*Giveaway, Blog Tour & Character Interview* w/Cat Grant & Rachel Haimowitz *Riptide Publishing*

Thank you for joining us on the Power Play: Awakening virtual release tour!

                       *throws penis-shaped confetti borrowed from Anne Tenino*

                           No party is complete without favors, so we'll be giving away
                 winner’s choice of one backlist book from
                   Cat or Rachel to one lucky commenter 
                                             from this blog at the end of the tour.

We'll also be giving away a lovely custom chainmail bracelet with a silver padlock clasp (handmade by Amara Devonte – check out her other delicious offerings here in her Etsy shop http://www.etsy.com/shop/FreiaInguz?ref=no-search-results) to one lucky commenter drawn from all the tour stops, so follow along and party with us at each--you can earn an entry at every stop!

((((Check this out to see what it would look like....))))

                                      
To help celebrate the release of the kinktastic Power Play: Awakening, the authors wrangled their characters into an interrogation chair for your reading pleasure.

Today Brandon McKinney discusses the evolution of his D/s relationship with Jonathan Watkins, and how they finally found their happy ending.

Thanks for joining us today, Brandon. You’ve got big smile on your face. I take it everything’s going well with you and Jonathan?

Hi, yeah, yeah it is.

That’s quite a change from where we left you and Jonathan at the end of Power Play: Resistance. What made you decide to trust Jonathan after fighting him for so long?

I guess we both figured some things out about ourselves and each other, you know? Started meeting on middle ground a little— well, a lot more, actually. And part of it was that he earned my trust, but maybe even a bigger part of it was just me figuring stuff out in my own head, learning that some of the little voices in there were maybe not so good to listen to and that strength isn’t always about fighting.

Tell us about the time you spent together at Jonathan’s house in Big Sur.

Exhausting. *chuckles* Boy did he ever keep me busy there, but you know what? I can’t remember the last time—before Jonathan, that is—that I was that happy. And oh, hey, did you know he has a boat? I mean, like, a boat boat. Very cool.

I didn’t, no. But I guess he has a number of surprises up his sleeve?

You could certainly say that. Keeps me on my toes, whew!

How about your trip to China? We understand it ended on a rather . . . tense note.

Yeah, you could certainly say that too. But you know, for all that, looking back on it now? What I remember more than anything is how happy I was. How excited to get out there and see things I’d only ever dreamed of and do something I really honestly did not think I was capable of doing and realize, at the end of the day, that there actually was a way to take this . . . this kind of relationship and make it work in the real world.

You and Jonathan seem very happy together at the end of Awakening. How does a non-masochist find that kind of contentment living with a Dominant with a wide sadistic streak?

I try to be very, very, very good. *laughs* But, no, seriously—I mean, yeah, I do obviously try not to give him reasons to break out the cane—but when I do, it’s okay, you know? Because I don’t like who I am when I’m irresponsible or childish or when I let my anger take over, and because I love him too much to bear disappointing him and then not being an adult about it afterward. And sometimes, when he just wants, you know, to, um . . . I mean, when I haven’t done anything wrong and he does it anyway, it’s kind of amazing how . . . well, how good those times can be, because yeah, I’m not really a masochist, but I know now I’m definitely a submissive, and to let him take me by the hand and sink me into that headspace, and to know I’m doing it for him, and to know how much pleasure he takes from it and how much pleasure he can wring from me in the process . . . *blushes* Um. So, yeah. That’s how, I guess.

Blurb:Brandon McKinney is a man reborn. Newly awakened to the notion of consensual power exchange and the submissive urges inside him, he begs for a second chance from the man who opened his eyes to this world: Silicon Valley superstar Jonathan Watkins. But no birth is absent pain, and Brandon’s is no exception. He fears he’s not strong enough to see it through.

Jonathan knows better. He’s seen the iron core inside his new submissive, and the wounded heart inside him too. He means to teach Brandon to heal the one with the other. They have five months left on their contract, after all, and Jonathan has done more with less before.

