All posts by J.M. Snyder

Commanding Officer Thomas

GENRE: Erotica, Futuristic / Sci-Fi, Romance
LENGTH: 14,204 words

BLURB: Lieutenant Lee Mallory spends his time off duty playing video games. There isn't much else to do while stationed on the USS Nova out in deep space.

Unfortunately, a run in with his commanding officer, Jonan Thomas, strips him -- and everyone else onboard -- of their gaming privileges.

Thomas has had it in for Lee from day one, when they got off on the wrong foot. Now, banned from using the game server in the rec room, Lee sneaks online in his quarters after hours, looking to play.

That's where he meets a fellow gamer onboard who's interested in a different kind of game. As much as Lee wants to hook up, though, he can't afford to get into any more trouble.

Can Lee take command -- in the game and in the bedroom -- without further aggravating his CO?


Lee kept an eye on her as she benched the weight, but most of his attention was diverted to the sexy guy now doing side planks. Lee toyed with the idea of approaching him, but how would that look? Hey, I saw you exercising. You’re kinda hot. Any way he played it out in his head, he knew it sounded like nothing more than a bad pickup line.

The guy jumped up from the plank and ran in place, feet a blur, knees pumping double time. Then he started doing lunges, alternating legs and turning a quarter turn with each set.

As he turned, Lee admired the way his little gym shorts pulled taut across his pert ass. When he added arm crunches to his routine, the muscles in his arms stood out, veins cabling in relief.

Lee watched, entranced. He liked this one -- so energetic. What would that energy be like in bed? His dick stirred at the sight of the guy’s buttocks flexing beneath the thin fabric. He imagined them both naked together, in his quarters, that round ass clenched tight and waiting beneath him. He could almost feel that pliant flesh in his hands as he massaged those ass cheeks, kneaded them, then pushed them together to ease his cock between them. He could almost see the dark tip of his dick peek out between the juicy twin mounds as he humped them once, twice, God. Just thinking about it made him hard.

Below him, Brenna made an exasperated sound. “Dude, you’re tenting. Chill.”

Lee shifted his legs to hide his budding erection. Budding? Hell, a few minutes more and he’d get off on his fantasy alone.

The barbell clanked back into the rack and Brenna sat up. Then she grabbed her towel off the bench and wiped the sweat off her face. With a sigh, she said, “Look, I know when I’m being ignored.”

“I’m not ignoring you!” Lee jiggled the barbell. “Come on, you need to get in your reps. I’m sorry --”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “I’m done. Go talk to him already, will you?”

Sudden fear lurched in Lee’s chest. “What? I can’t. I don’t know him.”

“But you want to,” Brenna said. “So go over there and introduce yourself.”


Across the gym, the guy they were discussing stopped exercising abruptly, as if he’d heard them. He raised his left leg, then reached back with his right hand to grab his foot and pull it back into a slow stretch. After a moment, he switched legs. Then he twisted at the waist, and he caught Lee staring.

Lee felt his face flush. God.

“He knows you now,” Brenna said. “Go on, man up.”

Before Lee could gather up his courage, the guy grabbed a nearby towel to wipe down and headed their way.

“Go on,” Brenna hissed.

The pressure was on. Lee’s palms grew slick, his cheeks burned. This was it, his moment, go for it. But what should he say? “Hey baby,” was a bit too blunt, but “Sup” sounded too informal. The guy was coming closer, he was almost close enough to speak to, damn.

Suddenly Lee’s mind locked up, and his mouth moved on its own. His tongue curved over his teeth, his bottom lip curled, and he let out a randy whistle.

The guy froze and stared at them. His eyes were dark -- blue? black? Lee wasn’t sure, but they flashed under heavy brows knit together in confusion or anger, one of the two. Not exactly the reaction Lee had hoped for.

“Was that directed at me?” the guy asked.

His voice was level, calm. Maybe Lee was misreading the situation. Still, just to be safe, he gave a one-shouldered shrug and made a noncommittal noise he hoped could be read as either yes or no, depending on how it was interpreted.

The guy looked unimpressed. “What’s your name, mister?”

Maybe he was interested, after all. Lee tamped down the flicker of hope in his chest. “Lee. Lee Mallory with the 58th. This is --”

“Lieutenant Mallory.”

The blasé way he drew out Lee’s name set off all kinds of warning bells. “How’d you know my rank?”

Rubbing the towel over his close-cropped hair, the guy sounded casually disinterested as he replied, “You’re right. We haven’t been formally introduced. But I’ve heard all about you, Lieutenant.”

Beside him, Brenna groaned. “Oh no.”

Lee still didn’t get it. “What do you mean?”

“He’s our new CO,” Brenna moaned.

Now he smiled, a cold, hard slash across his face. “It’s Thomas. And you’ll address me as Commander or sir, is that understood?”

“Sir! Yes, sir!” Lee snapped to attention, as if that might help dig him out of trouble.

It didn’t. “So I’ll ask you again,” Thomas drawled. “Was that whistle directed at me?”

Lee didn’t know how to answer, what to say. What could he say? “Um ...”

In His Kiss Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Interracial, Romance
LENGTH: 62,384 words

BLURB: If you love interracial gay romance, this box set is for you!

Collected together for the first time are 8 sizzling stories by M/M author J.M. Snyder. These hot and heavy tales of manlove feature quick hookups and exciting encounters between men looking for love outside their race.

Contains the stories:

Car Trouble: What begins as a bad day improves when Terrence meets the hot mechanic. Dressed in a pair of tight, oil-stained jeans and little else, Jimmy exudes sex appeal. Terrence finds himself drawn to Jimmy, and soon it's not just his car being serviced.

Closing Time: Mitchell Nolan is a bartender working late on Christmas Eve. As the last patrons leave, he stays behind to clean up. Then he meets Romy Lariner, who ducks inside the bar when his car won't start. Sparks fly between these two lonely men this holiday.

Cruising on Cary Street: Willis Moore is a detective who was suspended. After his firs...gets him alone for a little one on one in the studio, can he help Joey relax enough to make their collaboration a success?

Hot Merchandise: A shoplifter attracts the attention of Bill's coworker, so he has to step in to avoid a scene. When he's asked to empty his pockets, the potential thief agrees ... but only in the privacy of the store's back room, where Bill discovers just how hot his merchandise is.

On the Down Low: Nick's the only white guy at his roommate Tyrone's hip hop party, but Tyrone's friend De'Andre is the center of attention. The moment Nick notices him, he gets sprung. De'Andre is big and black and hot damn, but he's sexy. Nick feels out of his league -- he's young, white, gay, and desperately looking for a chance to spend some time alone with De'Andre. Luckily De'Andre seems just as interested.

One on One in the Studio: When pop star Joey Angel is asked to record on a song with hip hop legend DJ Key, he's thrilled. He's a fan of Key's and hopes the song will help give him street cred. But things get off to a rough start, and Joey finds it hard to concentrate during the session. When Key gets him alone for a little one on one in the studio, can he help Joey relax enough to make their collaboration a success?

Playing the Field: Out of Bounds: Jo plays basketball on his college team. At an off-campus party before the season begins, he hooks up with a guy named Kevin. Things heat up between them, leading to a night of hot sex. But the next day Jo learns Kevin has been hired as his team's new assistant coach. Is their budding relationship over before it even begins? Or will Kevin go out of bounds to be with Jo?

Playing the Field: Play On: This is Cordero's rookie year with the intramural soccer team, but he catches Sean's eye the first day of practice. Sean wastes no time letting this fly brother know just how sprung he is. The feeling's mutual and there's no denying the spark between them. Unfortunately, Sean is easily distracted by Cordero on the field. Can he get his mind back on the game before he's thrown off the team?


From Hot Merchandise

Bill sighs. Not tonight. “I’ll do something,” he promises. With a final look at the two -- the taller guy is watching him again, a faint smile playing over a pair of full, dark lips -- Bill turns back to his notebook, mind racing. “Just ... keep an eye on them and let me know when they’re heading out.”

“Um ...” At the hesitation in Angie’s voice, he looks up. “I think they’re heading out now.”

Bill rolls his eyes so he doesn’t have to lift his head and, sure enough, the duo are heading toward the store’s entrance. The guy in the jacket hasn’t taken his hands out of his pockets, and that looks bad. But Bill’s gaze is drawn to the swinging package at the front of the guy’s sweats. The fleece caresses the bulk hidden beneath it as it moves, outlining a bulge that makes Bill’s throat dry to think of it. He can imagine a thick, black cock encased in a white jockstrap, partially aroused from the sheer motion of the guy’s sexy strut. He pictures his fingers encircling that shaft, pale skin on dark, the purplish-red bulbous tip bubbling over with pre-cum that sparkles like stars in the night sky ...


Angie’s elbow almost knocks him over. At the dazed look he turns her way, she shakes her head. “I’m calling security.”

Bill catches her arm before she gets too far. “I said I’d handle it.”

“Well?” With a jerk of her head, she reminds him they’re heading out. “Whatever you plan to do, you better do it now.”

His palms are suddenly clammy, his throat tight. Wiping his hands on his slacks, he straightens his tie and reminds himself he’s the night manager. This is his store. Even if the guys aren’t stealing, Angie can get him into a lot of trouble if she decides to report his lack of action to the general manager. Sheila would review the security tapes, see the same suspicious activity Angie picked up on, and he’d never hear the end of it. Best to handle it now.

When he clears his throat, he realizes he’s scared. He doesn’t want to do this. But the resolute set of Angie’s jaw tells him he has to, if he doesn’t want to lose face. Damn it.

He hurries down the length of the counter, coming out at the store entrance just as the two guys approach. “Excuse me, sir?” he asks, speaking to the taller guy. He keeps his gaze high, off the sweats, and silently prays, Please.

The guy stops, an amused smirk on his handsome face. “Yo, me?”

His friend comes up beside him and glares at Bill. “Jamal, who the fuck’s this?”

“Chill, man,” Jamal murmurs, holding out his arm as if trying to keep his friend back. To Bill, he says, “What you want with me?”

Oh, God, you don’t even know.

Office Romance Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 143,683 words

BLURB: Most of us spend forty hours or more a week at the workplace. Shuffling papers at a desk job, taking orders, waiting tables, working in the field, punching a time clock. Whether it's a career or simply a job to be done, we do whatever it takes to make a living. Sometimes the people we meet at work are among the best -- and the worst -- we'll ever know. From harmless, sweet flirting to fulfilling hot sex, these stories show you just how much some men enjoy their line of work!

This box set contains all J.M. Snyder's Working Men stories:


From At Your Service

The waiter comes back a few minutes later, glaring at us as if he thought we were going to leave and he's mad we didn't. With a sigh, he sets out silverware. "I'll be your waiter tonight. My name is --"

"Todd," someone behind him says.

I look up to find another waiter pushing Evan aside. Now this one is cute, with wispy blonde curls and tan skin and dark eyes that light up the room when he smiles. And he's smiling now, smiling at me, as he takes our napkins from Evan.

"Todd, at your service. I'll be your waiter tonight."

"This is my table," Evan starts, but Todd kicks him in the shin and he bends down to rub his leg. "Ow! Fuck, Todd." When Jen giggles, he frowns at us. "You're working the other side of the room, remember?"

Todd lowers his voice and turns away as if he doesn't want us to overhear. "Take one of my tables."

Evan's still frowning like he thinks it's a bad idea to switch.

Do it, I want to say, because Todd's a cutie and he smiled at me. I want him to smile again. He's so close, my menu brushes his wrist, and I watch the way the fine hairs on his arm stand up beneath the lamented paper when I move my hands.

In a heated whisper, Todd says, "Just this once, Evan. Please."

"Fine." Evan glares at us one last time like we're to blame, then stalks away.

When Todd turns to us again, that smile is back, and I can't help but grin at him. He's got a sexy way about him, and me, I'm glad Evan is gone.

Rolling his eyes, Todd leans down over the table and says, "Sorry about that, folks. You two ready to order?"

Jen points at the Jack Daniels chicken. "Can I have this?"

"We're out," Todd deadpans.

Jen's eyes widen and I think, Great. Out of chicken. There goes half the shit on the menu.

Then, in the same voice, Todd tells her, "I'm just kidding."


I laugh at the confusion on her face and Todd smiles again. He waves the question away. "Nothing." Still grinning, he winks my way. "You want the JD chicken?"

She nods and he turns to me. "What about you, handsome?"

My face heats at his words and I stare at the menu, unsure what it is I want. Him, I think, but he's not on the menu. "You had me there for a minute there about the chicken. That was a good one."

"I can be better," he says, coy.

Hot Jocks Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 108,192 words

BLURB: Eight hot, sexy stories about gay athletes finding love and lust on the playing field in one sizzling box set! Contains the stories:

Faceoff: Minor league hockey player Christian Magdziuk transferred to a new team, leaving his teammate and lover Ronnie behind. Now it's the first game of a new season, and he's facing off against his former teammates in the season opener. But does something still smolder between Christian and Ronnie after all this time?

Play On: This is Cordero’s rookie year with the intramural soccer team, but he catches Sean’s eye the first day of practice. Sean wastes no time letting this fly brother know just how sprung he is. The feeling’s mutual and there’s no denying the spark between them. Unfortunately, Sean is easily distracted by Cordero on the field. Can he get his mind back on the game before he's thrown off the team?

Served!: The night before Wildwood’s annual Beach Volleyball Tournament, Colby meets Van at a bar. The instant attraction is mutual. The next day when Colby runs into Van at the tournament, a quick look at the schedule shows the day could end with the two facing off through the volleyball net. To up the ante, Van proposes a little wager. Whoever loses gets whatever he wants from the winner.

Tee'd Off: Greg has loved golf since he was a kid. When he was twelve, he met Trevor Johns, who he caddied for throughout high school. Ten years later, Greg works at the Hermitage Country Club where he runs into Trey Johns, son of his former employer. Trey is quick to inform Greg he’s smitten with the caddy, but Greg has reservations. Greg almost blows a chance to hook up with Trey. Will he get another?

Batter Up: Rob Ritchie sneaks into the ballpark to watch practice and ends up going out with short stop, Mike Hennessey. It isn't until they face off on the baseball field that Mike realizes he slept with the enemy. Can Rob talk his way back into Mike's bed after the game?

Victory Lap: After a hard look at his life, Josh Helton ditches his abusive boyfriend and takes up running. On a morning jog he meets Chad, a sexy bicyclist who's everything Josh has always wanted in a guy. But Josh isn't confident in himself any more ... so it's up to Chad to make the first move.

Getting Wet: Rory Holt is the best swimmer on the team at State U. and he knows it. If he hopes to win Olympic gold one day, he can’t let anything distract him. But new teammate Chase Cohen is determined to catch Rory’s eye. Rory can’t deny the attraction he feels towards Chase, but when it costs him his spot on the leaderboard, he’s pissed. Is Chase after Rory’s position on the team, or Rory himself?

Out of Bounds: Jo plays basketball on his college team. At an off-campus party before the season begins, he hooks up with a guy named Kevin. Things heat up between them, leading to a night of hot sex. But the next day Jo learns Kevin has been hired as his team’s new assistant coach. Is their budding relationship over before it even begins? Or will Kevin go out of bounds to be with Jo?


From Victory Lap

As he neared the athletic building, he heard giggling and thought of the women on their bikes. Water splashed, more laughter, a locker slammed shut. He ducked into the breezeway and saw them, three pretty women in their late twenties, hair tied back, long legs and arms bared for summer. They wore tight biker’s shorts and loose tank tops, and their Keds were well-worn and dusty from use. The three of them crowded around the building’s only water fountain. One held the button down while another drank from it; the third held her friend’s hair back out of the way so it wouldn’t get wet. The laughter came because the one with her finger on the button kept letting go, stopping the flow of water just when her friend tried to drink. “Crissy, stop!”

Josh paused at one end of the short breezeway and leaned over, hands on his knees, to wait out their antics. The women saw him and giggled more -- this close, they sounded like a bunch of turkeys gobbling to each other in a language he couldn’t quite understand. “Stop,” the one said again, nodding her head in Josh’s direction. “You’re getting me all wet.”

That set them off again. Josh rolled his eyes and waited. Finally Crissy held down the button long enough for her friend to drink and the ladies switched positions. Then it started up all over again. Seriously? he thought, watching them. Can’t I just get a quick sip and be on my way?

Before he could ask, a door squealed behind him and their friend exited the men’s room. “Hey,” he said to Josh. When he biked past, Josh hadn’t had a moment to really look him over, but now ... sweet Lord.

Six five, maybe, very tall. Not slim really, but lean, arms and legs thick with muscle. He wore Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, a baseball cap clamped down backwards over dark, wavy hair, and a pair of wraparound, iridescent sunglasses hid his eyes. But the cut of his jaw, the set of his mouth, the hollow of his throat ... everything Josh could see only made him want more.

Hoping his voice didn’t really sound as high-pitched and squeaky as it did to his own ears, Josh limited his response to, “Hey.” Anything more would have turned into an invitation to go back inside the men’s room for a quick fuck.

Yeah, right, he berated himself. A guy like that isn’t interested in your fat ass.

Only he wasn’t fat anymore, was he?

The guy looked at the water fountain, then back at Josh. “Come on, girls. Can’t you see he’s waiting to take a drink?”

One of the girls gave Josh a seductive smile. “You look hot to me.” Her friends squealed with laughter, and she pressed the button to activate the fountain. “Let me hold it down for you.”

“Kelly, seriously?” The man groaned and turned to Josh. “I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s cool.”

As Josh moved toward the fountain, the ladies backed up to let him use it. At the last moment, Kelly moved out of the way, too, casting a hard look at the man with them. “Party pooper,” she mumbled as Josh bent to take a quick drink.

