Hoping to circumvent further obligation, Clay shuffled toward the office door, but Minsho’s final comment sealed his fate. “Don’t be late, McCarthy.”

Nobody understood. Never had, never will, and he wasn’t about to explain. Clay wanted to crawl into a hole, hide out the rest of the night, the remainder of the week if he could. What’s this sudden interest, ‘Help Socialize Clay Week’? He found it unnerving to say the least. My life is mine to live, my secrets, mine to keep. Opening up to others meant sharing both. The mere thought of trusting again sent minute pieces of jagged glass scraping down his spine.

***

“Well, are you coming or not?” Becca asked as she wheeled her chair under the desk and picked up her bag. Clay hoped to avoid the inevitable by pretending ignorance. However, Minsho would never buy that excuse, especially after their earlier conversation. Besides, if it meant finding favor…he hated caving in–being soft. “I’m not biking three miles to Raymond’s. I don’t think so. Have a nice–!”

Becca demanded attention as she whipped his chair around. “You’re riding with me. So, quit being ridiculous.” She yanked him to his feet.

“Let me shut down first for Christ’s sake.” Clay secured his station, hoisted his backpack, and reluctantly followed her. She seriously needs to get laid…I’m getting sick of this shit. Becca’s twenty years old and single. Briefly, Clay wondered; then struggled to erase the revolting mental images. As she turned on to the street, Clay stared at his clunky twelve-speed chained near the door, calculating how many months he’d have to save for an upgrade.

***

This many bodies crammed into 4000 square foot must certainly be against fire code. Clay fascinated on the ceiling’s beam structure as he shoved his way through the crowd, not willing to fall behind. How does she do it? He fumed. Restaurant patrons eloquently parted for Becca, yet they seemed hell bent on blocking his passage. As she disappeared into the sea of people, panic swept through him. His fear of crowds kicked in…Enochlophobia, the shrink told me. Yeah, whatever, I just need to stop, recompose…breathe. Inhaling slowly and adjusting his cap, he wiped the perspiration dotting his temples.

What the hell? He jerked his head toward the owner of the hand that rested on the small of his back. He met hazel eyes…devilish grin. Exactly the reason Clay hated public places. His tongue wet his bottom lip, as menace transformed into opportunity. The man’s smiling face inches from his, Clay toyed with the sudden urge to kiss those full lips.

“Excuse me, are you lost?” the man asked. Even touching a total stranger, the man stood confident. Clay shifted to his right, and the comforting palm retreated.

“J-Just lost track of my friend for a minute,” Clay managed to blurt out, tearing his gaze away and scanning the crowd.

The stranger smiled and held out his hand. “Dave Hansen,” he said.

Clay pushed his glasses up before accepting the handshake. “Clay McCarthy.”

“I’m lost myself,” Dave said, “looking for a table of folks from Minsho Software.”

“Oh, so…” Clay’s eyes moved to Dave’s hand, the one still holding his. Pulling it away, he wiped the sweat from his brow. “You must be the new guy. What’s your specialty?” Not a threat, Clay assured himself as his eyes roamed the man’s expanse…Another poser…noting the scuffed biker boots and faded jeans of his too-casual attire…Definitely not one of us.

“Oh, so you’re with Minsho’s?” Dave asked, with his smile widening into what Clay garnered something between sly and sinister. “I’m an animator. One of the best…So, I’m told.”

“Artificial intelligence,” Clay said, resolving it’d be a cold day in hell before he’d give Dave any recognition.

“Nice…I’ll enjoy working with you.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Links to other Excerpt Monday writers

Alexia Reed, Urban Fantasy (R)

Bria Quinlan, Rom Com (PG13)

Joining us this week:

Jane Bled, Yaoi/M-M Erotica/Vampire/Paranormal/Horror (PG 13)
Danie Ford, YA Urban Fantasy (PG 13)
Heather S Ingemar, Dark Fantasy (PG13)
Babette James, Fantasy Romance (PG13)
Cynthia Justlin, Contemporary Romance (PG 13)
Kaige, Historical Romance (PG 13)
Julia Knight, Fantasy Romance (PG 13)
Jeannie Lin, Historical paranormal romance (PG 13)
R.F Long, Fantasy (PG13)
Shawntelle Madison, Paranormal Romance (PG 13)
Debbie Mumford, Fantasy (PG 13)
Bria Quinlan, Rom Com (PG13)
Megan S, Paranormal (PG 13)
Rosalind Stone, Women’s Fiction (PG 13)
Jo Lynne Valerie, Paranormal Romance (PG 13)