It’s tough to stay objective, though, when you’re falling in love. Shame Brandon doesn’t feel the same. He’s only there for the three-million-dollar payout at contract’s end—a fact that Jonathan, nursing his own wounded heart, reminds himself of each day. For even as Brandon’s barriers break and his mind expands, even as he grows to love his place at Jonathan’s feet, he’ll never love life with a sadist—especially one who cannot escape the public eye.


About the authors:
Rachel Haimowitz is an M/M erotic romance author, a freelance writer and editor, and the Managing Editor of Riptide Publishing. She's also a sadist with a pesky conscience, shamelessly silly, and quite proudly pervish. Fortunately, all those things make writing a lot more fun for her . . . if not so much for her characters.

When she's not writing about hot guys getting it on (or just plain getting it; her characters rarely escape a story unscathed), she loves to read, hike, camp, sing, perform in community theater, and glue captions to cats. She also has a particular fondness for her very needy dog, her even needier cat, and shouting at kids to get off her lawn.

You can find Rachel at her website, Tweeting as RachelHaimowitz, chatting in the Goodreads forums, and blogging at Fantasy Unbound. She loves to hear from folks, so feel free to drop her a line anytime at metarachel (at) gmail (dot) com.

EPIC Award–winning author Cat Grant lives by the sea in beautiful Monterey, California, with one persnickety feline and entirely too many books and DVDs. When she's not writing, she sings along (badly!) to whatever's on her iPod shuffle, watches lots of movies, and fantasizes about kinky sex with Michael Fassbender.

Where to find Cat:
Website: http://www.catgrant.com
Blog: http://catgrant.blogspot.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/cat.grant
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/CatGrant2009
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1912055.Cat_Grant

 

***The thing you have waited for.....***

**Giveaway Time & Rules!**

Okay, first for the bracelet, you have to follow the blog tour for that one  -->> You win a lovely custom chainmail bracelet with a silver padlock clasp (handmade by Amara Devonte) to one lucky commenter drawn from all the tour stops, so follow along and party with us at each--you can earn an entry at every stop!

Now for my Giveaway!!!

Winner’s choice of one backlist book from

Cat or Rachel to one lucky commenter!!!

Fill out the form & Good Luck!

The form has all the details! =)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 And remember... Always keep it Dirty, Smutty & Hussy!

Review: Resistance: Power Play by Cat Grant & Rachel Haimowitz

Power Play: Resistance
Author: Rachel Haimowitz & Cat Grant

Give me six months, and I'll give you the world.

Brandon McKinney has scraped and sacrificed for what little in life he’s ever had. Though it’s been fifteen years since he escaped his father’s abuse, the damage remains. Trust seems as far out of reach as his dream of becoming an architect, and though he’s come to accept being gay, he can’t deny the shame and confusion he feels at other urges—the deeply-repressed desire to submit.

Jonathan Watkins is a self-made Silicon Valley billionaire whose ex-wife took half his money and even more of his faith. Comfortable as a Dominant but wary of being hurt again, he resorts to anonymous pickups and occasional six-month contracts with subs seeking only a master, not a lover.

When a sizzling back-alley encounter cues Jonathan in to Brandon’s deep-seated submissive side, he makes the man an offer: Give me six months of your life, and I’ll open your eyes to a whole new world. Brandon doesn’t care about that; all he wants is the three million dollars Jonathan’s offering so he can buy the construction company he works for. But he soon learns that six months on his knees is no easy feat, and shame and pride may keep him from all he ever wanted—and all he never dreamed he had any right to have.

I obtained the above information from Riptide website.

For those of you that know me... and those that don't this is my little statement about short books.... I do not judge short stories on the rush of their relationships, because they are just that - short stories. So, yes the relationships always could have been drawn out more, yea it seems like they fall in love to fast and of course the story could have been made longer... but it is a short story. So with that said.... here is my review...
Also, I will leave you with the warning that this is a m/m book/review. If m/m is not your cup of tea... or if you are not sure this fits in your comfort zone, you will not offend me if you if you just stop by to say Hi!