When he leaned over the fountain, one of the girls let out a loud wolf whistle that echoed through the breezeway. Another said, “Mmm, baby,” and her friend added, “Sexy butt.” Josh felt his face burn and he dipped it under the flow of water to cool it off. Was this how women felt when men catcalled to them? Part of him wanted to like it, but part of him couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.

Their male friend muttered, “God, you’re worse than a bunch of construction workers.”

“Guys like it,” one woman said. “You would, too, admit it. If we were a bunch of hunky dudes instead of your sister’s friends.”

“Shut up,” he growled under his breath.

But her words caught in Josh’s head and stayed there like a thorn, jostling as he moved but refusing to work itself free. If we were a bunch of hunky dudes ... did that mean what he hoped it meant?

Like you stand a chance with him, he reminded himself.

2017 Top Ten Gay Romance

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 150,024 words | 464 pages

BLURB: 2017 Top Ten Gay Romance brings together the best-selling short stories published by JMS Books that year.

From first love to true love, from submission to sensual, from heat to sweet and everything in between, the couples in these stories are sure to keep you turning the pages as you fall in love with them.

With stories by Kris T. Bethke, Becky Black, Linn Edwards, Casper Graham, Nell Iris, Shawn Lane, JL Merrow, Jessie Pinkham, Rick R. Reed, and J.D. Walker, this head-over-heels collection goes beyond bedtime reading. Whether happily ever after or happy for now, there’s an ending for everyone in here!


From Wake-up Call by Becky Black

The café was open again the next day. Dez saw Fran opening up at ten o’clock as he left by the street door. Fran gave him a wave, as he let in the short queue of customers already waiting outside. Dez waved back and hurried off to catch his bus.

He came back a couple of hours later and had to pass the window of the café to get to the door to the staircase. As he stood unlocking the door it suddenly opened, making his keys rattle against it. Fran stood there, wearing a big grin -- and another cat themed t-shirt, this one featuring a stylized ginger tabby sitting on a fence.

“Dez!” Fran said. “Oh, sorry.” He retrieved Dez’s keys from the lock and gave them back to him as Dez stepped inside. It was nice to be greeted so heartily, but a tad suspicious too.

“Fran. How’s your eye?” The swelling was still there and the bruising gruesome and purple.

“Oh, pretty bad. I’m mostly staying in the back to avoid scaring the customers too much. Can you come through a second? I have something for you.”


“Come and see.”

What the hell? Dez dropped the bag he’d been carrying and followed Fran through the door that led into the kitchen at the back of the café. It was small and crowded with four other people in it, all of them women and all wearing name badges in the shapes of cats.

“Girls,” Fran said, pulling the hesitating Dez inside by his good arm. “Here he is, the man of the hour. My hero, Dez!”

The women broke into a round of applause and a couple of cheers. Fran let go of Dez’s arm and picked up a frosted cake from a worktop. Piped on the top were the words Our hero, alongside some cat shaped decorations.

“The cats insisted I got you this.” Fran winked, which was extremely cute, but Dez found it hard to appreciate when his heart was pounding like it wanted to smash right though his ribs. The space was too confined. There were too many people. They’re just women, he tried to tell himself. Waitresses and cat carers. They’re no threat. Get a hold of yourself.

He couldn’t breathe ...

He backed up, bumped into the counter, knocking something off. It bounced and clonked on the tiled floor.

“I ... have to go.”

Fran was still holding the cake, but his face was a mask of concern now. The women were staring and the applause had stopped.

“Dez ... the cake ... you don’t want ...” Fran faltered the words out.

“I have to go.” Dez heard the panic in his voice. The fear. Fear of being trapped. Of not knowing what was behind him. He made it out of the door backwards and fled up the stairs, boots thundering and drowning out the music from the café.

2016 Top Ten Gay Romance

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 117,639 words | 380 pages

BLURB: 2016 Top Ten Gay Romance brings together the best-selling short stories published by JMS Books that year.

From first love to true love, from submission to sensual, from heat to sweet and everything in between, the couples in these stories are sure to keep you turning the pages as you fall in love with them.

With stories by Becky Black, T.A. Creech, Rebecca James, Shawn Lane, J.L. Merrow, A.R. Moler, Terry O'Reilly, Michael P. Thomas, Tinnean, and J.D. Walker, this head-over-heels collection goes beyond bedtime reading. Whether happily ever after or happy for now, there’s an ending for everyone in here!


From Love Lost, Love Found by Rebecca James

Dane dreamed he was kissing Sayer, body warm against his and mouth soft and pliable. He woke to his alarm beeping. Reluctantly, he threw back the covers and got out of bed, wishing he could go back to the dream, which seemed so real, he could still feel the phantom of Sayer’s lips on his.

On his way into the bathroom, Dane ran into Sayer coming down the hall, a smile on his lips until his gaze moved down Dane’s body to the crotch of his thin cotton pants, at which point his mouth fell open.

Dane glanced down, mortified to see he was sporting a sizable erection. His face heated.

“I was coming to see if your alarm went off. Dinner’s waiting.” Sayer turned and walked back down the hall.

Dane ducked into the bathroom and shut the door, leaning against it for a moment.

“Holy shit.”

He turned to the sink and splashed his face with cold water. When his cock had settled, he peed, flushed, and washed his hands.

By the time he entered the kitchen, he was more or less composed.

“Did you try out the art supplies?” Dane took a seat at the table, which was already set.

“Yeah, I couldn’t resist.” Sayer brought the last plate to the table, and they sat down.

“Smells wonderful.” Dane looked appreciatively at the spread.

Sayer had baked the chicken Dane had had in the refrigerator, and along with that, he’d cooked carrots, asparagus, and the few new potatoes Dane had had in the pantry. As they ate, Dane’s eyes kept going to Sayer’s face. He looked good -- rested and happy. The blue shirt he wore really brought out the color of his eyes, and Dane couldn’t help thinking about the dream and the kiss. His cock stirred in his pants, and Dane was glad that this time it was hidden by the table.

“Busy shift?” Sayer cut into his potato.

“An eighteen-wheeler caught fire on the interstate.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“Fortunately, no. We got there before things got too bad, and the driver was already out.”

“Must be pretty exciting, what you do.”

“Most of the time it’s pretty dull, actually. We sit around the firehouse and play cards, eat, work out, and sleep. I have a couple of books I keep there. That’s about it. Unless there’s a call, of course.”

“You said your co-workers gave you a hard time about me?”

“Yeah. They were just worried about me taking home a stranger.” Dane speared a carrot and popped it into his mouth.

“Do they know you’re gay?” Sayer tilted his head, eyes curious.

“I told them after Liz died. I couldn’t lie anymore. That’s also when I came out to my family.”

“How did that go?”

“Let’s just say we don’t talk anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Dane felt Sayer looking at him and raised his eyes, but although Sayer seemed to want to say something, he remained silent. The air charged between them, and Dane suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore. For food, anyway.

He kept eating, though, and when they were both finished, he stood to clear the table.

“My turn for dish duty.”

Sayer walked onto the back porch, and from the window Dane watched him sit down at the easel. As Dane scrubbed each dish before stacking it in the small dish washer, he thought about the look they’d exchanged during dinner. He hadn’t imagined the interest in the other man’s eyes, and he hadn’t imagined the way he’d wanted to cross the distance between them and ...

Dane took a deep breath. Down, boy. Take it easy.

Not Another One Hit Wonder

GENRE: Contemporary, Romance
LENGTH: 146 pages | 43,360 words

BLURB: When best friends Jamie Eckert and Derek Duran realized they were in love, they took their relationship to the next level. But then Derek's budding music career took off, and so did Derek.

Twenty years later, Jamie still lives in the small town of Ashbury, Virginia, where he grew up. He's grown up and moved on -- now he owns the family funeral home business and is raising Riley, his precocious six-year-old adopted daughter.

But emotions Jamie thought long buried are stirred up again when he gets an early morning removal call. The deceased is Derek's mother and Riley's babysitter, Mrs. Duran. Now Derek's back in town for the funeral, and he turns to Jamie for support ... in more ways than one.

Angry at Derek for not keeping in touch, and angrier at himself for still loving the man who left him behind, Jamie is torn between his professional duty and his feelings for Derek. Will he be able to put aside his past with Derek to carry out Mrs. Duran's final wishes? Or is Derek interested in rekindling their relationship after all this time?


I pull into the red-striped area next to my usual parking spot and pull up my handbrake hard enough to jerk the car forward a little. The striped spot is double-wide -- during a funeral, the police who will accompany us to the graveside park here -- but I pull in as close to the other car as I can. I don’t care if the other driver is grieving over a long-lost relative; that’s no excuse for driving like an idiot and parking where he doesn’t belong. And I plan to tell him just that, too. Even if he storms into the funeral home and tries to duck me, he has one hell of a surprise coming when he finds out I’m the person he’s here to see.

I glance over but the driver has his head down, digging for something on the seat beside him, and I can’t see his face. Which means he knows he’s done something wrong and is going to wait until I drive off before he gets out of the car. Surprise, I work here. What’s your excuse?

Grabbing my cup of coffee, I get out of the car and slam the door shut, hard. As I turn, the other car’s door opens. I see a shaggy head of dark hair -- still not looking at me, as if ignoring me will make me go away -- followed by a lithe male body. A Rolling Stones concert T-shirt with the sleeves torn off, skinny black jeans so tight they almost creak, a faded pair of black Converse that look as old as I am.

Really? I shake my head. That’s what you wear to a funeral home? Show some respect ...

Wait, I think I recognize those shoes.

My heart skips a beat, and my fingers go numb. I set down my coffee on the hood of my car before I can drop it. “Jesus Christ.” My voice squeaks a little when I ask, “Derek?”

The guy looks up, finally, giving his head a familiar little shake to toss his hair out of gray-green eyes I used to stare into for hours when I was younger. The same eyes that still haunt my dreams from time to time. Derek Duran, in the flesh. He’s no longer eighteen and perfect -- he’s aged like me, and the lines around his eyes and mouth suggest he’s had a rougher time of it than I have.

But when he smiles, one corner of his lips pulls up higher than the other to show off the eyetooth he broke on a seesaw when he was eight. In that instant, the years fall away from him, from us both. My body flushes hot all over and I feel like I did the last time I saw him, the last time I held him close.

“Hey, Jamie. Long time, no see.”

His voice is throatier than I remember, smoked out and husky and, I’ll admit it, more than a little sexy. It suits his grown-up appearance, and helps distance me from the boy I used to date.

I ask, “You know you’re in my spot, right?”

With a guilty start, he looks around, his gaze settling on the sign in front of his car. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I can move --”

“Don’t worry about it.” My earlier anger is gone, shocked out of me by his sudden appearance. Sudden? Who am I kidding? I knew he was on his way; I’ve been looking for him ever since we spoke on the phone.

You’ve been looking longer than that, a voice inside me whispers, but I tamp it down quickly before my thoughts can run away with it.

A smile spreads across my face as I look him over again. Damn, he still looks good. Not quite the same as I remember, but better in some ways, and I’ll take what I can get. I find myself falling right back into the way we were, as if no time has passed.

“Come on inside,” I tell him. “We can go over the plans your mother made for her funeral. I’m sure that’s why you’re here.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. It’s a snug fit, and the way the black denim stretches across his crotch draws my gaze down where it doesn’t belong. You know nothing about him now, I remind myself. Where he lives, who he’s dating, if he’s married. He’s here to talk about his mother’s funeral, for Christ’s sake. At least act professional.

As he steps around my car, I reach for my coffee, ready to lead the way. My mind is already several steps ahead -- I see me holding the door open for him, the two of us sharing an awkward grin, then the shocked look on Molly’s face when she realizes who’s followed me in.

But his hand catches mine before I can pick up the Starbucks cup. I raise a questioning eyebrow as he comes closer, right up on me now. When I take a step back, the car’s sideview mirror stops me.

“Jamie,” Derek sighs, his thumb stroking the inside of my wrist. His touch is warm and velvety and strong, and I can imagine his hands on other parts of my body all too easily. He stares at me, his eyes hungry, the same look in them that I remember from when we were together. His voice drops to a sexy rumble. “God, I’ve missed you.”

My knees go weak at the admission. “Me, too,” I breathe. “I mean --”

Before I can explain what I mean, his mouth covers mine with a needy, desperate kiss.

Dad’s Nerdy New Boyfriend

GENRE: Contemporary, Romance
LENGTH: 27,352 words

BLURB: When website designer Rick Pruitt takes his eight-year-old son Micah to see the latest Pokémon movie, he expects to be bored out of his mind. What he doesn't expect is to fall in love with the guy ahead of them in line.

Self-confessed nerd and Harry Potter look-a-like, Marty Owens runs a comic shop downtown. Marty needs a new website to help grow his business and Rick needs a guy he can eat cozy meals with, snuggle up to, and ... But no matter how many of Rick's boxes Marty checks, there's still Micah to consider. Fortunately Micah and Marty hit it off, connecting over a love of video games and all things Pokémon.

Rick starts coming by the comic shop after hours to work on Marty's website. Can they also build something long-lasting and meaningful offline, too?


“Go pick out our seats, but remember, if I don’t like them, I’ll pick out new ones.”

“Dad!” Micah cried.

Rick tried not to smirk. “And I’m sure Marty will want to sit with me. Go find a seat.”

Micah took a step back, then pouted at Marty. “Want to come with me? Dad can get popcorn for us all.”

“This isn’t a date,” Marty told him. “I’ll buy my own. Besides, he can’t carry three drinks and two tubs of popcorn at once. He might look strong and handsome, but he isn’t Superman.”

Rick felt his spine straighten, and now he was the one blushing a bit. He thinks I’m handsome? He looked at Marty in a new light. The guy owned a comic shop and could throw a compliment? “Careful there, bud,” Rick joked. “Another comment like that, and it might turn into a date after all.”

“I want to go on a date, too!” Micah crowed.

“You’re going to go get us seats,” Rick reminded him, “before all the good ones are taken. Now get.”

Micah’s pout was back, and he stormed away a few steps before he remembered he was heading off to see his favorite movie ever -- his words, Rick hoped the film lived up to them -- and began to race for the woman taking tickets.

Suddenly Rick found himself alone with Marty, and an awkward silence descended upon them. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, wondering if they would have anything to say to each other without his son to run interference between them. Think, he told himself. You can flirt. Say something witty.

Only nothing came to mind. For the first time in forever, Rick was drawing a blank.

Damn it.

Just when Rick thought they’d never have anything to say to each other ever again, Marty spoke. “Your son seems like a great kid.”

Relief flooded Rick. Finally, something to talk about. “Yeah, he is. For the record, though? I don’t usually bring him along on dates.”

“Really?” A smile toyed at the corners of Marty’s thin lips. “I’ve heard Robert Downey, Jr., likes kids.”

With a laugh that dispersed the tension building between them, Rick said, “I told you, I don’t know him, so if you’re only hanging around me hoping to get his number, you’re out of luck.”

“It’s not his number I want,” Marty admitted.

Rick stared at him, surprised by his boldness. Definitely not as nerdy as I thought. “I’m not sure we have all that much in common,” he said. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m not all that into Pokémon. I’m only here because Micah likes it. I don’t even really know what the damn things are.”

“The word is actually a contraction for the phrase pocket monsters,” Marty told him. “Don’t worry, I can pass as an adult when I have to. I do own a comic shop, after all. What about you?”

Rick raised an eyebrow in silent question.

Marty asked, “What kind of work do you do?”

“Oh, I’m self-employed.” That didn’t really explain anything, so Rick added, “Web design.”

At that, Marty perked up. “Okay, talk about luck. I’m glad I ran into you then, because I’m looking to start up a website to sell some things online. Don’t say eBay,” he added when Rick started to speak. “These are collectibles and I want top dollar for them. I’ve looked into starting my own e-commerce site but I’ll admit I don’t really know what I need. Maybe you could help me out?”

Rick felt a gurgle of unease in his stomach. Seriously? They had just met -- was Marty expecting free advice just because he and Micah had hit it off?

His hesitation must have spoken volumes, because Marty hurried to assure him, “I’d hire you, of course. Maybe you can come by the comic shop early to see what I’m talking about. What do you think?”

“Sure,” Rick said, relieved. “Just promise me there won’t be any Poké-talk, or I’ll send Micah over instead.”

Renegades, Rebels, and Rogues Box Set

GENRE: Erotica, Historical, Romance
LENGTH: 196 pages

BLURB: Visit the Old West, Colonial Java, and the Alaskan Territory in this box set of three historical gay erotic romances with hot-blooded renegades, rebels, and rogues. Contains the stories:

All Shook Up: Colonial Java, 1883. Eduard van De Lier’s obsessive attraction to dark-skinned men is just one of his many secrets. His wife Marien knows of his indiscretions, but she stays silent … until a former lover shows up with thoughts of blackmail. Reza was a crewman Eduard wooed on the ship that brought them to Java, and the last person Eduard expects to find in his drawing room.

Bounty of the Heart: For seven years, Emmett has harbored feelings for Jack, a notorious bounty hunter. Emmett aches for more than their platonic partnership. When a new bounty sends Emmett and Jack to Alaska, they run into Monty, a hunter Jack used to know who takes an interest in Emmett. Drawn to him despite Jack’s warnings, Emmett learns of the past they share and discovers why Jack has ignored him for so long.

Wanted: When cattle rustler Jesse McCray first meets Ethan Phillips, an idealistic tenderfoot passing through the town of Defiance on his way to the California coast, he falls hard. But the cattle baron runs Defiance and has a grudge against one of Jesse’s outlaw friends. A gunfight puts a price on the rustlers’ heads, branding them outlaws. Can Jesse protect Ethan from the lawmen gunning for him?