Kendal Ashby, YA (R)
Jax Cassidy, Contemporary (R)
Cate Hart, YA Paranormal (R)
Inez Kelley, Romantic Comedy (R)
Aislinn Kerry, Fantasy (R)
Jeanne St. James, Contemporary Erotic Romance (R)
Cherrie Lynn, Paranormal Romance (R)
Jeanette Murray, Romantic Comedy (R)
Christa Paige, Paranormal (R)
Michelle Picard, Fantasy Romance (R)
Mary Quast, Contemporary Romance (R)
Alexia Reed, Urban Fantasy (R)
Zora Stout, Contemporary Erotic Romance (R)

Sara Brookes, Erotic Sci Fi (NC 17)
Emily Ryan-Davis, Romance (NC 17)
Ella Drake, Historical Paranormal Romance (NC 17)
Angeleque Ford, Erotic Dark Urban Fantasy (NC17)
J.W. Hankins, Dark Fiction (NC 17)
Annie Nicholas, Paranormal Romance (NC 17)
Kim Knox, Erotic SF Romance (NC17)
Michelle Polaris, Erotic Futuristic Romance (NC 17)

Note: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You don’t have to be published to participate–just a writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.

Just Released!

COIN OPERATED BOY

by Bryl R. Tyne

Noble Romance Publishing

Cover artists: Fiona Jayde & Bryl R. Tyne

COIN OPERATED BOY Copyright 2009 Bryl R. Tyne

Mild Excerpt:

THE SIXTH ABANDONMENT:

Seven years later . . . .

Abandoning Earth was simply a formality, Rye tried to convince himself as he made his way over the stony ground to the house. His mistake had nothing to do with Kiara. He knew that. Run from the authorities or serve time right alongside him, those were her choices. What better place to disappear than The Sixth Abandonment—a breeding ground of crime and filth. Outcasts, from any society, were welcomed with open arms.

His Kiara resided here, settled in, setup home amongst these heathen. She had been his savior, the light he counted on in his dark work. Hesitating, knuckles seconds from her door, he exhaled. Kiara wasn’t his any longer. Gently, he rapped.

“See you found me.” She greeted him with the nonchalance of an aged tiger. Leaving the door ajar, she retreated into the house.

Rye let himself inside.

“Figured I’d be seeing you. Has it been seven years already?” Her words dripped sarcasm as she disappeared through a doorway across the room.

She wasn’t happy to see him; he figured as much. Maybe just his perception, but he vowed not to stick around long enough to find out. In search of a washroom, he took the only hall. “Just a quick shower and I’ll be out of your hair.” His voice reverberated off the bare hallway walls, through the starkly furnished front room, and back.

“Go ahead.” She hollered. “Take your time. You look like you could stand to put some meat on them bones.”

To his right, he found the washroom and pushed open the door. Once he got cleaned up, maybe ate a decent meal, he’d be out of her life once and for all. That she could live with. He was certain.

Of all the people he’d let into his quirky life, which wasn’t many, Rye trusted Kiara. She had never betrayed him, though he’d betrayed her with his phony love, the marriage for appearance’s sake. He sighed as he leaned over the sink. Even as he stood trial for violating the Android Fair Usage Act, she’d been beside him—in spirit.

Guilt, persistent and strong, rolled over him in waves as he took in his reflection, noting wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth, deeper than should be for thirty-five years of age. Disgusted with life and with himself, he stepped into the shower. Minimum security or not, seven years confinement had taken its toll.

* * * * *

Kiara placed a plate on the table, piled high with mashed potatoes, butter dripping, and, he was sure, enough salt to fill a week’s rations for a small army. Set off to the side on another plate, a handful of pigs-in-a-blanket accompanied a huge dollop of ketchup. “Sit down. Eat something before you dart out of here.”