I was given this book for my honest thoughts about this book... So here goes!

Okay... Where do I start. First let me say that I am not new to the author's from Riptide Publishing house. They all rock... But these two ladies... Wow. This was great. Normally I would put my own thoughts at the end of the review of the book, but this story is so powerful that I feel like I have to tell you now... The reason is because most of you that I know do read m/m... and most of you read bdsm.... But I wanted to give you a warning and I don't mean this is oh no don't read this book.. I want to warn you for those of you that read fluff bdsm... You know spanking, toys, dom/sub... Those stories are hot and awesome and just a bit of the dark side to make you feel naughty.... But this book.. One word can describe this book - INTENSE!

This book will suck you in *no pun intended*, chew you up... and then spit you out to do it all over again. You will see what you think is a dominant man, Brandon, who meets the man of the hour... Or should I say the man of the alley... Brandon sees something in this man that he wants more of... Or does he. Brandon, Bran as he likes to be called, has a past that will shock you to your core. What you will not feel is pity for the man. He has not played the victim of his life. No sir, he wouldn't say that he has made something of himself, but he would say he got there all by himself. But what he gets from this man will forever change his life... The future that Bran sees just might not be the future he gets... Signing on for a deal like the one Bran signs up for might cost him more than his life.....

Jonathan is very intrigued by the man that has captured his eye... He has studied him, investigated him and in a way - stalked him... Like prey. But what Jonathan did not count on was this man possibly capturing his heart. Jonathan is a sadistic dominant man. Pure dominant. There is no give with Jonathan, you get what he wishes to give to you when he wishes to give it to you and if you argue with him... Well, you just might find yourself strapped to St. Andrew's cross being caned... Or much worst. Pain is a pleasure to Jonathan... Something he thinks Brandon craves - secretly of course. But Jonathan wants to bring all of Brandon's demons to the surface so Brandon can break to become the man Jonathan knows is under that facade Brandon hides behind. But in breaking Brandon... Jonathan just might break himself... At what point is enough truly enough...

This was on of my hardest reads only because I personally have never read anything on the darker side of the bdsm world. I was/am a fluff reader and I can admit that. You know what your comfort zone is, you know if you are willing to let someone push you to a limit you never knew was there... This book (if you are not use of the darker side of bdsm) will push you out of your zone. If you are looking for a sweet, spanking romance... Please do not read this book. I am not trying discourage you from reading this, I just do not want you pointing fingers to the authors that you did not like the book because it was not something you would normally read. I want you to.... savor this book. It is a story to stick with you. Hell, it will stick with you. You will think of this book after you finish it... And I was sooo happy to know their story continues in a few months.

This story is excellently told.... Intense, I already said.... Bold, hard, loving, cold, mean, kind and sadistic. The characters are shown to you in a way that you will feel their past, live their present and crave to see their future. This story was compelling in many ways... Ladies, I have to say you two did a wonderful job at delivering us the story of Jonathan and Brandon and I cannot wait for more!!!!

And remember... Always keep it Dirty, Smutty & Hussy!

*Blog Tour* Power Play: Resistance by Cat Grant and Rachel Haimowitz *Riptide Publishing*

I want you all to put together a warm Hussy Lair welcome to two wonderful ladies....

Please welcome Ms. Cat Grant and Ms. Rachel Haimowitz!!!!!

Thank you for joining us on the Power Play: Resistance virtual release tour! *throws penis-shaped confetti borrowed from Anne Tenino* No party is complete without favors, so we'll be giving away winner’s choice of one backlist book from Cat or Rachel to one lucky commenter from this blog at the end of the tour. We'll also be giving away a classic Nook pre-loaded with six of our titles to one lucky commenter drawn from all the tour stops, so follow along and party with us at each--you can earn an entry at every stop!

To help celebrate the release of the kinktastic Power Play: Resistance, the authors wrangled their characters into an interrogation chair for your reading pleasure.