From Bounty of the Heart:

As the fire gutted low among the coals, Emmett leaned back, one hand on the ground behind Jack. His partner shrugged, as if that would somehow give him more space, but it didn't. For a long moment, Emmett stared into the flickering flames, gathering up his courage. It was cold, he'd reason, and the shelf on which they had camped was open to the elements. Perhaps they could push the bedrolls together, just for the night. Emmett thought if he could only close the gap between them, nature would take over and do the rest. He'd wake in Jack's embrace, his body still humming from the older man's attention. Maybe if Emmett said it was too cold; how could he argue with that? "Jack ..."

Out beyond their firelight, a twig snapped. Jack jerked his head, instantly alert. Emmett touched Jack, fisting his hand in the hide covering Jack's back. "What was that?" he whispered.

A small scurry of stones answered him. In one fluid motion, Jack stood and drew his pistol. Before Emmett could speak, Jack hissed, "Shh."

Emmett strained to hear something else, anything, over the quiet fire. He heard nothing, and wondered if it hadn't been an animal of some kind when Jack leveled his gun and fired.

The report was deafening. Jack aimed a second time. "Show yourself," he called, raising his voice. To Emmett, he muttered, "Bastard's been following us since Juneau."

"What?" Emmett clambered to his feet, ears ringing from the shot. Why hadn't Jack said something earlier?

In the silence, Jack cocked the pistol. "Get the fuck out here," he warned.

From the darkness came a man's voice, jovial and light. "All right already, Jack. Hold up, will you?"

"Who is it?" Emmett wanted to know. "And why didn't you tell me we were being followed?"

Jack's frown deepened. "You should've known."

Slowly a tall shape extracted itself from the shadows. As the stranger stepped into the circle of light thrown by their fire, a chill passed through Emmett. He took in the weathered cloak covering tight denim pants and a dark shirt, the long rifle slung over one shoulder, the ten-gallon Stetson pulled low over the stranger's face, and wondered how this man knew Jack by name. A fellow bounty hunter? An old friend?

The disgust that flitted across Jack's face as he holstered his pistol suggested otherwise. He took his seat again by the fire, dismissing the stranger. Tossing a small bundle of sticks into the flames, Jack growled, "What the hell do you want?"

The stranger shrugged easily. When he pushed the hat back from his face, he grinned wolfishly at Emmett, his thin, dark beard enhancing his lupine appearance. Tapping the hat firmly into place, he drawled, "Where'd you pick up the kid, Jack? He's too damn pretty to be your type."

Emmett blushed. The stranger couldn't be much older than he was himself. Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm not a kid."

"So I see." The stranger's gaze trailed down Emmett's body, audacious, before rising to meet Emmett's eyes. That look felt invasive almost, as if the man could see through the bulk Emmett wore and behold the body beneath. Emmett's cheeks burned furiously, more so when the stranger winked. "Can't imagine Jack will introduce us. Niceties have never been his strong suit. The name's Monty Becker. Pleasure's all mine. And you are ...?"

"Emmett." He took the hand Monty offered. Its grip was strong and sure, but Monty didn't let go right away -- his palm burned in Emmett's, his wicked grin never faltering. With difficulty, Emmett shook him off. "Do you know Jack?"

Monty laughed. "We go way back. You two mind if I join you?"

Without waiting for a response, he sank down to sit by their fire, folding his long legs Indian-style in front of him. Emmett, all too aware that he alone stood standing, took his own seat again beside Jack. This time, the elbow in his side was quick and sharp, roughly pushing him away. "I didn't say sit," Jack muttered, his voice as cold as the night around them.

"I didn't really ask," Monty replied.

Perchance to Dream Box Set

GENRE: Erotica, Fantasy, Paranormal
LENGTH: 258 pages

BLURB: Does true love really exist or is it just a fantasy? In this box set of gay romance by best-selling author J.M. Snyder, travel through time to Colonial America, visit a dystopic near future, or take a walk on the wild side among beasts, devils, and vampires. Each story embraces homoerotic love that transcends the ages and defies even death itself.

Contains the stories:

A Haunted Love: Nick works at a Colonial America site. One foggy night he meets David, the sexiest man Nick has ever seen. Because Nick's missed his bus, David invites him to stay the night at the inn. Though there's a spark between them, David is gone when Nick wakes. When David's claim of working as an apprentice doesn't pan out, Nick begins to wonder about him, and the ghost stories he's never believed true.

Devil of a Night: Carlos must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because he and his lover Steve find themselves lost in the back roads of New Jersey, what's known as the Pine Barrens. Half-joking, Carlos tells Steven a local legend about a mysterious creature called the Jersey Devil. Then they're run off the road by ... something, Steven can't say what. He feels it out there in the woods watching them. Waiting ...

Hunted: Once a month, the Hunt begins ... Hartley is a cervidae, human in form with deer-like features. When the Hunt starts. Hartley knows he's tempting fate. Almost silent in the darkness, a felidae -- half-human, half-lion -- stalks him, but something more than bloodlust runs through Tau's veins tonight. He's hungry for Hartley. Can the shadowed alleys of Richmond hide this forbidden animal attraction?

Inked in Blood: Tom stops at Tattoo 804 just as it's about to close. Rist has a fetish for vampires and agrees to ink Tom after hours. What begins as a simple procedure turns erotic when Rist notices how hard Tom is for him. They give into their primal desires right in the tattoo chair. But things take an unusual turn and Tom wonders if Rist is just into a little blood play ... or if he isn't one of the undead.

The Last Thing on My Mind: Yesterday he told me he loved me. Today we're dead. Two college guys on spring break. Friends, roommates, lovers. A moment's distraction while driving on the highway and suddenly their lives change. Forever. It's an easy promise to make when you know you won't live that long. But what happens in the afterlife?

Lover's Cross: After a bad car accident, Jory's lover Peter assures him he's doing fine. But when Jory attends a get-well party at the house of a coworker, he's surprised no one asks him how Peter is. More disconcerting, Peter's gold cross necklace is missing, and Jory suffers from headaches whenever his best friend Bruce brings up the accident. Where is the cross? And why does Bruce keep asking about Peter?

Persistence of Memory: Five years ago Joah was culled -- kidnapped by the government to be trained as a soldier. In the process, they erased his memory, destroying his past, his dreams, everything but his name. Armed with that alone, Joah escapes from the facility in search of someone to help him recall the man he used to be. That person is Tobin, Joah’s husband, who never gave up hope of finding him again.


From Persistence of Memory


The word races through my mind, looking for something to connect with, but it's been so long since I've heard or even thought it that I have no concept of freedom anymore. Even now it amazes me and I can't stop to think about it or I might freeze and then they'll catch me and I'll lose this wind rushing against my hot skin, this grass swishing against my legs, this burning in my lungs as I run. I can't stop, not now, not until the smoky buildings that block out the night sky are just bad memories. Not until the steel fencing that looms in the darkness is behind me, miles in the past, and the alarms that ring around me, raising the guards, are muffled screams I hear only in nightmares.

When the first shouts cry above the klaxons, I jump for the fence. Even though I know it's deactivated, I half-expect to feel its electric bite as my fingers fold through the chained links. How long will it take someone to realize the current has been cut? Long enough for me to vault over the top, I hope. With moves I've rehearsed over and over again in my mind, I climb to the top of the fence, risking a glance back at the armed guards who begin to pour from the building. The hard echoes of boot heels on concrete ring through the courtyard, and the first shots ping into the night as I reach the top of the fence. There's no wire, nothing keeping me in, nothing but the way they tried to break my spirit and drag me down.

But it was all a lie. Everything -- from the moment I came here, I've been living a lie, their lie. And I almost believed it. Almost.

My hands close over the steel rod at the top of the fence and I'm free, I'm free ... Below me the guards are shouting at each other, their guns aimed at me, the shots loud around me in the night, but I'm almost free --

Pain explodes through my leg, flames licking across my thigh like a wildfire, and in a graceless heap I tumble over the top of the fence. I can't catch myself in time; my hands scrape helplessly against steel as I fall. When I hit the ground, pain shoots up my back, balls into fists behind my eyes, and punches my mind so that I can't think, can't act, can't breathe. The voice in my head tells me to stop, stand still and await directions, wait for the guards to take me back.

Back inside, back in there. My body is numb, listening to the reasonable, bland voice I've heard since they imprisoned me. The voice that tells me the lies. The voice that keeps me from being free.

The dull scrape of steel on concrete as the gate opens goads me into action. Like one of their bullets, I fling myself into the dark of night, stumbling across the tall grass, heading for the trees and underbrush beyond. I've measured the distance in my mind; I've calculated the steps. But I hadn't counted on the pain eating away at my leg, gnawing on my bones like a hungry mutt, and as I run I try to shake it free from my body. I tell myself I don't feel the blood that drenches my pants, I don't feel the ache in my head. I don't feel anything, I don't think, I don't even breathe anymore, because each breath is labored and gasped, flames that burn down my throat and sting my lungs, filling them like a dragon's bellows. I just need to get to the trees, lose myself in their growth and then I'll be free.

>A word I almost forgot existed. A concept I told myself didn't apply to me. The alarms fade in the distance, and the angry shouts of the guards become lost in the rustling branches I push aside as I tumble into the woods. I let the word roll through my mind, looking for something to define it, something to cling to.


Love on the Rocks Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Romance
LENGTH: 144 pages

BLURB: Loving another isn't always easy. When romance first blooms, everything seems perfect, but soon the veneer peels away and trouble sets in. The stories in this collection focus on gay men who try to make their relationships work in a world intent on pulling them apart. A young man brings his first boyfriend home to meet his parents, even though he's terrified of his father's reaction. A flirtatious coworker sparks a fight between two committed men. A cam whore is tempted by an online admirer who tests his love for his boyfriend. The men in these seven tales are in relationships for the long haul, if they can learn how to make things work. They all want to live happily ever after ... eventually. Contains the stories:

Lesser of Two Evils: In college, Jared falls in love with Larry but isn't out to his parents. Then Larry asks to meet Jared's family. Jared knows his sexuality will distant him further from his father. Unless he can find some way to soften the blow ...

I'll Take the Rain: My boyfriend is the jealous type, and I always seem to say or do the wrong thing at the wrong time. Unfortunately, our roommate only sees us when we're at our worst. I hope her misplaced concern won't come between us. Or maybe it’ll be my own stupidity that tears us apart.

We're Not Fighting: Jack is in a committed relationship with Aiden and, in Jack’s mind, no one else matters. So when a new girl in the office flirts with him, he thinks it’s nothing. But Aiden is pissed. Jack wants the whole thing to blow over, but it looks like Aiden’s about to blow up.

Crash and Burn: When Chris discovers his lover Aaron is secretly taking prescription drugs for depression, he feels as if he doesn't know Aaron any more. He's afraid to bring up the pills he found, but more afraid of losing his lover. Will he be able to step in and say something before it’s too late?

Don't Be Late: Who says marriage is bliss? Blake and Jeremy had more time together dating than they do as man and husband. Working long hours keep them apart, and their schedules rarely sync during the week. They only make love on the weekends. One hectic day follows another. Will they ever get a moment alone?

Wanna Cyber?: Ritchie is a cam whore; he loves the internet. His boyfriend Doug isn't exactly technologically savvy and is worried about what Ritchie gets up to online. He trusts Ritchie, really -- it's everyone else he isn't too sure about. One evening while Doug is at class, he decides to chat up Ritchie without revealing himself to his boyfriend, just to see what happens. The response he gets surprises him.

Picture Postcards: Donny has loved his friend Greg for years but never told him. They shared one brief night together before Greg married Megan and Donny ... well, Donny tried to move on. He thinks he's succeeded in relegating Greg to the past until he receives a postcard from his friend that suggests Greg still thinks of that night, too.


From Crash and Burn:

In the bathroom I brush my teeth, peering into the mirror that’s already fogging up from Aaron’s shower. “Can you turn that off?” he asks, raising his voice over the sound of rushing water. “I don’t have any pressure here.”

Spitting a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, I rinse my mouth and turn off the faucet. Then I lean over the counter, dangerously close to the mirror, and study the dark smudge of my hair. It’s cut as short as it can possibly be and still be considered hair, but I see the ends are beginning to curl already and I want to shave the whole mess off again. “I need a haircut,” I say, not because Aaron cares, but just to talk. I like when it’s the two of us alone and we don’t talk about anything but stupid shit. I can pretend we’ve been married for years, we’re that comfortable with each other, which makes me hope that one day we really are married and we’re still like this. I want that more than anything else out of life.

“Leave your hair alone,” Aaron says, splashing in the shower behind me. “There’s nothing left to cut.”

“But it’s starting to curl.”

He doesn’t reply because he likes my wavy hair, he always has. I know he secretly wants me to forget about cutting it and let it grow back long and thick, the way it was when we first met years ago. Secretly, I’ve thought about doing that for him.

Frowning in the mirror, I pick at the hair along my chin and think I should shave it off. Just for something different. But I stopped shaving a few months back in the hopes of looking older, more sophisticated. The moment the opening came up in sales, actually. I ditched the baby face and the boyish hair, started wearing ties and cuff links, the whole nine yards. Has anyone in the office noticed yet? If they have, it hasn’t done jack towards getting me a raise.

I don’t even own a razor any more. I was a disposable blade sort of man, but from the look of it, I’m never going to sport more than a shadow of stubble anyway. Aaron has a nice electric razor -- even though he sports a grizzly morning-after look himself on the days he has to work first shift, he has the Norelco his mom bought him for Christmas last year.

“Can I use your razor?” I ask. Before he can answer, I duck under the sink and reach for his little black travel bag. What’s he going to say, no?

Surprisingly, he does. “You’re not shaving your head.”

“I’m not,” I promise with a laugh. That would be cute, me trying to chop off what little I have. I can picture it now, hands behind my head, that damn razor buzzing in my ears, and who knows what the hell I’d look like then? “Just want to get this scruff off my chin.”

“Dip it in milk and let the cat lick it off,” he says.

I don’t know if he’s being serious or not, so I don’t bother to answer. Instead, I squat on the ground and pull his bag into my lap. Why he keeps all his toiletries in it instead of on the shelf in the medicine cabinet I cleared off specifically for him, I don’t know. The bag overflows with all sorts of stuff -- a well-squeezed tube of toothpaste, an extra toothbrush, a pair of my diamond-cut cuff links (so that’s where they went), three little black combs like the ones you get at a barber shop, Chapstick (also mine), cologne, one of those tiny hotel soaps he swiped from somewhere God knows how long ago, a trial size bottle of shampoo probably from the same hotel.

Beneath it all is the razor. As I pull it out, I hear the unmistakable rattle of pills. Aspirin, I think, because who doesn’t carry aspirin? I have a bottle in the cabinet above the sink, a huge generic bottle from K-Mart that has all sorts of pills in it, Advil and Tylenol and Aleve, even some Motrin my sister left behind. But these pills aren’t in one of those over-the-counter bottles, they’re prescription. I frown as I read the label because I don’t know what Effexor is.

Ask him.

I can’t. I didn’t know he was taking anything on a regular basis -- anything prescribed, when had he seen the doctor? And part of me knows he’ll get mad if he knows I found them. There’s a reason he didn’t tell me about them in the first place. If I ask now, it’ll only start a fight.

The date on the label is a few weeks back, right around when he doubled up his shifts to cover those in maintenance who were out on vacation. Maybe these are stress pills. Take one tablet three times a day, the label reads. I think a moment and try to remember if I’ve seen him take any. I want to say no.

Unless he’s not taking them.

I open the bottle and shake out a handful of the shield-shaped pills into my palm. The bottle’s more than half-empty -- if he isn’t taking them, he’s throwing them out three at a time, because I can see they’re disappearing right on schedule. He came in here last night, remember? After he couldn’t get it up, he came in here and brushed his teeth and probably took one then.

Behind me the shower cuts off. I dump the pills back into the bottle and twist the cap on quickly -- I don’t want him to think I’m snooping. I hate arguing with him about anything, anything at all, and I just know these pills are asking for it. I shove the bottle back into his bag and rummage around in it some more to cover them up with the rest of his things. Then I put the razor back in, because I’m no longer interested in shaving.

Love Is Proud

GENRE: Contemporary, Romance
LENGTH: 138,562 words | 352 pages

BLURB: In the early morning hours of Sunday, June 12, 2016, a gunman entered Pulse, a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida, and opened fire. Forty-nine innocent people lost their lives that night, and many more were injured. The LGBT community reeled when the news broke, not only because it was the deadliest mass shooting in the US to date, but because the act of terror and hatred was aimed directly at them.

In the aftermath, many of us struggled for a way to express our grief and fear. With that goal in mind, the authors of JMS Books sought an outlet for their emotions; thus, this anthology of short stories and poems was created.

Love Is Proud celebrates queer love in all its forms, showing that love must triumph over hate. Whether it's spending a quiet evening together at home, a night out on the town, or attending the local Pride event, this collection embraces how empowering love can be between men -- or women, or any and every shade under the LGBTQIA umbrella.

Featuring never before published work from 49 different authors, Love Is Proud is a collaborative effort whose entire proceeds will go to Equality Florida to benefit the victims and their families of the Pulse nightclub shooting. All the work in the collection, including the editing, has been donated to offset the costs. This stunning anthology will be a charitable keepsake whose message of pride in who and how we love is an enduring testament to all those affected by this tragedy.

Contains my short story, The Reasons Why. After a long day at work, Eliot comes home to find his lover Ben hasn't made a dent in the honey-do list he left. He's on the verge of getting angry -- as a full-time writer, surely Ben has the free time to do something around the house during the day, right? -- when he discovers what Ben did spend the day doing. It seems Ben was thinking about Eliot all along.


From The Reasons Why:

Ben leaned his head back, and his pale gray eyes crinkled into half-moons when he smiled up at Eliot. "Hey, sexy. Missed you. Kiss me."

Eliot bent down to plant a perfunctory kiss on Ben's lips.

Before he could stand, Ben grabbed his tie to keep him in place. "Nice try," Ben murmured. "Now kiss me for real. Like you mean it."