Squeezing the water from his hair into a towel, Rye plopped into the only kitchen chair in sight. “Can’t waste . . . .You kept my bike, like I requested?”

“Tracked him down already, did you?” She slammed a tall mug of green tea next to his plate, shaking her head. “Yeah. I got it. Polished and maintained to grand pappy’s instruction.” With a roll of her eyes, she pointed over her shoulder. “Out back, in the shed.”

Almost an angel, he thought, stuffing another forkful of potatoes in with his mouthful of wiener-biscuit-ketchup combo. Her cooking boiled straight from the pits of hell. He smiled around the rim of his cup as he forced the offered meal down with cooled tea. At least she’d supplied a drink he enjoyed.

To help forget the taste, bite after bite, he admired her busyness. Stir a pot, check the oven, rinse a dish, she moved. Always busy, but then, he supposed, teaching English, the outpost’s common language, to the constant influx of intergalactic rebels kept her that way.

After his release, he’d sought the services of a highly skilled retriever. The computer wiz claimed he could uncover information on anyone—anywhere. Give me a name and I’ll tell you what their granny ate for breakfast. He’d sold Rye with that line.

According to the hack, Kiara had done well for herself. Rye glanced around the quaint room. Her language classes were far from cheap, but from the looks of the dilapidated twenty-third century appliances, her lifestyle remained as it had on Earth—as simple as possible.

“Have to go.” He shoved away from the table. Standing, he twisted his damp hair into a tight roll then fastened it in place with a band from his wrist. “You’re doing okay for yourself, I take it.”

“Good as can be expected in this Godforsaken place.” She walked with him, even as he stepped outside and to the shed.

He couldn’t force himself to face her as he pushed his bike to the street. Her reaction, after all these years, wasn’t something he was prepared to handle. Gloves and helmet secure, he kicked his bike to a fine roar, revved it once, and then zoomed away. Dealing with emotions, of any kind, was never his forte.

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Links to other Excerpt Monday writers

Alexia Reed, Urban Fantasy (R)
and
Bria Quinlan, Rom Com (PG13)

Joining us this week:

Jamie Babette, Fantasy Romance (PG13)
M.G. Buehrlen, YA Fantasy (PG13)
AJ Chase, Paranormal Romcom (PG13)
Stephanie Draven, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Heather S. Ingemar, YA (PG 13)
Cynthia Justlin, Romantic Suspense (PG13)
Kaige, Historical Romance (PG13)
Julia Knight, Fantasy Romance (PG 13)
Nadia Lee, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Jeannie Lin, Historical Romance (PG13)
R.F Long, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Shawntelle Madison, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Christa McHugh, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Debbie Mumford, Fantasy Romance (PG13)
Bria Quinlan, Rom Com (PG13)
Megan S, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Dara Sorensen, Historical Fiction (PG13)

Melissa Aires, Futuristic Romance (R)
Kendal Ashby, Contemporary, (R)
KB Alan, Contemporary Erotic Romance  (R)
Carly Carson, Contemporary (R)
Cate Hart, YA (R)
Felicia Holt, Contemporary Romance (R)
Ali Katz, Historical Erotic Romance (R)
Inez Kelley, Contemporary Romance (R)
Annie Nicholas, Paranormal Romance (R)
Christa Paige, Paranormal (R)
Mary Quast, Contemporary Romance (R)
Alexia Reed, Paranormal Romance (R)

Sara Brookes, Erotic Paranormal Romance (NC17)
Ella Drake, Historic Paranormal Romance (NC17)
Angeleque Ford, Dark Urban Fantasy (NC17)
J. W. Hankins, Dark Fantasy (NC17)
Kim Knox, Erotic Romance (NC17)
Elise Logan, Contemporary with Paranormal Elements (NC17)
Dawn Montgomery, Paranormal Erotic Romance (NC17)
Kirsten Saell, Erotic Fairy Tale Romance (NC17)

Note: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You don’t have to be published to participate–just a writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.

PULL by Bryl R. Tyne

Dreamspinner Press

Contemporary M/M

DAYDREAMS(tm) (Short Story)

Buy link

Excerpt:

“I TOLD you, you could trust me.” Ms. Price elbowed me as we crossed the parking lot.