Today we’re talking to Devon Turner, star of such Hollywood blockbusters as They’re Coming for You, Thrill Kill and the upcoming live-action version of Devil May Cry. As some of you may recall, he got his start as a young heart-throb on the 1996 TV series California Dreamin’. He divides his time between Hollywood and New York, where his spouse, Nicky Avery, is currently starring in the Broadway revival of Godspell.

1)    So, Devon . . . where did you & Jonathan meet?

At a Time Magazine Top 100 party, actually. He was 24 and taking the world by storm, just divorced and frankly pretty destroyed by it. I was 29 and fresh off the biggest success of my career. We were both honorees, but poor Jonathan was having a hard time enjoying himself. I suppose I always have been one to bring home birds with broken wings, and God was he ever beautiful—still is, to be honest, and I don’t just mean his body or his face. I had to talk to him.

2)    Jonathan’s spoken of “spending time on (my) knees” – an unusual thing for such a well-known Dom (and sadist!) to say. Can you fill us in on what he meant?

He meant exactly what he said; he and the various floors in my home were quite intimately acquainted by the end of our time together.

3)    Congratulations on your recent marriage to Broadway star Nicky Avery. Can you tell us about some of the unique rewards/challenges of being out of the closet in Hollywood?

Thank you! I’d say the biggest reward and challenge is, well, Nicky, the cheeky little bastard. *smiles* But seriously, the biggest reward is knowing that maybe you’re helping people in some small way. I mean, let’s face it, I have a ridiculous job. I get paid ridiculous amounts of money to do ridiculous things that like as not contribute nothing but a fun 90 minutes to society. Of course sometimes you get to work on a project that feels really meaningful, where you feel like, Yeah, this is important, this matters, but mostly you can’t take yourself or what you do too seriously. But coming out—not just as gay but as kinky and proud—well, I get letters all the time from kids, even adults, saying how that helped them to come out too, to feel better about themselves, to not be ashamed, to not hide anymore. That’s more rewarding than anything I could do on a movie screen, and I feel blessed, quite frankly, that I’m in a position where I can make that sort of difference, however small.

The biggest challenge is the flipside of that coin, of course. Did you know “my people” caused Hurricane Katrina? Because apparently we did. And Nicky and I are the butts of a lot of jokes, many not at all friendly. A lot of people out there think we’re sick—it’s not “bad enough” we’re gay; we had to be “sickos” and “perverts” too—and don’t hesitate to write us nasty notes to let us know. Plus the press is rather endlessly fascinated by what goes on in our bedroom. Not that we ever really talk about that, but it sure as shit doesn’t keep them from asking.

Blurb:

Give me six months, and I'll give you the world.

Brandon McKinney has scraped and sacrificed for what little in life he’s ever had. Though it’s been fifteen years since he escaped his father’s abuse, the damage remains. Trust seems as far out of reach as his dream of becoming an architect, and though he’s come to accept being gay, he can’t deny the shame and confusion he feels at other urges—the deeply-repressed desire to submit.

Awakening ~ Coming to you on June 11th

Jonathan Watkins is a self-made Silicon Valley billionaire whose ex-wife took half his money and even more of his faith. Comfortable as a Dominant but wary of being hurt again, he resorts to anonymous pickups and occasional six-month contracts with subs seeking only a master, not a lover.

When a sizzling back-alley encounter cues Jonathan in to Brandon’s deep-seated submissive side, he makes the man an offer: Give me six months of your life, and I’ll open your eyes to a whole new world. Brandon doesn’t care about that; all he wants is the three million dollars Jonathan’s offering so he can buy the construction company he works for. But he soon learns that six months on his knees is no easy feat, and shame and pride may keep him from all he ever wanted—and all he never dreamed he had any right to have.

You can read an excerpt and order Power Play: Resistance here.


About the authors:

Rachel Haimowitz is an M/M erotic romance author, a freelance writer and editor, and the Managing Editor of Riptide Publishing. She's also a sadist with a pesky conscience, shamelessly silly, and quite proudly pervish. Fortunately, all those things make writing a lot more fun for her . . . if not so much for her characters.