With an exasperated sigh, Eliot rolled his eyes but did as asked. He covered Ben's mouth with his own, then opened his lips, parting Ben's to ease his tongue between his lover's. Ben tasted like lazy summer days, wine coolers and Doritos, and beneath the mingling fizz was a flavor all his own.

Eliot pulled back first and Ben ran a hand down the front of his shirt, as if smoothing down his tie. "Come sit with me," he said, raising his legs to make room on the couch.

But Eliot wasn't in the mood. "What's for dinner?"

Ben's expression didn't change. "What were you thinking?"

Eliot pulled his tie out of Ben's hand and stood. "You haven't started it yet?"

"I will," Ben said, reaching for him, but Eliot stepped away. "Eliot, I said I will ..."

"Do you know what time it is? What have you been doing all day?" Eliot asked. Was it too much to ask? He'd spent the last eight hours at work so what, Ben could sit on his ass playing video games? "Must be nice to sit around and do nothing. I thought you had a story to write."

"I do," Ben said, defensive. "I wrote all morning, dinner just slipped my mind, okay? I'll start it in a few minutes."

"Do you even know what you're going to make?" Eliot wanted to know.

Tossing his phone aside, Ben sat up. "Come here, will you? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Eliot said. "I'm tired, and I'm hungry, and --"

"Come here." Ben caught his hand and pulled him closer.

Eliot tried to resist, but who was he kidding? This was his husband. He never could withstand Ben's charms for long.

Opening his legs, Ben guided Eliot into the span between his knees. He wrapped his arms around Eliot's waist, then rested his chin on Eliot's belly, looking up at his lover. "There we go," he said, hugging Eliot tight. "Can't we just cuddle for a second? I haven't seen you all day --"

"You could've started cooking before I got home." Eliot ran a hand through Ben's thick head of hair, tugging gently when he reached the ends. "What am I going to do with you?"

Working Men 2 Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 59,946 words | 202 pages

BLURB: Working Men 2 is a collection of 8 short erotic tales focusing on men who find love and lust both on -- and off -- the clock. From harmless, sweet flirting to fulfilling hot sex, these stories show you just how much some men enjoy their line of work. Contains the stories:

Blurring the Lines: Greg is straight, or so he thinks, but makes money offering himself to gay men online. When he hooks up with the handsome, rich RC, he doesn't understand why such a guy needs to pay for companionship. They get to know each other better, and Greg gets scared when he starts to fall for RC. Will their next appointment be their last, or will he embrace something he didn’t even know he was looking for?

Hot Merchandise: A shoplifter attracts the attention of Bill's coworker, so he has to step in to avoid a scene. When he's asked to empty his pockets, the potential thief agrees ... but only in the privacy of the store's back room, where Bill discovers just how hot his merchandise is.

Knocking Boots: Johnny thinks he's the only guy on the ranch interested in sharing a fellow cowboy's bedroll ... until he witnesses an illicit tryst between his foreman Hank and another ranch hand named Delfino. After watching Delfino pleasure Hank, Johnny can't get the Mexican vaquero out of his wet dreams. He wants Delfino to do the same things to him, and he'll do whatever it takes to hook up with the cowboy.

Maintenance!: When maintenance man Elliot enters a resident's apartment to fix the air conditioner, he interrupts Donnie's shower. Confronted with the naked tenant, suddenly he wants to blow something other than an A/C line.

Out for Delivery: Jeremy spends the last night of the weekend finishing an article he needs to submit to his editor first thing Monday morning. When someone knocks on his door, he's tempted to ignore it but answers anyway, only to find a sexy delivery guy outside with something hot and ready in his hands.

Quintessential: At 43, Jerry is a swinging bachelor, still sexy and he knows it. But when a young hipster coworker named Quin discovers a porn video on Jerry’s laptop, he threatens to turn Jerry in... unless they can come to some sort of mutual arrangement that will benefit them both.

Rub Me the Right Way: Mitch Adams doesn’t like the fact that his boyfriend Daryl, a masseuse, spends his working hours touching other people’s bodies. So Mitch decides to do a little investigative work and discover for himself what exactly happens in the massage parlor. But when Daryl finds out about the appointment, he decides to give his lover a rub-down Mitch won’t soon forget.

Yes-Man: Bryce Howerton is an executive assistant, and he's very good at his job. On any given day, he must juggle his boss's hectic schedule with his own, not to mention the daily conferences with Mr. Eckhart himself. Bryce is kept very busy, but during his initial job interview, his boss taught him everything he'd need to know to become a yes-man.


From Quintessential:

Quin made a few final taps on the keyboard, then sat back as the laptop emitted the familiar Windows shutdown chime. The monitor flicked off -- Jerry saw the reflection in Quin’s glasses -- then the laptop began to reboot. Finally Quin told him, “A particularly nasty virus has locked up the BIOS system. The computer isn’t going to start until it’s removed.”

“I have Norton,” Jerry tried to explain.

Quin shook his head. “Norton can’t detect it. None of the antivirus programs even know it exists.”

Curious in spite of himself, Jerry asked, “How’d I get it?”

Now Quin turned and looked at Jerry over the top of his glasses. “A porn site.”

Suddenly Jerry’s palms felt slick and his heart started to race. “What? That’s ridiculous. I didn’t --”

“You’d be surprised how many people claim the same thing, Mr. Bennett.” Quin started typing again, even though the computer hadn’t finished starting up. “But the only way you could’ve gotten this thing is if you were on a website that’s on our company ban list.”

“How do you know?” Jerry countered. “Maybe it’s more widespread than you think ...”

“Hardly,” Quin said. “I should know. I invented it.”

Jerry stared at him, incredulous. “What?”

Quin continued typing and didn’t bother looking at Jerry as he spoke. “I programmed our network to install the virus whenever one of the banned sites was visited. You visit a blocked page, you get the virus. Then you call me, I have to remove it, and report you for violating company policy.”

“Now see here --”

Jerry’s words dried up in his throat as Quin turned the laptop around. On the screen was an extremely graphic video showing a naked, muscular, sexy man stroking his hard cock. Jerry recognized the video -- he should’ve, he watched it online last night, matching his own hard jerks with the buff porn star’s. He knew what came next, a second man, also naked, bent over the arm of a sofa, ass cheeks spread in anticipation. The first man advancing on the second, dick in hand. Pushing the tip of his cock between those sweet buttocks, the moans, the grunts, the hard thrusts ... Jerry had watched the video twice before he allowed himself to get off on it.

Then he’d erased his browser history, cleared his computer cache, deleted his temporary internet files -- he knew how to do that much, at least -- and thought no one would be the wiser.

Now this.

Softly, Quin said, “You dirty old man.”

Jerry felt his face flush hot. “At least I’m old enough to legally watch it.”

“I turned thirty last month,” Quin informed him. “And you can’t legally watch it on a company computer.”

Jerry ran a hand through his thin, close-cropped hair. “Look, can’t you just delete this and forget about it? You don’t have to tell anyone. You don’t --”

“I don’t,” Quin agreed.

Jerry let out a relieved sigh. “God, thank you --”

“But what’s in it for me?”

Jerry frowned. There was a calculating look in those large, dark eyes now, and Quin held him pinned with that frank stare. “What do you mean?”

Quin shrugged. “If you want me to keep quiet ...”

“What do you want?” Jerry asked.

Quin made a show of looking around the room. Obviously nothing was in it that might interest someone like him, but finally his gaze fell on the laptop’s screen, where two buff, naked men were fucking furiously. One eyebrow arched, and he glanced sideways at Jerry. “I hear you play the field.”

A spark of interest raced down Jerry’s spine and spread out, tingling his fingers and toes, exciting his dick. “You could say that,” he admitted. “I’m single, and I like to have a good time.”

“You play for both teams,” Quin said.

Jerry nodded. “Whoever strikes my fancy. I’m not particular.”

Quin let the moment stretch between them, then finally shrugged. “I like older men. Maybe we can work something out.”

Now Jerry saw where this was going. With a languid grin, he leaned across the desk and turned on the charm. The kid was cute, after all. Lowering his voice, he murmured, “So what are you doing after work?”

Quin’s gaze turned back to the laptop and the two men screwing onscreen. “I’m sure we can find something to do.”

Everyday Hero Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Superhero
LENGTH: 102,610 words

BLURB: Vic Braunson is a city bus driver who falls in love with Matt diLorenzo, a swimmer he meets at the gym. When they finally hook up, there's no denying the energy between them. Something about Matt brings out the best in Vic -- literally. He gives Vic superhuman powers. Can they learn to live with these abilities without losing each other? This box set continues the adventures in the super sexy, super powered world of Vic and Matt! Contains the stories:

Seventh Inning Stretch: When Vic and Matt face off on opposing teams in a charity ball game, Matt's afraid his lover's superhuman powers will give him an edge. He suggests they abstain from sex until after the game, but before long Matt discovers that keeping his hands to himself is easier said than done. And when the two teams face off against each other, he finds it almost impossible to keep his mind on the game.

Outage: Roxie drags Matt to a boring workshop on office admin. When a winter storm knocks out power to the city, they are trapped in an elevator downtown. Vic’s current superpower is an electromagnetic ability that will allow him to rescue the pair. But fallen power lines & the building’s concierge stymie Vic. Then there’s Roxie, who doesn’t yet know of Vic’s powers or how he gets them.

An Evening with the Rush Hour Hero: In the time Vic and Matt have been together, the powers have become such an integral part of Vic that he doesn't hesitate to use them when his help is needed. One evening on his way home from work, he witnesses a traffic accident that ties up the interstate and responds without thinking. But when Matt hears about the accident on the evening news, Vic has a lot of explaining to do.

Worst. Power. Ever.: Vic Braunson shares a very sexy secret with his lover, Matt diLorenzo -- something in Matt's semen gives Vic superhuman powers. While the powers fade over time, most of them come in handy. But every now and then, he draws a doozy ...

Santa Vic: Vic's boss asks him to don the Santa suit for the company's employee family Christmas dinner -- again. The kids love him. One little boy in particular wants to make sure Vic -- or rather, Santa Vic -- doesn't forget his sister, who's in the hospital for the holiday.

No Place Like Home: A tornado and washed out road take Matt on a detour he didn't expect -- unconscious in a ditch. When he comes to, he finds himself in the merry old Land of Oz. As he struggles to find his way home, Vic has a more pressing problem -- locating Matt. Can the two find each other before it's too late?

Abstinence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder: Vic and Matt’s tradition to abstain from sex for the week between Christmas and New Year's has Matt frustrated, to say the least. Can Matt make Vic change out the tradition for a new one that has them loving each other instead? Or will Vic insist on waiting until midnight rings in the new year before either man finds release?


From Outage:

Matt was still sitting on the floor of the elevator, banging his head back against the wall in time with the mantra of his lover's name that scrolled through his thoughts, when he felt Vic's presence flood his mind. With a jerk, he sat up straight, his heart pounding in relief. "Vic?"

Across the small car, Roxie eyed him warily. "No," she said, cautious. "He's not here. You okay, Matt?"

He shook his head and closed his eyes to shut her out. ::Vic?:: he called out mentally. ::Oh God, Vic, we're stuck in an elevator and I'm about this close to losing it, I swear. I hate these things.::

The sensation of strong arms enveloped him, a psychic bear hug that chased away the fear that gnawed at the edges of his sanity. ::I'm on my way.:: Vic sounded so reasonable, so sure, that his confidence helped stave off Matt's anxiety. ::Where are you exactly?::

Matt didn't know. He tried to picture the office building they were in, but he hadn't seen very much of it while driving this morning -- he remembered a dark awning with a street number on it in ornate gold lettering, then he'd passed the building and drove into the underground garage. He wasn't even sure where he had parked now. Before panic could set in, Vic tamped that emotion down with his own psyche and asked, ::Is Roxie there? Does she know?::

"Hey Roxie." Matt roused himself to find her looking at him, distrustful. "Where are we?"

Her eyes narrowed as if she couldn't tell if he were being serious or not. "In an elevator," she said, speaking slowly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I mean ..." Matt sighed, exasperated. "The building. What building is this?"

With a frown, Roxie wanted to know, "Why?"

"Roxie!" Turning into himself, he told Vic, ::God, she's being deliberately mean today.::

::Then tell her why,:: Vic countered. ::It'll knock her down a peg or two.::

Matt gasped. ::I can't. Vic, I couldn't even tell you --::

::You did eventually.:: Matt felt his lover's smile warm him up inside. ::Hell, I found out myself anyway, and she's going to find out, too, when I ride in there like the cavalry. You might as well tell her. What's the worst that could happen?::

What indeed?

Playing the Field: Volume 1

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica
LENGTH: 55,100 words | 178 pages

BLURB: Playing the Field is a series of hot, sexy stories about gay athletes finding love and lust on the playing field. This first volume collects the first four stories of this best-selling series in one sizzling box set! Contains the stories:

Faceoff: Minor league hockey player Christian Magdziuk transferred to a new team, leaving his teammate and lover Ronnie behind. Now it's the first game of a new season, and he's facing off against his former teammates in the season opener. But does something still smolder between Christian and Ronnie after all this time?

Play On: This is Cordero’s rookie year with the intramural soccer team, but he catches Sean’s eye the first day of practice. Sean wastes no time letting this fly brother know just how sprung he is. The feeling’s mutual and there’s no denying the spark between them. Unfortunately, Sean is easily distracted by Cordero on the field. Can he get his mind back on the game before he's thrown off the team?

Served!: The night before Wildwood’s annual Beach Volleyball Tournament, Colby meets Van at a bar. The instant attraction is mutual. The next day when Colby runs into Van at the tournament, a quick look at the schedule shows the day could end with the two facing off through the volleyball net. To up the ante, Van proposes a little wager. Whoever loses gets whatever he wants from the winner.

Tee'd Off: Greg has loved golf since he was a kid. When he was twelve, he met Trevor Johns, who he caddied for throughout high school. Ten years later, Greg works at the Hermitage Country Club where he runs into Trey Johns, son of his former employer. Trey is quick to inform Greg he’s smitten with the caddy, but Greg has reservations. Greg almost blows a chance to hook up with Trey. Will he get another?


From Play On:

Cordero lives on the second floor. Sean troops up the stairs behind him, footfalls echoing off the metal risers. Between the two of them, they sound like Armageddon arriving. At the door to Cordero’s apartment, Sean takes a moment to lean against his new friend -- there are no other students around, no one to see. He presses his chest against Cordero’s back, laying his body flush along Cordero’s, and the ache at his crotch fits between Cordero’s buttocks perfectly. Smoothing his hands down Cordero’s sides, Sean leans his head on Cordero’s shoulder and sighs. “You one fine mo-fo, you know?”

“Keep talking like that, we ain’t gonna get in the door,” Cordero chides, but Sean can hear the smile in his voice.

Sean’s hand dips lower, grasping at the front of Cordero’s shorts. He only manages to cop a quick feel, however, before the door opens and Cordero’s leading the way into his place. All the student apartments are the same -- kitchen to the left, living room on the right, one bedroom straight ahead and a hallway leading off, probably to the bathroom and another bedroom out of sight. Sean’s been to a few parties on this side of campus so he’s familiar with the cramped corners, but compared to his dorm room, the apartment is luxurious. Not for the first time, he tells himself he has to sign up to move over here next year.

“Want a drink?” Cordero asks, tossing his key onto the small table in the kitchen that serves as a place to eat.

Closing the door behind him, Sean catches the back of Cordero’s shirt in one hand and reels the rookie to him. “Maybe later.” His gaze is drawn to Cordero’s large pink lips, and Sean licks his own in anticipation. “Come here. I been wanting you all blessed day.”

Without warning, Cordero pins Sean back against the door. Hands on either side of Sean’s head, Cordero holds him in place, thrusting his hips into Sean’s until their erections grind together with a sweet ache. “You want this?” Cordero purrs.

A throaty moan escapes Sean as he nods. The pressure on his cock feels so right. “Damn straight.”

“Think you can handle it?” Cordero leans down to touch his mouth to Sean’s neck -- his breath is hot along Sean’s skin, and does delicious things to Sean’s libido that make Sean rub against him, wanting more. “Don’t front with me, homeboy.”

“I ain’t fronting,” Sean swears. He leans his head back as Cordero’s nose tickles along his throat. Then Cordero sticks out his tongue, hot and damp, and licks along the curve of Sean’s chin, just under the fine line of stubble that Sean shaves away every morning. Fisting his hands in Cordero’s shirt, Sean gasps. Yes. With his tongue, Cordero traces along Sean’s jaw line to breathe in Sean’s ear. Two words, low and sexy. Two words that weaken Sean’s knees. If Cordero wasn’t holding him, he’d melt to the floor.

“Show me.”

The challenge in his voice thrills Sean. Before he can do anything Cordero pulls away, shrugging off his hands to move out of reach. Turning his back to Sean, Cordero shucks off his shirt -- Sean watches the firm muscles in his back flex as he pulls the shirt over his head, and notices a black tattoo on his left shoulder, some kanji character Sean doesn’t recognize. As Sean looks on, Cordero heads for the hallway, turns the corner, and is gone.

Sean waits, his mind a blur, his whole body humming with desire. Weren’t they just ... so where’s he ... what ...?

A black hand curves around the wall, followed by Cordero’s head as he peeks back. “Well?” he asks. “You coming?”

Sean grabs his hard dick through his shorts and thrusts into his palm. “You even have to ask?”

Cordero laughs. “Then get your white ass over here already.”

Best Gay Erotica 2014

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica
LENGTH: 222 pages

BLURB: Come get your nasty on! With Best Gay Erotica 2014, lauded literati Larry Duplechan continues the grand Labonté tradition of serving up steaming man-on-man sex stories of the highest literary quality. Sometimes rough and always ready, Best Gay Erotica 2014, is filled with stories of rough riders, silver fox studs, and hustlers, as well as coming out and coming of age youth.