Like the homeless puppy I was, I followed, having no idea what they’d designed for me. Other than six months to a year, depending on the shrink, my first three months’ wages would pay the fine and court costs. She rummaged through her purse and had keys in hand as we neared her car. Some snazzy sports number. It was nice, suited her.

“So where’s my new home?”

I fingered the latch as the car hummed to life. Across the seat, she leaned my way. “Come on, Ms. Price, I apologized for being an ass. Unlock the door.”

She pointed. I turned, and ….

“Hey.”

I froze. Hell, for a second, time froze. But I snapped out of my shock and charged, fists swinging. I ignored the awkwardness of his surrounding arms and inflicted one hell of a head butt to the bridge of his nose. “I hate you! Let—me—ow!”

Twisted, flipped, and slammed against the hood of a navy-blue SUV, I found myself at Detective Conley’s mercy. I was now sure that my wrists had some kinky affair going with his cuffs.

Big help she was, abandoning me faster than flushed water. I clenched my eyes tight, fighting back my inevitable reaction to the warm huffs of air ghosted past my ear. His body draped hard and firm over my back. “Unwise move, Miller. That’s your name. Charles Henry Miller.”

“Chaz. Remove the cuffs, bastard.” I groaned as he adjusted his weight, pressing the air from my lungs.

“I report to Judge Pearson as a result of this program. Understood? Don’t step out of line again.”

Enough with the pressure, Jesus. He yanked me from my cozy position on the hood of the vehicle and manhandled me to the passenger door. Of course, the SUV belonged to him—big, bold, and badass. I wasn’t going anywhere with this deranged fucker and made the point when I refused to climb onto the seat.

Now, I stand a good six foot two. Although a little on the undernourished side, I’d never had a problem holding my own. Either I’d gone from lightweight to featherweight or his quick temper fueled his strength. Yeah, use that fucking big head of yours to hold me against the seat while you buckle me in. I would have no remorse for where my teeth wrought purchase on that pretty face, and he knew it…

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Links to other Excerpt Monday writers Note: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

Mel/Alexia Reed, Urban Fantasy (R)

Bria Quinlan, Rom Com (PG)

Stephanie Draven, Paranormal Romance (PG 13)
Babette James, Fantasy Romance (PG13)
Cynthia Justlin, Contemporary YA (PG 13)
Kaige, Historical Romance (PG13)
Julia Knight, Fantasy Romance (PG 13)
Jeannie Lin, Historical Romance (PG13)
Shawntelle Madison, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Christa McHugh, Paranormal Romance (PG 13)
Debbie Mumford, Time-Travel Historical Romance (PG13)
Bria Quinlan, Rom Com (PG13)
Megan S, Paranormal (PG13)
Dara Sorensen, Historical Fiction (PG13)
Bethanne Stausser, Romantic Suspense (PG13)
Rosalind Stone, YA Fantasy (PG 13)
Flicka Holt, Contemporary Romance (R)
KB Alan, Erotic Paranormal Romance (R)
Cate Hart, YA Paranormal (R)
Cherrie Lynn, Erotic Contemporary Romance (R)
Inez Kelley, Fantasy/Shifter Romance (R)
Aislinn Kerry, Fantasy (R)
Christa Paige, Paranormal Romance (R)
Alexia Reed, Urban Fantasy (R)
Rebecca Savage, Romantic Suspense (R)
Jeanne St.James, Contemporary Romance (R)
C.M. Torrens, Urban Fantasy (R)
Paige Tyler, Erotic Romance (R)
Vivienne Westlake, Paranormal Romance (R)

Stephanie Adkins, Erotic Romantic Suspense (NC17)
Evie Byrne, Paranormal Romance (NC 17)
Ella Drake, Erotic Paranormal Romance (NC17)
Angeleque Ford, Erotic Romance (NC 17)
Kim Knox, Erotic SF Romance (NC17)
Emily Ryan-Davis, Erotic Historical Western (NC17)
Dawn Montgomery, Erotic Contemporary Romance (NC 17)
Kirsten Saell, Erotic Fairy Tale Romance (NC17)
Bryl R Tine, Erotic Contemporary m/m (NC17)