When she's not writing about hot guys getting it on (or just plain getting it; her characters rarely escape a story unscathed), she loves to read, hike, camp, sing, perform in community theater, and glue captions to cats. She also has a particular fondness for her very needy dog, her even needier cat, and shouting at kids to get off her lawn.

You can find Rachel at her website, Tweeting as RachelHaimowitz, chatting in the Goodreads forums, and blogging at Fantasy Unbound. She loves to hear from folks, so feel free to drop her a line anytime at metarachel (at) gmail (dot) com.

EPIC Award–winning author Cat Grant lives by the sea in beautiful Monterey, California, with one persnickety feline and entirely too many books and DVDs. When she's not writing, she sings along (badly!) to whatever's on her iPod shuffle, watches lots of movies, and fantasizes about kinky sex with Michael Fassbender.

Where to find Cat:
Website
Blog
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads

And remember... Always keep it Dirty, Smutty & Hussy!

Review: Master Class by Rachel Haimowitz

Broadway darling Nicky Avery is a shooting star by night, but by day he bounces from one heartless one-night stand to the next. A quick flogging, a rough lay, a new whip-hand to manipulate—yet still he yearns for something he cannot even name.

He finds his first true hint of satisfaction in Devon Turner, a self-possessed film star and expert Dom. Devon knows what he wants the moment he sees it, and what he wants is Nicky Avery. Nicky’s never learned to trust and has a nasty habit of topping from the bottom, but he learns fast that in the bedroom, Devon won’t tolerate his actor’s masks.

Nicky's a broken boy, but Devon knows exactly how to put his new sub back together. With patience, care, and all the punishments his little pain slut can handle, Devon breaks Nicky down one scene at a time, revealing a mind that yearns to trust and a heart that hungers for the ecstasy of true submission at last.

Genre: BDSM, contemporary, gay erotic romance
Length: 16,700 words (57 pages)

I obtained the above information from Ms. Rachel's website.


For those of you that know me... and those that don't this is my little statement about short books.... I do not     judge short stories on the rush of their relationships, because they are just that - short stories. So, yes the relationships always could have been drawn out more, yea it seems like they fall in love to fast and of course the story could have been made longer... but it is a short story. So with that said.... here is my review... I was given this book for my honest thoughts... So let's go..

Ms. Rachel is a new to me author. However I will say this, her style is very intriguing. Now... Just in case the cover does not give this away... This is a m/m novel... So, if this is not your cup of flavor... You will not offend me, but just drop by to say Hi! If so... then let's go on!

Now, I will have to say though that this is a rather tad bit harsh bdsm m/m book. So, if being tested to your limits and being put out of your comfort zone... does not interest you... Again, just peek in to say hi, lol. But if I have piqued your interest, you really might want to think about reading this story.

I did find Devon to be a little rough/harsh on Nicky sometimes. But once I got in the story and found out his reasoning, it made sense. Devon knew or was praying he knew what Nicky needed all along. Hard love, stern punishment, and ownership can go a long way. And Devon was hoping that was exactly what Nicky would want... Especially from him!

Being a spoiled brat is not all what its cracked up to be. Especially if you dream of someday finding someone to control... You. Nicky was use to calling all the shots, all the time. In work and in the bedroom. Even though he thought himself to be a sub, he tries to act like a Dom. And the men he had in the past would allow him to do just that... play, act, pretend to be the Dom while acting like the sub. Nicky did not realize what he stirred inside Devon until it was almost to late.... And then his whole world will change but is he ready for that!

I enjoyed the story. I understood the harshness of Devon but I also understood Nicky and his emotions. The roughness is right for this story. Devon is a true Dom - with a capital D!  And he is falling for a sub who needs a little more the just the average TLC. Can their relationship work after the acting is done....

If you inclined to see more of Rachel Haimowitz  has to offer, please visit her website.

And remember... Keep it Dirty, Smutty & Hussy!

 

Giveaway & Guest Post by Rachel Haimowitz for Riptide

Welcome, Ladies and Gents of the Lair... I want to welcome you to week long party! Let the party continue...