With guest judge Joe Mannetti (former erotic-video performer and Mr. International Daddy Bear) picking this crop of stories, you’ll agree — he knows “hot” when he sees it. Pick up Best Gay Erotica 2014, but be sure to keep one hand free.

Contains my story, My Best Friend's Dad. I had the worst crush on Mikey Pierce's dad. The week before leaving for college, I stayed at Mikey's while Mr. Pierce and his buddies gambled. When I snuck downstairs for beers, the card game was over and I thought all the visitors had left. But Mr. Pierce wasn't alone in the dining room. The man with him owed a couple hundred bucks from playing cards, and I had a ring-side seat as he paid up.

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From My Best Friend's Dad:

At the bottom of the stairs, I peeked around the wall to get a good look in the kitchen. To my surprise, those louver doors were also shut, though they didn't close all the way and the gap they left between the wall and the door allowed a shaft of light to penetrate the darkened kitchen. It illuminated an empty beer bottle that had been left on the counter which now cast an amber glow over the sink's faucet. If I were quick, I could probably sneak in there, open the fridge really slowly so it wouldn't make any noise, grab two bottles of beer, and dash back upstairs before Mr. Pierce even knew I was there.

I had taken off my shoes earlier. My socked feet were silent as I inched across the carpet onto the tiled floor of the kitchen. My heart hammered in my chest, every nerve was on end, and my hair felt puffed in fear all along my arms and the back of my neck. If I were caught ...

No, I told myself. I wouldn't be caught. In my mind's eye I could see myself getting the beers. I crept closer, watched my hand reaching for the refrigerator door, felt cool metal as my fingers closed around the handle. I wouldn't get caught. I wouldn't ...

From the dining room came that sound again, half cough, half clearing the throat. With a voice that seemed steeped in gravel, Mr. Pierce spoke. "So you owe me what, three hundred?"

My hand froze on the handle. Oh fuck. He wasn't alone.

I heard another sound, something sexy, a mingle between a laugh and a moan. "Three fifty. Don't round it down just because you're hard for me."

The words drew me closer. They belonged to RC, Mr. Pierce's friend who had talked with me earlier. Without conscious thought, I relaxed my grip on the handle of the fridge and turned toward the partially shut louver door. "Hard for me?" Is that what he had said?

Oh, Jesus.

I expected an angry shout, a denial, something fast and quick that sent this RC fellow packing. Instead, I was surprised to hear the hint of a smile in Mr. Pierce's voice when he answered, "I was cutting you some slack. I know you ain't got the cash."

With a throaty chuckle, RC replied, "I know it's not cash you want from me."

I couldn't help it -- my feet moved forward on their own, heading for the louver door. I stopped at the counter and tried to peer around the gap where the door and jamb didn't quite meet but all I saw was blank wall. Were they talking about what I thought they were talking about? What I hoped they were talking about?

Hottest Heat Wave

GENRE: Contemporary
LENGTH: 103,295 words

BLURB: JMS Books brought you hot tales of summer love in their popular Heat Wave series in the form of first crushes, fleeting affairs, and longtime romances that bubbled over into hot flashes with the soaring heat. In the Hottest Heat Wave anthology, which combines the six best-selling titles in the series, gay men are driven to distraction by the heat and each other, seeking solace anyway they can.

With stories by Drew Hunt, J.D. Walker, J.M. Snyder, Jeff Adams, Terry O'Reilly, and Michael P. Thomas, this sizzling anthology of M/M romance and erotic romance will have your temperature through the roof all summer long!

Contains my story, Heat Wave: Richmond. Danny is finally getting a place all his own, but a heat wave hits when he moves in, and the apartment’s A/C isn’t working right. Sexy new neighbor Kyle invites Danny to stay in his apartment in air conditioned bliss. Danny thinks Kyle might be interested in him, but so far Kyle seems to be moving pretty slow. Will things ever heat up between them? Or is Danny going to end up getting burned?


From Heat Wave: Richmond:

A sporty little red car zooms into the lot at breakneck speed and skids to a stop next to mine, half in two spots. I glance over at the driver, a young woman my own age who still has that fresh out of college look going on -- tousled hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, sunglasses obscuring half her face, a crop top paired with sweats that hug her round ass, and flip-flops that smack the pavement with the same sound she makes cracking her gum. I stare at her as she exits the car, trying to catch her eye, but she studiously ignores me and disappears around the back instead. I hear her pop the trunk, hear the rustle of grocery bags, and think, My first neighbor. I should probably introduce myself.

When I get out of my car, too, she still ignores me, so I lean in and grab the folder full of paperwork off the passenger seat just for something to do. By the time I’m standing up, the sunglasses are pushed on top of her head and her hands are full of grocery bags.

Now she looks at me. I flash her a winning smile and say, “Hey. I’m Danny.”

Her response is anything but cordial. With an exasperated sigh, she rolls her eyes and starts to walk away. Then she notices where I’m parked and stops. “Oh, wait,” she says, as if she’s just remembered how to play nice. “Are you moving in?”

“Upstairs,” I tell her, nodding. “Apartment G? So I guess that makes us neighbors, or something?”

Shifting all the bags to one hand, she sticks out the other. “Sorry, I thought you were hitting on me. I’m Nadia. We live under you in A.”

I give her hand a good shake and follow her gaze to the terrace below mine. It’s double the size of my balcony, with two screen doors instead of the one I have. “We?” I caught that. As she starts to redistribute the bags again, I ask, “Do you need any help?”

“Can you get the water from the trunk?” She nods at her car but doesn’t answer my other question.

We. I imagine an apartment full of sorority sisters, slumming it like Nadia here or camped out by the pool I haven’t seen yet, maybe sunning themselves on the terrace over the weekend. The downstairs apartment can’t be that much larger than mine, but they probably sleep two girls to a room, so I’ll hear squeals and giggles drifting up through the floorboards at all hours of the day and night, like a perpetual slumber party, or something. They’ll run up to knock on my door, ask me to open pickle jars and come kill spiders in their bathtubs, or hang pictures on their walls. It’ll be Rob’s girlfriend Lara multiplied to the nth degree.

I’m already wondering if I can’t maybe ask about any other single apartments in the complex that might be available when Nadia hoists the grocery bags over the terrace railing and hollers, “Kyle! Get out here and help, you lazy ass.”

So, no suite full of sorority sisters but the usual boyfriend/girlfriend playing house scenario. Which lets me off the hook, then, since anything she’d need a guy to do, she already has one to do it for her. It really is Lara all over again.

As I duck down into the trunk to retrieve the case of bottled water, I hear a screen door open and shut. Someone yawns, a loud, leonine roar, then a man’s sleepy voice gripes, “You woke me up.”

“You sleep too much,” Nadia complains. “Here, take these.”

I heft the case of water out of the trunk and step around the side of the car. With my elbow, I try to close the trunk but can’t. I get it down halfway, then have to turn my back to it and catch it with my hip. In the end, I’m practically sitting on it before it clicks shut.

Her boyfriend sees me before I see him, because I hear him ask, “Who’s that?”

“Danny,” she says. “He’s moving in upstairs. Danny, this is Kyle.”

When I turn back around, he’s standing on the other side of the railing, on the terrace itself, dressed in a too tight heather gray T-shirt and a pair of baggy Bermuda shorts. His short-cropped hair is mussed from sleep and he blinks owlishly at me, as if he’s still waking up. With his tanned skin and blond locks, he’s about as all-American as you can get, and so damn sexy, it hurts. Physically; I feel lust grip me somewhere below my balls and squeeze hard, threatening to never let go.

Damn, he’s one fine mother.

Eyes as gray and faded as his shirt, slightly too big for his face, shielded by lashes a little too long to belong to a guy. Strong, straight nose. Wide mouth and thin lips that slide easily into a welcoming grin. Teeth so white and perfect, he could do toothpaste commercials. The faintest blond fuzz on the corners of his chin, as if he forgot to shave this morning, curling up along his jaw to meet the darker hair in front of his ears. It’s cut close at the sides and back but kept long on top so it sort of flops over his forehead. I bet he spikes it up sometimes, though. He looks like the type.

You’re staring, I warn myself. I know I am, and worse, I know Nadia knows it, because there’s the slightest little grin toying at the corners of her mouth, a smirk that says, Look all you want, but you know he’s mine, right?

Yeah, yeah, bitch. Rub it in.

Tattooed Love Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 45,881 words | 156 pages

BLURB: There's something sexy about a tattooed man. In these five stories by multi-published, best-selling author J.M. Snyder, gay men revel in the erotic beauty of getting inked. Contains the stories:

Fillin' Chet: When tattoo artist Scott texts his hot new boy-toy Chet and asks him to stop by the tattoo parlor after hours, Chet assumes it's just to hook up. But Scott's just as interested in filling in the tattoo on Chet's back as he is in filling Chet.

Inked in Blood: Tom stops at Tattoo 804 just as it's about to close. Rist, an artist with a fetish for vampires, agrees to ink Tom after hours. What begins as a simple procedure turns erotic when Rist notices how hard Tom is for him. They give into their primal desires right in the tattoo chair, but things take an unusual turn and Tom wonders if Rist is just into a little blood play ... or if he isn't one of the undead.

Matching Tats: Vic Braunson’s latest tattoo makes his lover, Matt diLorenzo, decide that he might want to get inked, too. But Matt's more than a little skittish when it comes to needles, and watching the tattoo artist at work is frightening. With the powers love gives him, however, Vic finds a way to help Matt overcome his fears ...

Mojo's Mojo: Tattoo artist Wray has it bad for his best friend Mojo, who is straight. When Mojo asks Wray to give him a a new tattoo in a very private place, will he be able to put aside his growing lust and perform professionally? Or does Mojo have an ulterior motive for dropping his pants?

The Tattooed Heart: Chris is a tattoo artist who coerces Lee to stop by after hours for free tattoos. Lee’s body is a shrine to Chris’s artwork. Every tattoo is a custom creation by Chris, whom Lee has loved for years. What will it take for Chris to realize the lover he’s looking for has been sitting in his tattoo chair all along?


From Inked in Blood:

He fiddled with the tattoo guns and glanced over at me, hands on my hips, eyes wide as I took it all in. Again his gaze dropped to my waist, and this time I didn’t have a shirt to pull down over my erection. With a nod at the chair, he told me, “Sit. I can re-do the ink on your arm if you want.”

I had to climb up into the chair, using foot rests a good twelve inches off the ground. As I settled in, I took a critical look at my college tattoo and grimaced. The once bright blue had faded to a sickly hue, the yellow almost the same tone as my skin. Once it had been my school’s logo, a golden lion’s head mascot circled with my college colors and the name of the school underneath. Now, if I squinted right, I could just make it out. But it was a fairly large design -- much bigger than the inch and a half Rist had shown me earlier -- and I wasn’t up for spending more on tonight’s adventure. “What’ll that cost?”

Rist dropped onto the stool and wheeled up beside my chair. He fiddled with a control somewhere out of sight and I dropped down a little, until we were eye-level. For a moment he set his elbow on the arm rest as his fingers played across the skin on my shoulder, feeling the outline of the tattoo. His touch was cool, sending a shiver down my spine that jolted my already stiff dick. I shifted in the chair uncomfortably, pulling at the front of my jeans just a little, hoping I played it off without him noticing. This close, how could he not?

Then his hand trailed down, fingertips like ice as they played over the hairs on my forearm. Goosebumps rose in his wake. I watched his movements, slow, deliberate, my gaze glued to his tattooed hand. At my wrist, he rubbed a tender spot just above my thumb and I turned my hand over, laying it open for his. When I looked up, I found him staring at my face with something akin to desire. My voice croaked when I tried to speak and I had to clear my throat to be heard over the music. “How much?”

“Tommy.” The way he said my name sounded like a purr, low and soft. I didn’t hear it so much as feel it echo through me, the same way I felt the beat of the music reverberate through my spine. “We’re both adults here. Alone. I’m sure we can come to some kind of mutual agreement.”

Still thinking money, I started, “I don’t want to spend too much ...”

His hand closed over mine, his palm cool against my heated fingers. With a gentle squeeze he released me and moved lower -- down my leg, along my thigh now, angling toward my crotch. A second before his fingers brushed over my sheathed cock, I realized what he was suggesting. He confirmed it when he said, “I was sort of thinking something else.”

For a long moment, I was too stunned to speak. My dick throbbed in his grip, eager to take him up on his offer. I’d been propositioned before -- hell, many times, and probably would be again before the week was out. But I hadn’t seen this one coming. Could I possibly get a free tattoo out of it?

Shit, for a blowjob, or something more? I’d fucked guys for less.

Rist must have thought I was unsure because he tugged on my zipper a little, pressing it into my dick as he did so. “Come on, man,” he cajoled. “Either you’re hard for me or you’ve got some sort of medical condition that gives you elephant balls. This place is dead. So we can take care of each other and you get a tattoo for your trouble, what do you say?”

I laughed. “What do you get from it?”

His smile turned enigmatic. “I get off. What more can I ask for? I’m a little ...”

He said something then that I didn’t quite catch. Horny, I thought, but the music seemed to swell and drown him out, or maybe he just dropped his voice a little. I watched the shape his lips made around those pointed teeth of his and what might have been horny could just as easily have been hungry, as well. Either way, the message was clear. He wanted me as much as I wanted him.

I’d be a fool to turn him down.

Birth of a Hero Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Superhero
LENGTH: 39,263 words

BLURB: Vic Braunson is a city bus driver who falls in love with Matt diLorenzo, a swimmer he meets at the gym. When they finally hook up, there's no denying the energy between them.

Something about Matt brings out the best in Vic -- literally. He gives Vic superhuman powers. Can they learn to live with these abilities without losing each other?

This box set is the perfect introduction to the super sexy, super powered world of Vic and Matt! Discover how Vic gets his superhuman abilities, and feel the love between these two men grow as they fall for each other for the first time! Contains the stories:

The Powers of Love: The first Vic and Matt story, where it all begins. With his shaved head, piercings, and tattoos, the muscular Vic Braunson isn’t one who falls hopelessly in love at first sight. But when he meets swim instructor Matt diLorenzo at the gym, sparks fly. After having sex with his new boyfriend , Vic Braunson discovers he suddenly has superhuman powers. WTF?

Matching Tats: Vic Braunson’s latest tattoo makes his lover, Matt diLorenzo, decide that he might want to get inked, too. But Matt's more than a little skittish when it comes to needles, and watching the tattoo artist at work is frightening. With the powers love gives him, however, Vic finds a way to help Matt overcome his fears.

Leatherman and Sexy Boy: It's Vic's birthday, and apparently his lover Matt diLorenzo stumbled upon Vic's old supply of fetish gear when cleaning. Matt knows slipping into the leather and chains will be a sexy surprise for his lover when Vic gets home from work.

Parking Lot Hero: It's the weekend of the Super Bowl. Vic is looking forward to a quiet Saturday with his lover, Matt. But when a trio of ruffians terrorize their landlady in the parking lot of the local grocery story, Vic finds the superhero in him called to action.

Foot Fetish: It's Valentine's Day, and Matt has a special evening in mind for Vic to accommodate his lover's foot fetish.

Take It Outside: It's close to midnight, New Year's Eve, and Matt is tired of watching Vic mingle at Roxie's party. After several beers, Matt wants a piece of his lover, and he wants it now. And we all know Matt gets what he wants.

Turn the Tables: Vic shares a very special relationship with his long-time lover, Matt. Like any couple, they have fallen into a set routine and each knows where he stands with the other. But turning the tables now and then is a good way to spice things up again. Especially in the bedroom.


From Matching Tats:

Vic opened his hands and held out a small booklet of temporary tattoos. Matt stared at them, confused. "Why'd you get these?" he asked, taking the booklet from Vic. He flipped through it -- the tattoos were black, and all of the same Chinese character. Some were large, the size of his palm; some were tiny little rows of the same symbol, written over and over again. Matt turned the booklet over and saw the design printed on the cover, the word LOVE written beneath it. He laughed. "How sweet. This doesn't change my mind, though. I still want that damn heart."

"This is just for fun," Vic told him. Taking the booklet, he tore out the first page, then handed the rest to Matt. "There's some instructions on the back. Read them to me. Where do you want this one?"

Laying back against the pillows, Matt pulled down the bed sheets to expose his hip. "Here?" he asked, pointing to a flat spot low on his belly. His stomach fluttered when Vic touched it. "How does it stick to the skin?"

"Read the directions," Vic said again.

Matt frowned at the booklet, trying to read the fine print typed on the back cover. "Apply to clean, damp skin --"

A warm tongue licked the spot Matt chose. The sensation, so sudden and unexpected, ignited his blood and tented the sheet covering his crotch. If that was how they were going to play, Matt could think of a dozen sexy places to put that tattoo. With a shaky laugh, he pulled the sheets over an inch and pointed again. "Maybe here instead."

Vic's tongue darted out to lick that place too. Dropping the book of temporary tattoos, Matt gripped his hard cock through the sheets and gasped. As he watched, Vic nosed the sheet aside, his tongue licking beneath the fabric to wet down kinked curls. He found the root of Matt's shaft, licked beneath it to taste his fuzzy nuts, then leaned in to close his mouth around the base of Matt's erection. "God," Matt sighed.

Vic's breath tickled Matt's saliva slicked skin. "Well?" he asked. "What next?"

Matt fumbled for the booklet. "Um ..." The words swam before him, unreadable. His nerves buzzed, his mind a blur -- Vic's body was a familiar weight against his legs, and Matt couldn't concentrate on the fine print with his lover's tongue lapping his hip like a grooming cat. He wanted that tongue beneath the sheet again, around his dick. Could they put the tattoo there?

One on One in the Studio

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Interracial, Romance
LENGTH: 11,846 words

BLURB: Former teen actor Joey Angel is all grown up, and now he's trying to make a name for himself as a singer. His pop album was a big hit with female fans, but he wants street cred, and to get it, his agent books a session at Killa Whatz Studios with DJ Key.

DJ Key, a.k.a. Key Jay, a.k.a. Kian Jordan, is only one of the biggest names in hip hop. Joey's been a fan of Key's forever, and is thrilled -- and a little intimidated -- to be asked to collaborate on a new song with the myth, the man, the legend. Things get off to a rocky start when Joey discovers he isn't the only guest in the studio. The two other rappers aren't pleased to find a white kid crashing their air time, either.

Key manages to smooth things over, but Joey finds it hard to concentrate on the song after such a bumpy start. When Key gets him alone for a little one on one in the studio, can he help Joey relax enough to make their collaboration a success?


When they’re finally alone, Key turns back to him, that grin slipping a notch or two. Joey can’t quite meet his steady gaze. In a low voice, Key purrs, “So what’s the sitch here, Joe?”

Joey shrugs. He can’t say he’s hot for the guy; he can’t say his own libido’s distracting him. Jesus, he knows he would be in deep shit if that got out to the paparazzi. There are enough internet haters and trolls (and some fans, he can’t deny it) who already question his sexuality, but if word went around he was hard for DJ Key? Hell, no. How to destroy a budding music career in one fell swoop. He can almost see the headlines now.

Key isn’t making things any easier, either, leaning in close, keeping that damned hand of his on Joey’s thigh. His fingers rest on the inseam of Joey’s jeans, mere inches from Joey’s crotch. Suddenly Joey’s heart seems to drop down into his belly, and he feels the beat of it hammering in his cock.

The sitch is I want you. He stares at Key’s hand so he won’t have to look into those golden eyes. If he did, he’d say something stupid, he knows it. He’d fall into their clear depths, forget who he is and why he’s here, give himself over to this man completely, and he can’t do that. He’s a professional. He can’t get distracted ...

I want you in every way one man can another. I’ve wanted you for years, with nothing more than a fanboy crush, but now we’re finally in the same room at the same time and it only makes me want you all the more. I can’t concentrate with you beside me. I can’t focus, my mind goes blank, my throat dries up, my dick is about to explode. I want you, I do, that’s the sitch.

And there’s no way on earth I’m going to tell you, even if no one else is around to hear me say it out loud.

Key leans forward into Joey’s personal space, the heavy scent of his cologne swirling in after him a moment later. “I know what’s happening here,” he murmurs, his voice so low, Joey has to lean in a little, too, just to hear it.

“What?” Joey whispers.

The hand on his thigh finally makes its move, sliding all the way up his leg and into the fold of his hip. Key’s fingers press down on Joey’s sheathed dick, rubbing the outline through his shirt and jeans. His smile widens, his teeth flash. Giving Joey’s cock a faint squeeze, he says, “We both know what this all about, don’t we?”

“I ...”

Key leans in closer still and cuts Joey off with a kiss. It’s unexpected and quick -- a press of lips, a hint of tongue, nothing more -- and before Joey knows what’s happening, it’s over.

“You feel it, too. Don’t front wit’ me.” Key’s breath is soft against Joey’s cheek. He steals another kiss, this one a bit firmer, with more tongue. “Well, I got rid of the others so it’s finally down to just you and me. So let’s do something about this before the others come back.”

So In Love Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Romance
LENGTH: 230 pages

BLURB: Eight short contemporary stories celebrating gay love in its many forms. From falling in love for the first time to mending a broken relationship to spending a lifetime shared, each of the stories in this collection offer a glimpse into the lives of gay men who live and love together.

Contains the stories:

Afflicted: It's hard to understand why some people feel the need to hurt themselves, especially when they seem to have everything they need or want out of life. So how do you help someone bent on a path of self-destruction? And what can you possibly do when it's someone you love?

Caught Off Base: Ange Echevarria takes an instant liking to the young hitchhiker he picks up who reminds him of an old friend. Unfortunately, so does his friend, Lamar. Why can’t Ange keep this one for himself?

Henry and Jim: These two men have spent a life in love, from the very first date arranged by Henry’s sister, through the rocky times they worked to make ends meet, and into their twilight years.

His Song: Dane is destined for greatness, his boyfriend Krish just knows it, but first he needs to break into the local music scene. When local musician Randy Blake asks Dane to stop by for a private jam session, Dane is ecstatic. But it seems Blake has something other than music on his mind. Krish doesn't trust Blake, but a more pressing question, though, is can he trust Dane?

Love in the Library: Johnny's job at the campus library isn't as glamorous as it sounds. In fact, when the wheels of the returns cart get stuck in the gap between the floor and the elevator, he's ready to just quit right there. But a stranger's kindness leads to chance encounter that improves Johnny's whole semester.

Maybe: Josh blames himself for the strained relationship he has with his ex-lover, DeMar. Just when he thinks they’re through, DeMar shows up and wants a second chance, but Josh isn’t so sure DeMar’s the one to blame for their break-up. Can they somehow find what it was they had together in the beginning before they lose it all?

Skaterboy: CJ is a skateboarder who can’t hold a job now that he's officially “grown up.” He lives with his lover, Richard, who wears a suit and tie to the office every day. Together they make an unlikely pair.

This Christmas: A new take on a familiar holiday classic. Ned Matthews is a college student haunted by his last boyfriend’s infidelity. Ned would rather wallow in self-pity than spend Christmas with Bobby, even though they’re the only two students on campus for the holiday. Can Bobby show Ned the holiday is better with someone to love?


From His Song:

Outside it's crisp and chilly, a sharp contrast to the warm stuffiness back in the coffeehouse. Dane leads the way to Krish's pickup, walking slow to keep within the span of Krish's arm. With every other step, his hip bumps Krish's, and Krish thinks again of the couch in their living room and laying down on his stomach with Dane behind him, easing into him, crying out in the cushions when he comes. Since there aren't many people outside, he pulls Dane back against him and kisses his lover's temple. Dane holds up a small business card, as if Krish can read it in the dark, and says, "He told me to give him a call, can you believe it? Says he wants to hear my sound."

There's that jealousy again, searing down the center of his chest like heartburn. With a forced laugh, Krish tells him, "That girl at the counter wanted you to call her, too."

Dane frowns at him, confused. "Why?" he asks.

They reach Krish's truck. Pulling his keys from his pocket, Krish unlocks the passenger side door, holds it open for his lover. "Same reason, I suspect," he grumbles. He hadn't thought his opinion of Randy Blake could possibly get any lower than it already was, but he was wrong.

But Dane's still frowning. "She wants to hear me play?" he asks.

Krish sighs. "She wanted to hook up with you!" he cries, exasperated. Sometimes he wonders if Dane's really as clueless as he seems -- he can't get it through his head that he's a cute boy, great hair, pretty face, nice body if you like them on the thin side, which Krish does. "Jesus, Dane," Krish mutters. "Just get in already, will you?" When Dane doesn't move, he runs a hand across his face and tells himself it's not Dane's fault, he's not angry at him. "I just want to go home, okay? Please?"

Grudgingly, Dane climbs into the passenger seat. "He's a musician, Krish --" he starts, and then Krish slams the door shut on the rest of the sentence. Doesn't mean he's not human, he thinks, walking around the back of the truck to the driver's side. Doesn't mean he doesn't want to get with you. He's a musician, Dane, not a priest. As he climbs behind the wheel, Dane tells him, "It's not like that, babe. I said I played a little and he wanted to hear some of my songs, that's it. He said we can get together for a jam session, his words."

Starting the engine, Krish pops the truck into reverse and steps on the gas. "Fine," he says. He hates that he thinks it's something more. It's not that he doesn't trust Dane -- it's everyone else he has his doubts about.

But Dane isn't one to let things like this go. "It's not what you're thinking," he says, snapping his seat belt into place. Then he rubs Krish's thigh, a soft touch through the heavy denim jeans he wears. "He just wants to hear me play, that's all."

Krish doesn't respond. You don't play for anyone but me, he thinks, but he's not going to say that. He knows Dane wants to play onstage one day, he knows the boy's terrified of crowds but it's his dream and he has to start somewhere, doesn't he? Not with Randy Blake. Anyone else but him. It wouldn't bother him so much if Dane's eyes didn't gloss over every time he mentioned the musician. He's not even sure if Dane is aware he does that.

Giving Krish's knee a playful squeeze, Dane says again, "It's not like that --"

"Fine," Krish tells him. He doesn't want to talk about it anymore, but he's angry now, that's evident when he peals out of the parking lot, tires squealing down the road.

Dane sighs. "He's old enough to be my father," he starts.

Krish forces a thin laugh. "That never stopped anybody," he mutters.

"It stops me." Dane looks at him but Krish can't meet his gaze, he stares out the windshield at the empty streets and wishes they had stayed home tonight. In front of the TV, cuddling together on the couch -- no talk of Blake, no sudden phone number in his lover's back pocket. Ahead of them, a street light flickers from green to yellow, and Krish considers stepping on the gas, shooting through the intersection, just to put as much distance between them and the Dharma and Randy Blake as he possibly can.

But before they reach the light it turns red, and Krish eases the truck to a stop. "Krish," Dane says softly.

Krish looks at the hand on his knee, then folds his fingers into Dane's palm. Dane's pale fingers close around his, strong and gentle, and in the darkness, Krish's dark skin is the same gray shade as Dane's. "Look at me?" Dane asks. It's almost a plea.

How can Krish hope to resist? When he looks up, he sees those dark eyes looking back, framed by a fall of hair. Dane touches his face, smoothes his fingers into Krish's hair, leans closer and presses his mouth to Krish's, his lips warm and damp, his tongue eager as it licks into him. He gives into the kiss, feels his body relax, leans into his lover and lets him make things right again with his mouth, his tongue, his hand on the back of his neck. "I love you," Dane whispers, his breath hot against Krish's chin.

"I'm sorry," Krish begins. Now he feels horrible, it's just a damn number, not a date, not a freaking marriage proposal. "Dane --"

Dane kisses his apology away. "Shh," he sighs.

The Positions of Love Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Superhero
LENGTH: 230 pages

BLURB: When Matt diLorenzo gives his lover, Vic Braunson, a copy of the Kama Sutra for Gay Men as a Christmas gift, they find it doubles as a handy reference guide to Vic's super powers. All they have to do is test out the positions to see which one gives him what ability ...

Contains the stories:

The Positions of Love: When Vic’s boss asks him to play Santa at the company Christmas party, the enticement of more time off sweetens the deal. It might be a wonderful holiday season after all ... if he can only find the perfect present for his lover.

Two Pillars Position: Some mornings, Vic stops by the gym to bench-press a few thousand pounds, show off for his fellow bodybuilders, and spend some time with his lover before he has to start his day. A quickie in the pool showers seems like a good way to get the blood pumping ...

Clasping Position: Though Vic had difficulty finding a suitable gift for his lover for Christmas, Matt has the perfect evening planned for Valentine's. He's made reservations at an expensive steakhouse for the two of them, and hopes the intimate dinner is a prelude to a night of love. But things get a little frisky before they leave for the restaurant.

Hammock Position: Spring is in the air, and Matt convinces Vic to join him for a little rest and relaxation on the sunny banks of the James River. What's more enticing than sex on the rocks by the river's rapids?

Two Dogs Position: Doggy style brings out the animal in Vic, literally. He finds out the hard way, when Matt invites friends over for a party. Vic's heightened senses reel from the sights and sounds, and he locks himself away in the bathroom just to get his latest superpower under control. But what he hears in the apartment above puts the party on hold.

Cowboy Position: Matt diLorenzo has a secret fetish -- he loves to watch a man eat. When Vic finds out, he suggests they share a quiet, indoor picnic. Something sinfully sexy, for just the two of them. On the menu? Whipped cream, fresh strawberries, and chocolate syrup drizzled over Matt's bare skin for Vic to lick off.

Kneeling Butterfly Position: It's a rainy Saturday and Matt wants to spend it at the mall. And what Matt wants, he gets. There's only one little problem. He loves shopping; Vic does not. Still, the promise of sex in the dressing room sparks Vic's interest.

Pillar and the Ivy Position: One of Matt’s favorite sexual positions, but he doubts his ability to support Vic’s weight as they make love standing up. He’s not the one with super strength, after all. Vic thinks maybe they could pull it off ... in the gym’s swimming pool.

Tripod Position: It's Vic's birthday, and Matt wants to do something special. When he discovers his lover has a leather fetish and used to be into clubbing, Matt thinks it'd be fun to go out as a couple to celebrate his special night. But while Matt looks sexy in boyshorts, Vic isn't the only one watching.

Lotus Position: When Vic has a few days off from work, the two visit Wildwood, New Jersey, a tourist town Matt used to frequent as a child. Though Vic isn't keen on crowds and would prefer to spend his downtime at home, Matt entices him with the offer of sex on the beach ... and he doesn't mean the drink, either.

The Arc Position: It’s Halloween, and Roxie is having a party. Matt wants to dress as policemen but Vic’s latest power creates a costume all his own.

Sideways Position: For Thanksgiving, Matt takes Vic home to meet his parents. The diLorenzos aren’t quite sure what to make of their son’s lover. Matt’s Nonna tends to lapse into her native tongue without realizing it. Imagine everyone’s surprise when Vic answers her in flawless Italian.


From The Positions of Love Book 1: The Positions of Love:

This would be their first Christmas together. Last year this time they had been friends, Matt hesitant to trust Vic more and Vic biding his time until Matt let him in. Even then, they had been moving toward a deeper relationship, one they didn't consummate until after midnight on New Year's Day. Three months later, the day after his thirty-fifth birthday, Matt announced he was moving into Vic's apartment. They had been inseparable since.

Though he's likely to leave me if I fuck up Christmas. The thought turned Vic's stomach, and he craned his neck, trying to look beyond the cars ahead of him to see what the problem was. In the left hand lane, traffic moved at a sluggish pace, but the cars in front of Vic didn't even budge. If only I were over there ...

A nasty jolt shook him. For a second, Vic thought maybe he'd been rear-ended -- his whole body surged forward as if jerked ahead. As the windshield rushed at him, he threw his hands in front of his face, shielding it. Motherfucker --

But he never hit the glass.

And suddenly someone beside him yelled, "Shit!"

Lowering his arms, Vic glanced around. He no longer sat in his own car-he was in the passenger seat of someone else's. The driver next to him was an older fellow, Indian, with dark skin and wide, staring eyes that eclipsed his face. "What are you doing here?" he yelled. "Where did you come from?"

Good questions. Vic turned to look out the window and saw his car, now empty, several vehicles back in the right lane. How the hell did he wind up here? And how was he supposed to get back without making a scene? "Hey!" the driver yelled beside him. "I'm talking to you."

"Then shut up," Vic growled, trying to think. It had to be another one of Matt's strange gifts. Why buy me something for Christmas? he thought wryly. Look what all you've given me so far. Super strength, telepathy, and now this. Vic had wished he could be in the left lane and poof! Suddenly he was, albeit in someone else's car. So how did he get back to his own? Maybe if he just thought about it ...

That jolt came again, this time from the front, as if he'd been hit by a deploying airbag. Vic closed his eyes, swallowed the bile that rose in the back of his throat, and hoped he stopped in the right car. What exactly was this power called? The ability to think of a place and appear there instantly. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't start reading comic books again to learn more.

As the nausea passed, Vic opened one eye, cautious. He was in the right car, sitting in his own driver seat. With trembling hands, he put the car into gear, then maneuvered out of traffic onto the shoulder of the road. Some idiot drove up behind him, perhaps thinking he'd go around everyone else, but Vic ignored the horn that honked at him. Cutting off the engine, he flicked on his hazards and took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself.

Okay. So he could now ... what? Teleport?

Beautiful Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 91,299 words

BLURB: Step into the glittery and glamorous world of celebrities who seek real love among the stars. This box set contains two of gay erotic romance author J.M. Snyder's best-selling novellas, plus three short stories featuring the same characters.

Contains the stories:

Beautiful Liar: Johnny Thomas hopes to jump start his acting career by hiring his former manager Lou, who has heard rumors that might prevent him from landing those coveted leading roles. Johnny swears he’ll play it straight ... until he meets Brett, who turns his life -- and his heart -- upside down. When photographs surface that were taken in confidence, Johnny must choose between his career and love.

More Lies: Actor Johnny Thomas has landed a coveted role in the upcoming Roxy Greene movie. The catch? Roxy wants the media to think they're dating. The problem? Johnny's gay. Will his sexuality cost him the role? Or does Roxy have a secret of her own?

Beautiful Disaster: Corey and Ian are members of the pop duo 2ICE. When Corey discovers he’s in love with Ian -- and, better yet, that Ian feels the same -- his promiscuous past makes it hard for his band-mate to admit his feelings. Can they move beyond the pain to embrace a love they both desperately want?

Render: Before Corey Evans and Ian Coltraine became lovers, they were simply band-mates on tour. When an accident onstage leaves Corey hurt and vulnerable, Ian is there to pick up the pieces. This flash story is a slice of life look at the beginnings of something more than mere friendship between the two.

Encore: Pop superstar Corey Evans realizes how hollow he feels until he discovers he's in love with his best friend and band-mate, Ian Coltraine. They've managed to hide their relationship from the press and their fans, but what happens when their manager finds out?


From Beautiful Disaster:

Corey pulled back the comforter, exposing pristine white sheets that still looked ironed. Ian hadn't slept in the bed at all. As Corey eased between the covers, the sheets cool on his skin, he frowned and tried to forget about the girl in his own bed down the hall. What the fuck was he going to do about that in the morning?

He didn't know.

Leaning back against the pillow, he pulled the comforter up to his armpits and looked over at Ian, who sat in the chair watching him. Watching him. So he still existed. He was still real, still alive, still here. "The bed's big enough for two," he murmured.

"I'm fine," Ian replied, but suddenly he didn't look fine to Corey. He looked sad and old and alone, and not fine in the least.

With a sigh, Corey rolled his eyes and let a slight whine creep into his voice. "Ian. There's plenty of room." To emphasize his point, he patted the empty space beside him. When Ian didn't reply, Corey said, "This is your bed. I'll sleep on the floor if I have to. Is that what you want? It doesn't matter to me. Just as long as I don't have to go back --"

"Fine." Ian hoisted himself out of the chair and stumbled to the bed. Sitting on the edge farthest from Corey, he kicked off his shoes and glared at the floor. "You happy now? You got what you wanted, Corey. You fucking happy?"

"Jeez." Corey didn't say another word as Ian began to undress, slipping out of his shirt and tugging down his pants until he stood in just his boxers and undershirt. As he reached across the bed to cut off the lamp, his shadow fell over Corey, blocking the light from his eyes. Then the room plunged into darkness, and the bed shook as Ian climbed beneath the covers.

Corey lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, blinking to assure himself his eyes were still open. He waited until Ian settled into a comfortable position before he turned toward his friend, who was rolled on his side away from him. All Corey could see was the slump of Ian's shoulder outlined against the dim glow of the curtains. "Ian?"

"What?" His voice was muffled, his mouth probably buried in the pillow.

Clearing his throat, Corey asked, "Are you mad at me?"

For a moment he didn't think Ian would answer. Then Ian sighed. "No."

Corey released a shaky breath he hadn't known he was holding. "Good."

Now that the lights were out and Ian was just a shadow in the darkness, Corey's mind couldn't stop turning, and he didn't want the silence that surrounded them to get inside. He wanted to hear Ian's deep voice, soft and comforting and slurred, wrap around him and hold him close. He wanted to hear Ian's steady breath drown out the tick of the alarm clock and the sounds of the city beyond the drawn curtain. "Ian?" he asked again.

"What?" Ian replied, gentler this time.

"Talk to me." Talk to me and make me real. Make this real, so I'll be able to look back on it when I'm alone and scared again and know for a few moments at least I existed to someone as just Corey and not anything else. Please, Ian. Please give me that much.

Ian chuckled. "You wanted me to get into bed so we could sleep. Now you want me to talk to you? What do you want me to say?"

"Anything." When Ian didn't answer, Corey prompted, "What were you doing in the lounge?"

"Drinking," Ian said.

Corey grinned. "I know that. What were you thinking about?"

"You," came the soft reply.

"Really?" Corey frowned at Ian's back. "Me? Why?"

Ian sighed. "I don't feel like talking right now, Corey, okay? I just don't."

Remy and Lane Complete Series Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Romance
LENGTH: 107,076 words

BLURB: Both books in the Remy and Lane series for one low price! Contains the stories:

Just the Three of Us: Remy McIntosh Remy is looking forward to a holiday vacation at a secluded cabin with his lover, Lane Anders. He's planned the perfect getaway for just the two of them. But when his ex-wife changes her Christmas plans at the last minute, he has to bring along his 8 year old son, Braeden, too. Braeden doesn't know Lane, or even that his father is gay. What will happen to the romantic holiday Remy planned for so long?

Hawaiian Wedding: Remy and Lane are back to plan their Christmas wedding! Because their state doesn’t allow same-sex marriage, they travel to Hawaii to plan the perfect wedding. But things go wrong from the start. Remy doesn’t know whether to laugh at his troubles or cry with frustration. Will they get to say “I do” on an island beach, or should they elope?


From Just the Three of Us:

From where he sat in the cushioned seat on the other side of Remy’s desk, Lane leaned his elbows on the arm rest and steepled his fingers under his chin. “You’re mad,” he said.

“I’m not mad,” Remy corrected. “I’m ... a little put out, that’s all.”

One of Lane’s signature smiles spread across his face. “Come on, what’s the big deal? You said it yourself, you wanted me to meet Braden one day.”

“One day, yes,” Remy emphasized. Opening his day planner for next year, he flipped to the page for May and pointed at a date that already had something written on it. “May tenth, one o’clock, I take Braden out for ice cream at Bruster’s and you stop by to say hi. I had it all planned out.”

“So move your plans up a little,” Lane countered. “Think about it. We’re going to a log cabin in the mountains. There’s a lake, and deer, and a huge fireplace for Santa to come down --”

“And no TV,” Remy pointed out. “No internet, no wi-fi, no nothing for a kid used to waking up and turning on cartoons while he checks his friends’ Facebook updates. He’s going to be bored shitless.”

Lane shook his head. “It’ll be fun. We might even get a little snow. It’ll be nice, relaxing --”

“You don’t know my son.”

Lane said, “Then tell me about him.”

Remy straightened the papers on his desk. He talked about Braden a lot, he knew, but somehow nothing he had ever told Lane really managed to capture the essence of the boy. “He’s ... I don’t know. Sensitive. Set in his ways. He doesn’t really like change.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Lane teased.

Remy shook his head. “No, really. It’ll probably make him mad that he isn’t going to be home with all his stuff. He’ll have his heart set on Christmas with his mother, and when he finds out he’ll have to stay with me, it’ll piss him off.”

“Like father, like son,” Lane said.

Remy stacked the papers he’d been reading into a neat pile and tucked them into his Inbox. “No, you aren’t listening to me. He --”

“He’s like you.” Lane reached across the desk and placed a hand on Remy’s wrist, stilling it. “Look at me.”

After a long moment, Remy did. What he saw in his lover’s eyes was a deeper understanding than he could’ve imagined existed. In that one instant, with Lane’s hand covering his, Remy thought simply, I love him. I do. The thought came unbidden, so raw and fresh, that he knew it was the truth.

“You’re upset, I know,” Lane said softly, “but you’re projecting your own feelings onto your son. This wasn’t your plan, and I’m sorry. But sometimes you have to give a little bit, Remy. Sometimes you have to roll with the punches.”

Remy sighed. “It’s going to be a disaster.”

“Don’t think like that,” Lane chastised. “Think of it as an adventure.”

Yeah, Remy thought. A disastrous one.

Whose Wedding Is It Anyway?

GENRE: Contemporary, Romance
LENGTH: 30,554 words

BLURB: Sequel to It’s All Relative

It’s been eleven years since Michael Knapp introduced his lover Dan Biggs and came out to his family over dinner. During that time, the two men have grown closer despite Dan’s military career, which has taken him into war zones overseas. Their relationship has survived each deployment, and with the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” their relationship is out in the open and stronger than ever.

Dan was in Afghanistan when the Supreme Court made same-sex marriage legal in all fifty states, but the moment he’s back from his year-long assignment, he pops the question. Michael can’t wait to share the news, though it spreads a bit too quickly on social media for his liking -- the moment he posts a picture of their rings, his sister tells their mother, who insists on helping plan the wedding.

Suddenly Michael finds the townhome he shares with Dan overrun with his family, who might mean well but who want to take over what should be his special day. He only just got engaged and they’re already talking about where to host the reception! Whose wedding is it anyway?


There’s a podium set off to one side of the altar; this is where the man’s headed. A few lesser ranking men trail behind him like a retinue of stoic-faced choir boys. When he stops at the microphone, they fall into place behind him like good little soldiers, backs stiff at attention, gazes locked somewhere high over our heads. I resist the urge to look up to see what it is they’re staring at. I already know; they just don’t want to see us crumble when we’re told our loved ones aren’t coming home tonight after all.

The man in charge taps the mic a few times. “Is this thing on?” he says, trying to be discreet about it, but of course it’s on already, and his voice booms through the chapel, which has grown quiet since he appeared. With a scowl, he glares out at us, then seems to remember his manners and tries to smile instead.

It doesn’t help.

If this was anywhere other than a US military base, someone in the back of the crowd would’ve shouted out something irreverent by now. “Where are they?” maybe, or, “Get on with it, will you?” While we may not be as disciplined as the people in our lives we’re here to welcome back from the warfront, we’re all too familiar with how the military operates, and we know catcalls won’t get us anywhere. We sit and wait, anxious, nervous, on edge, but quiet.

Damn. Where are they?

Another tap on the mic -- really? Does he have to do that? -- and the man clears his throat, a sound that echoes throughout the chapel. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says in a gravelly voice, “I want to thank you for your patience here tonight as we welcome back the brave men and women of the --”

That’s as much as I need to hear, as much as any of us can hear, before the chapel erupts in euphoric cheers. Suddenly I’m on my feet, arms pumping the air, shouting at the top of my lungs in a wordless, victorious cry. Beside me little Susie is shouting, “Daddy! Daddy!” Her mother’s face glistens with tears; she’s clapping and crying at the same time, and when she sees me, we share a smile that hurts my face, it’s so wide.

They’re here. They’re home.

If the man with the microphone has more he wants to say, he’ll have to wait to say it because there’s no way we’re going to calm down now. Someone starts rattling the backs of the pews, someone else begins stomping their feet, and soon the roof itself threatens to come down around us, we’re making so much noise. It’s amid this cacophony that a door at the back of the chapel opens and the soldiers of the 57th Quartermaster Corps stream in.

The flood of camouflage troops mingles amid the civilians, each one so much alike in their green fatigues and caps, but I crane my neck looking for Dan. Part of me thinks he should be near the front -- he’s a first shirt, after all -- but part of me thinks he’s the type to let his men go first, so he’d bring up the rear. It takes everything I have not to climb onto the pew like little Susie does just so I can see over everyone else. Already others are finding their loved ones and tender reunions are taking place all around me, people hugging and kissing, crying and laughing, and I’m here bobbing from side to side, looking ... still looking ...

Then somehow he appears beside me, as if just thinking about him conjured him up. “Michael,” he sighs, taking my hand in his.

A boxy cap covers his dark, buzzed hair. His handsome face is tanned and lined, more rugged than it was when I last saw it in person twelve months ago -- his cheeks look hollowed out, his eyes darker, his lips chapped. What might be the faintest hint of peachy hair fuzzes his chin and jaw. I reach out to brush my fingertips over it. “What’s this?” I ask. “I never saw this when we Skyped.”

He leans into my touch, turning into my hand to kiss my palm. “Like it? Don’t get too used to it. I’m shaving it off tomorrow.”

“Dan.” I want to hug him but don’t want to chance embarrassing him, not here in front of his men. “God, I missed you.”

Apparently he doesn’t have the same qualms I do. That’s part of the reason I love him so much; I worry about what other people think and Dan ... well, doesn’t. He loves me and doesn’t care who knows it. Without warning he pulls me to him in a desperate embrace and holds me close. I melt into his firm body, molding against him perfectly. This is what I’ve missed all these long, lonely months. This man, these arms, him. Into his ear, I whisper, “I love you.”

His hug tightens, if that’s possible. I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. He’s the only thing I need to survive.


Not According to Plan

GENRE: Contemporary, Romance
LENGTH: 14,418 words

BLURB: Jonathan Banks and Peter Giles have worked together for five years, business partners in a planning firm that bears both their names. From the moment Jonathan was hired, the attraction between the two men was instantaneous and mutual, but he was dating someone else at the time and turned down Peter’s advances.

Now Jonathan’s boyfriend is out of the picture, and he’d love nothing more than for Peter to ask him out again, but he knows his partner all too well. Peter doesn’t take rejection easily. He likes flirting with Jonathan, sure, but doesn’t want to take the chance of getting turned down a second time. He's satisfied with the way their friendship is, and fears anything more intimate might ruin what they already have.

But everything both men have planned and worked for together is threatened on a cold, wintry evening when Peter’s car won’t start and Jonathan has to give him a lift home. Can the two friends move past their own fears and trepidations, and begin to build a future together as partners outside the office?


Jonathan called out, "That you, Pete?"

He heard a chair scrape across the floor, a desk drawer open and shut, then hard-soled shoes on the thin carpet as Pete came over to stand in his open doorway. "Who the hell else would it be?" Pete snapped.

With a grimace, Jonathan asked, "Bite my head off, will you? All I did was ask a simple question. What's wrong?"

Pete sighed lustily, obviously perturbed. Without waiting for an invitation, he came into Jonathan's office and plopped down into one of the two chairs situated in front of Jonathan's desk. Crossing his ankle over his knee, he leaned back and glared at the ceiling as he steepled his fingers in front of him. "Fucking car won't start, that's what's wrong."

"Do you need a jump?" Jonathan knew shit all about cars, but he had a set of jumper cables in his trunk that were a free gift for opening his bank account back in the day; he'd selected them from all the other options because he thought they might come in handy someday. His reasoning? If he ever really did need them, hopefully the owner of the other car would know how to use them. "I have a set of cables. I'm parked near you in the deck."

But Pete shook his head. "I think it's the alternator. Damn piece of shit."

"I don't even know what that means," Jonathan admitted.

Pete gave him a strange look. "It means it's worthless and needs to be replaced."

"No, I --" Jonathan laughed. "Never mind. So you need what, a new one, or something? Can't you just go to Walmart and get one?"

Pete rolled his eyes and leaned his head on the back, slipping down further into the chair. "God, I wish. Of course, my mechanic closed at six, which it's just barely that now, but when I called he was all like, I'll be by tomorrow to get it, no problem. Yes, problem! How the hell am I supposed to get home?"

Behind Jonathan, his office windows overlooked Richmond's busy Broad Street; one was slightly opened to let in a little air, and through it he could hear the hissing brakes of the city bus as it stopped at the corner just outside their building. But heaven forbid he suggest Peter Giles ride the Greater Richmond Transit, even if the man's Lexus was sitting undrivable in the parking deck. Pete would most likely have the heart attack everyone thought he was heading for, given his temper.

A glance at his computer screen showed nothing that couldn't wait until the morning. Jonathan sighed, knowing the only reason Pete was still hanging around the office was because he was looking for a ride. Not that Jonathan minded; they were friends. And Lord knew Pete was easy on the eyes, with his rugged jaw and a head full of wavy chestnut hair, and deep blue eyes so dark, they almost looked black in certain light. When Jonathan first met Pete years ago, he'd been drawn to the magnetism in those eyes, the intelligence and light and, admit it, the raw sensuality shining bright in that stormy gaze. Pete's strong grip had been incredibly sexy, as well, as was his aggressive confidence throughout their interview. If only Jonathan had been single at the time ...

I'm single now, he thought, studying his old friend openly as Pete stared at the ceiling and waited for him to extend the offer of a ride home. Pete wouldn't ask -- he wasn't the type. He expected others to step up to the plate for him, which was probably why they usually did.

Jonathan shook his head, bemused. If I don't say anything, we'll sit here all night.

Finally, before the silence stretching between them could become too awkward, Jonathan said, "You know, I'm just about finished up here anyway. I can drop you off if you want to ride home with me."

A slow grin spread across Pete's face, lighting up his already handsome features. "Hey, only if you're heading out that way."

He wasn't, not by a longshot, and Pete knew that. But Jonathan stood and reached for his coat. "For you? I can take the scenic route home."

Pete clapped his hands onto the arms of the chair. "Let me treat you to dinner, at least. I was going to stop at the RVA Ale House for a burger and a beer. If you're up for it ... what do you say?"

The only thing Jonathan had at home was a freezer full of frozen entrees, none of which he really wanted to eat, anyway. They could wait another day. "That sounds great."

"Let me get my things," Pete said, heading back to his own office. "It's a date."

Only Jonathan knew it wasn't, not really.

2015 Top Ten Gay Romance

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 127,806 words | 398 pages

BLURB: 2015 Top Ten Gay Romance brings together the best-selling short stories published by JMS Books that year.

From first love to true love, from submission to sensual, from heat to sweet and everything in between, the couples in these stories are sure to keep you turning the pages as you fall in love with them.

With stories by J.M. Snyder, J.L. Merrow, Edward Kendrick, Hunter Frost, Drew Hunt, Lisa Gray, A.R. Moler, Rebecca James, Jeff Adams, and J.D. Walker, this head-over-heels collection goes beyond bedtime reading. Whether happily ever after or happy for now, there’s an ending for everyone in here!

Contains my story, Just My Style. On a particularly cold morning, stylist Jai’s hot water goes out at the salon and he scrambles to find a plumber on short notice. Enter Duane, who’s sexy and confident, and interested in getting more than just his hot water boiling. When it becomes obvious Duane wants to continue things outside of business hours, Jai agrees to a date, if only to see where the evening might lead.


From Just My Style:

Jai hurries down the block and stops in front of the salon. Inside the cab of the truck sits a man bundled in a dark, bulky jacket with a hood pulled over his head. He holds a steaming cup of Starbucks coffee in gloved hands. Jai waves and jingles his keys, as if to say look, I’m finally here. As he’s unlocking the salon’s front door, he hears the guy get out of the truck. There’s a thud as the truck’s door shuts behind Jai, then heavy footfalls as the guy crosses the sidewalk to tower behind him.

The key sticks in the lock like it tends to do in the cold weather, or when Jai’s in a hurry to get inside. He jiggles it, tugging on the knob as he curses under his breath. “Come on, you fucker ...”

Behind him, the plumber asks, “Aren’t you cold?”

Over his shoulder, Jai gives the man a withering look. “No, what do you think?”

This close, the guy is intimidating. His jacket makes him look huge, and in one hand, he carries a clunky toolbox. A lingering warmth radiates from him that must have followed him from the cab of the truck. It’s hard to see what he looks like beneath the hood -- Jai sees a chiseled jaw with a few days’ growth of unshaven whiskers, bow-shaped lips too pink from sipping the coffee, and a straight, patrician nose with a bright red tip from the chilly weather. But his eyes are hidden in the hood’s darkness, as are his cheeks, his forehead, his hair. He could be watching Jai struggle with the door, or he could be dozing up under there, Jai wouldn’t know.

At least he’s warm, Jai thinks. Note to self: next jacket I get has a hood. That, or he really is moving to Tahiti.

As if the plumber knows what Jai is thinking, he asks, “Where’s your coat?”

Jai flicks the collar of his Ralph Lauren leather windbreaker, which he got for a steal when a boutique in Carytown was going out of business over the summer but which does little to seal in his body heat in below freezing temperatures. “Excuse me, this is Polo.”

The guy sniffles. “Yeah? Well, it doesn’t look real warm.”

“I didn’t pay for it to look warm,” Jai says, turning back to the lock.

“That the right key?” the guy asks with another sniffle.

“You know what?” Jai snaps. “You want to be helpful, why don’t you move behind me and block the wind or something? I’d be able to open the damn door already if I wasn’t shivering so much.”

“You wouldn’t be shivering if you had on a real coat,” the plumber mutters.

But he takes a step to one side and the bulk of his body cuts the wind. Jai didn’t think it’d do that much good, but suddenly he does feel warmer, and he’s able to turn the key without issue, pushing the door open and letting them into the salon.

Inside it’s dry and warm, and he sighs with relief. “God. Okay. Our hot water’s out. I don’t even know where you’d start with something like that.” Hoping to be helpful, he points at the sinks. “Maybe there?”

The guy pushes back his hood, revealing pale gray eyes that take Jai’s breath away. A thick thatch of surfer-boy blond waves fall from a perfect part down the center of his crown to frame his face. With the gruff unshaven cheeks and chin, the hair gives him a leonine look that’s only enhanced by his bulk. Suddenly every move the guy makes is imbued with a feline grace, and Jai knows he’s staring but he can’t help it. He wants to lock the door behind them and never let the man leave.

Maybe this is what Kiki meant when she said he should find a different type of guy. Because he’s never had anyone like this, and Lord knows he’d like to give this man a try.

Hoping to smooth over any earlier awkwardness, he steps forward and says, “Oh, hey, where are my manners? Welcome to my salon. I’m Jai. And you are ...?”

The jacket comes off, and underneath, the guy’s almost as large as he was with it on. He wears a thin Henley shirt that outlines every muscle in his arms and back, and a pair of tight jeans that frame his hips and ass in all the right places. “Duane. Where’s your water heater?”

Jai lets his gaze trail down Duane’s backside as the plumber hangs the coat up on a nearby old-fashioned coat rack. “Hmm,” he moans, maybe overdoing it just a tad, “I don’t know but I’d love to help you find it.”

Abstinence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 8,506 words
This story is included in the anthology, Everyday Hero Box Set

BLURB: A Vic and Matt Story

J.M. Snyder's popular couple Vic and Matt are back in this short and sexy holiday tale. The guys have a tradition -- one Matt finds frustrating, to say the least -- to abstain from sex for the week between Christmas and New Year's. So what if Matt was the one to come up with the stupid rule in the first place? Can’t he create a new tradition, one where they love on each other as much as possible during the holidays?

When he’s home with nothing to do because the gym where he works is closed for renovations, Matt has plenty of time to turn Vic around to his way of thinking. But Vic seems determined to frustrate Matt at every turn. Will Matt finally get his way, or will Vic insist on waiting until midnight rings in the new year before either of them find release?


Matt slid his cool, damp hands along Vic’s trim abdominal muscles, tracing the defined six-pack on his way down to his lover’s narrow waist. “Vic?” he whispered, snuggling closer. “You awake, babe?”

Another snore, ending in something that might’ve been no. Obviously, Matt thought, his fingers trailing over firm flesh. God, this body! So lean and hard, even in sleep, taut and tight and every inch of it his. How he loved it.

My man, he thought, savoring the words. They’d been together for a few years now; hell, they had even exchanged rings, though they hadn’t yet set a date. Matt was in no rush. He knew Vic was his, body and soul. He saw it in his lover’s eyes whenever Vic looked his way, heard it in every word Vic said, felt it every time they made love.

Matt wanted to feel it now. Pressing his mouth against Vic’s chest, he whispered, “Vic?”

No response this time. He’d have to take matters into his own hands if he didn’t want to be the only one up ... and from the steady throbbing between his legs, he meant up.

Leaning in, Matt kissed Vic’s ruddy nipple, then looped the tip of his tongue through the small silver ring pierced through it. The teat stiffened immediately and, above him, Vic groaned as the hand on his shoulder clenched. Against his thigh, Matt felt Vic’s dick twitch.

That got a response. So he’s not completely dead to the world.

Matt eased his hand down between them, over smooth skin shaved clean -- Vic liked the bald look, from head to toe -- and circled his fingers around the thick root of Vic’s cock. It jumped in his hand, awake if his lover was not. Gently Matt eased down the fat length, arching back so he could guide and angle it up towards Vic’s belly instead of down between their legs. He tickled the underside, strumming over moles and veins he knew by heart even if he couldn’t see them at the moment, then held Vic’s shaft as he thumbed along the slit in the cockhead.

Vic growled somewhere above Matt, a primal sound deep in his throat that Matt felt more than heard. It rumbled through Vic’s chest and into Matt’s body like a cat’s purr. “You like that, big guy?” Matt teased, stroking Vic’s dick.

Suddenly a hand clamped on the nape of Matt’s neck. His head was eased back and he found himself staring up into Vic’s dark blue eyes. Open, wide awake, and an inky black in the shadows beneath the bed sheets.

In a grumbling voice still heavy with sleep, Vic mumbled, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Matt grinned. “Getting you up.” He gave Vic’s cock a healthy squeeze, and felt it stiffen in response. “Have to say, looks like it’s working.”

Vic’s fingers spread up into Matt’s hair, running through the thick, black curls. Then he fisted in the loose waves and tugged on them playfully. “You know what day it is, Matty.” It wasn’t a question.

“Day after Christmas.” Sticking out his tongue, Matt licked Vic’s nipple, and Vic’s dick twinged in his hand as a reward. “The way I see it, I’m off from work for a whole week, and you don’t have to be in until noon. Sadie’s in the bathroom, so until she manages to figure out how to open the door, we have a little time to ourselves to --”

“The day after Christmas.”

To Matt’s surprise, Vic twisted out of his grip and rolled away from him -- away!

As Vic slid out from under the covers, Matt sat up, confused. “Hey, wait a minute! We were sort of in the middle of something here.”

Old Familiar Song

GENRE: Contemporary, Romance
LENGTH: 66,140 words | 216 pages

BLURB: Back in college, Larry Carson played drums in a friend’s band and fell in love with the lead singer, Geoffrey Mason. But all that’s in the past. Larry’s now thirty-five, divorced, and father to a precocious thirteen-year-old daughter.

One day, when Larry picks Crystal up from school, a song comes on the radio by a new rockstar climbing the charts. Larry recognizes Geoff’s voice immediately, though Crystal calls him Geo and claims he’s the hottest new singer on the scene. Just hearing him brings back a flood of memories, reopening wounds Larry thought long healed.

The more he listens to Geo’s music, the more Larry falls in love with his former boyfriend all over again. Partly to prove to his daughter that he used to know Geo back in the day, and partly to reconnect with his old friend, Larry buys tickets to an upcoming concert and manages to score backstage passes.

But there was a reason Larry and Geoff lost touch -- and stayed out of touch for so long. Will Geo even want to see Larry again after all this time? Or will the magic of their old familiar song bring about a harmonious duet?


The first station she settled on played only a snippet of music before switching to a commercial and she was off again, fiddling with the dial to find something, anything she liked. Larry caught the tail end of an Aerosmith song and almost told her to stop, but didn’t bother.

When she finally stopped again, she cranked the volume way up. “Oh my God, I love this one!” she cried.

Larry gave her a quizzical look. “It hasn’t even started yet. How do you know --”

“It’s like my favorite song,” Crystal assured him.

To him, it sounded identical to all the other noise the radio stations called modern music. Overproduced and unoriginal, with a thumping back beat that would play well on any dance floor and merge seamlessly in with the next song on the playlist. “This is crap,” he muttered under his breath. “You really like this?”

Everyone does,” his daughter said. “Geo’s awesome.”

“What the hell kind of name is Geo?” Larry wanted to know.

Crystal didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she turned the volume up another notch as the music dropped slightly and a breathy male voice purred through the speakers.

I know him.

The thought sent a shiver through Larry -- half memory, half dream, all lust and longing and need. His knees weakened, his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. His heart stuttered in his chest. God, no. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

Hoping his voice sounded steady despite the surge of emotion suddenly roiling through him, Larry asked his daughter, “Who’s this again?”

In the passenger seat, Crystal bopped along in time with the beat. “Geo. He’s good, ain’t he?”

Good? Hell, no. Good was the kid on American Idol who could carry a tune. Good was the woman in the gym who belted out Britney Spears while wearing her iPod on the treadmill. Good was the older gentleman at the back of the church choir, the one with the bottom basement voice who could really get the congregation rolling during “Amazing Grace.”

Geo wasn’t good. The voice coming from Larry’s base model speaker system was pure honey, dripping into him sweetly and coating every inch of his insides. Lyrics in that golden voice were sung for him alone, and only him, and no one else. If he closed his eyes, he knew he could let Geo’s soothing, soulful tone carry him away to places he hadn’t been in a long, long time, back to people he used to know, dreams he used to have, things he’d loved and lost somewhere between then and now. Those words, in that voice -- they were like a heartbreak, and Larry felt tears well in his eyes because he hadn’t known until he heard them just how much he’d been missing in his life.

“Geo.” His voice didn’t betray any of the conflicting turmoil inside him, thank God. At least, if it did, Crystal was too wrapped up in the music to notice. He reached over to turn down the radio -- just a little, just enough so he wouldn’t have to compete with that glorious voice, but not too much, because he wasn’t ready to let it disappear yet. How had he managed to get through the day without hearing it before? Without knowing it existed in the world beyond him?

How would he go on, how could he, with it out there somewhere waiting?

He cleared his throat to get his daughter’s attention. When that didn’t work, he thought he knew something that might. As casually as he could, he told her, “I know this guy.”

She stopped in mid-move, arms in the air, head tipped to one side. Only the muscles in her neck moved as she swiveled around to look at him. “Nuh-uh.”

“I do,” Larry assured her. “Do you `seriously think I’d forget a voice like that?”

Now it was Crystal who turned down the radio, and Larry fought the urge to turn it back up. If he’d had headphones, they wouldn’t be enough -- he wanted that voice inside him, all the way in his head, in his heart, his soul. As deep inside as it could get; he wanted --

His lips on mine, his fingers flat on my stomach, his legs and mine tangled together on the narrow futon I used to call a bed. His eyes like stars in the darkness above me, the sweet pain as he entered me, my name in his voice. That little trill he makes in the back of his throat on the chorus? He does that when he comes, or at least he used to. He did with me.

His daughter snapped him out of the memory and back to the present. “Dad, you’ve never even heard this song before.”

With a nod, he conceded, “True.”

“You don’t even like it,” Crystal added.

Again, Larry nodded. “All right, all right. But I know this guy. I do! We went to college together.”

She turned toward him, her seat belt straining as she turned to stare at him directly. “Shut. Up.”

He glanced at her and shrugged. “No, really. Only he didn’t call himself Geo then. He was Geoffrey Mason ... well, mostly he went by Geoff. I guess the Geo is some sort of stage name or something. We sort of had this band --”

“You did not.” Crystal’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh my God! You were in a band with Geo? So why’s he famous and you’re not?”

Larry didn’t know how to answer that. The truth was, he hadn’t thought of Geo -- Geoff -- in, God, years, it seemed. The memories surfacing now were sweet, first love and boyhood romance tinged with nostalgic regret. What could’ve been ...

But what it was hadn’t been all rose petals and sunshine, really. If it had, nothing would’ve changed, and he probably wouldn’t be where he was, driving home with a pre-teen daughter beside him, an ex-wife texting to make sure he’d picked her up safely, and a weekend ahead playing the responsible father. He and Geoff would still be together, if things between them had been as perfect as he wanted to believe they’d been in retrospect. So the question was, really, what had happened?

Guilty Pleasures Box Set

GENRE: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
LENGTH: 58,157 words

BLURB: Eight erotic romance short stories of gay guilty pleasures! Here you'll find an unlikely couple stealing a quick tryst between sets at a drag show, college boyfriends spending a long weekend together on campus, a young man with a forbidden crush on his best friend's father, flamboyant neighbors, horny lovers, college room- mates, and a petulant submissive with a latex fetish.

Check out these stories and take a wild romp through the wicked pages of some of J.M. Snyder's hottest, best-selling gay erotic fiction, collected together into one box set!

Contains the stories:

Before the Show: A college student by day, drag queen by night, Devin Elliot loves his job. He likes to watch himself get ready, primping in the mirror, his masculinity slowly peeled away and replaced with feminine silk and lace. As he's getting ready for his stage show, a knock on the door interrupts him. With the clock counting down to showtime, can Devin and Chuck manage to snag some time alone before the show?

Fuck the Foreplay: Tory's a freshman in college who can't stand being away from his boyfriend Jon for long. When his roommate decides to head home for the weekend, Tory invites Jon to stay at the dorm. The moment Jon arrives, Tory can't wait to get their romantic get-together underway.

Mastering Stefan: Stefan has a latex fetish. When he meets the man of his dreams at a local gay bar, can he prove himself worthy of Master’s affection?

Money's Worth: Carl has always harbored feelings for his outrageous roommate, Ritchie, but he's too shy to do anything about it. When a stranger outside a club offers Ritchie a blowjob for ten bucks, he doesn’t have the cash, and Carl isn't paying someone else to suck off the guy he likes. If Ritchie wants a blowjob, why doesn't he just ask Carl?

My Best Friend's Dad: I had the worst crush on Mikey Pierce's dad. The week before leaving for college, I stayed at Mikey's while Mr. Pierce and his buddies gambled. When I snuck downstairs for beers, the card game was over and I thought all the visitors had left. But Mr. Pierce wasn't alone in the dining room. The man with him owed a couple hundred bucks from playing cards, and I had a ring-side seat as he paid up.

On the Down Low: Nick's the only white guy at his roommate Tyrone's hip hop party, but Tyrone's friend De'Andre is the center of attention. The moment Nick notices him, he gets sprung. De'Andre is big and black and hot damn, but he's sexy. Nick feels out of his league -- he's young, white, gay, and desperately looking for a chance to spend some time alone with De'Andre. Luckily De'Andre seems just as interested.

Take It Outside: It's close to midnight, New Year's Eve, and Matt is tired of watching Vic mingle at Roxie's party. After several beers, Matt wants a piece of his lover, and he wants it now. And we all know Matt gets what he wants. NOTE: You don't have to read any other Vic and Matt story to understand what happens in this one!

Windows: Thom is down on love, having walked in on his lover with a friend and caught them doing the nasty. After he kicks said lover out, he writes off men for good. Then Bradley moves in next door and Thom can’t help but notice. Suddenly Thom finds himself in the position of voyeur and knows Bradley knows he’s watching. He doesn’t need another lover, but how long can he resist Bradley's advances?


From On the Down Low:

I bullied my way back into the apartment, the main room, the hall, and almost got as far as the foyer when the bathroom door opened to block my path. Through the thick haze inside I saw my roommate sitting on the closed toilet seat. I ducked under the arm of whoever was exiting the bathroom and followed the stench of pot inside. "Tyrone."

De'Andre's deep voice answered. "There's our token white boy," he said, and I spun around to find him stretched out along the edge of the bathtub, leaning back against the wall with his long legs crossed as he toked on one of my buds. Raising the joint, he told me, "This chronic is phat. Where'd you get it?"

Now that I had found him, I didn't want to admit I'd been looking in the first place. Shoving my fists into my pockets, I shrugged and muttered, "I got my sources." I glared at my reflection in the mirror and wished Tyrone would go away.

With a laugh, De'Andre grabbed the back pocket of my jeans and pulled me to him. I felt like a fish, caught on a rod and reeled in. Before I could think to fight him, I plopped down into his lap. A slight groan escaped his lips when I sat on the hardness that bulged at his crotch, then his arms were around my waist, holding me in place. Each move I made earned another little moan. I fought against the urge to put my hands down on his jeans to reposition myself and cop a feel. Through the thick denim his dick swelled against my ass, hard from the drugs or the party or me, I wasn't sure which.

Remembering Tyrone, I tried to stand but De'Andre held me tight. "Lemme go," I muttered, but I didn't mean it and he didn't comply. My roommate snorted laughter and foamy beer bubbled out of his flat nose. I kicked at him across the bathroom but my sneaker missed his leg by a few scant inches. "Shut the fuck up, Tyrone. Where's the rest of my pot?"

Tyrone rolled his eyes and pointed at the smoke hovering above us before dissolving into giggles. "Up in smoke, my man. Up in smoke."

I kicked him again, this time leaning forward to connect with his shin. "Hey!" he shouted, slapping my foot away. A wounded look crept into his eyes. "Fuckwad. Who invited you to this party anyway?"

"I live here," I reminded him as De'Andre pulled me back. "How much --"

De'Andre's hand clamped over my mouth, his other arm coming up behind me to hug me against him. "Don't be haten, boys. Tyrone, get lost."

My roommate stopped in mid-giggle. "Wha?" he asked, frowning at us. "Man, that blunt's not done yet."

Keeping one hand over my mouth, De'Andre reached around me with the other and plucked the joint from his mouth, then chucked it in the sink. Tyrone scrambled to retrieve it before it went out. "Take it and go," De'Andre said. His hand smelled of pot and a deeper, darker scent, a musk all his own. When I licked out to taste him, the tip of my tongue tingled and he snapped at Tyrone, "Get the fuck outta here already, will you? I got business to attend to with Nicky."

"Nick," I corrected, my voice lost in the folds of his hand. Tyrone glared at me as he left, slamming the door shut behind him. For a long moment, De'Andre didn't move, didn't let me go. Finally I raised my hands to his and tried to pry his fingers away. He let me get beneath the first two fingers, then brusquely turned my face to his and pulled me down for a rough, hot kiss.