Let's welcome Rachel Haimowitz to the Lair!


As someone who writes m/m with bondage, do you identify more with your Dom or sub character? Or are their heads equally easy to slip into for you?
From a personal perspective, I’d have to say I identify more with the Dom, as that’s the role I take in real life. That being said, being a good Dom—to me, at least—means doing everything in your power to understand your sub’s motives, needs, wants, desires, fears, secret fantasies, boundaries, even their thoughts from moment to moment. So in that regard, it’s quite possible that I identify more with the sub. Certainly in a real scene, my sub is my entire focus. In my written scenes, the sub the Dom’s entire focus, too. And because understanding a sub’s inner processes is so important to me, I do tend to write quite a bit of my BDSM scenes from the sub’s POV—more, actually, than I write from the Dom’s POV. So I guess the short answer is that it’s easy for me to slip into both their heads, even if the Dom POV comes more naturally to me.

How difficult was it to take that first (or 100th) idea and actually created an entire story from it? 
Short answer? Hard. Ideas are easy; I’ve got more of those than I could develop in ten lifetimes. Taking that first wisp of an idea and fleshing it out into a story-world is a little less easy, but arguably (for me at least) the most fun part of writing. It’s where you can let your imagination fly, where you can explore every possibility, where nothing is set in stone yet and no answer is explicitly wrong. I find it helps tremendously to have at least one person you can use as a sounding board during this stage; they’ll come at it with different eyes and different life experiences, and will invariably find connections you could not.
Moving past the fleshing-out stage and actually sitting down to write is by far the hardest part of creating a story. I’m more of a pantser than a plotter, so I tend to just write for a while and let the world and characters take me where they will. But about halfway through that process, the shape of the story becomes clear enough for me to stop and outline the rest. That’s my compromise between the creative freedom of explorative writing and the tight, well-paced focus of outline writing. Mind you, the beginning almost always needs redoing, or at least editing quite heavily, once I hit the outline stage. In Counterpoint, I cut about 40 pages out of the beginning and wrote about 25 new ones to replace it with. Anchored was a little smoother going, as that story was birthed more or less fully grown right from the start: an adult Athena popping from Zeus’s head. It was only the world details that needed changing in Anchored, as I discovered them along the way. 

I’m always curious where people find their inspiration. So I want to know where you get your plot ideas. Are they just floating around up there in the gray matter? 
For me, I think it’s mostly just about keeping my eyes and ears open. The oddest things can trigger an idea. If you want to hear what triggered the idea for Anchored, hop on over to Nina Pierce’s blog(http://ninapierce.com/blog/), where I did a guest post earlier this week that addressed exactly that. For the most part, though, it’s just totally random. I’ve learned to follow all my little “what if” musings and daydreams, to let my mind play with them and to write them down; you can mine gold in those fleeting thoughts. 
Sometimes there’s a collision of concepts, too. For instance, a couple weeks ago I was watching some crappy crime procedural that was investigating an organ-stealing ring. And then I read an excerpt from a book with an immortal character. Somehow, my brain mashed those two things together and said, “Wouldn’t it be interesting to have some kind of human with regenerative capacity being held captive by a black-market organ ring? They’d take his liver, and he’d grow a new one.” From there I started thinking about what kind of human: Genetically modified? Magically immortal? Cursed by the gods like Prometheus? Not human at all, but an alien with compatible organs? And then I started thinking about what kind of plot I could build around that story. Will anything ever come of it? Who knows. But I’ve got a file full of notes, and maybe one day it’ll be a story.

How does look your typical writing day? Do you write in the mornings, evenings or it doesn't matter to you?
I’m very fortunate not to have a 9-to-5 job, so I have a ton of flexibility in how and when I write. I work my day job from home and set my own hours and workload, with rare exception (scheduled client interviews, or a rapid-turnaround press kit, for example), so most weeks I’m able to spend a good chunk of each day working on my own stuff. I tend to be quite the night owl, so a typical day might see me waking at 1 or 2 in the afternoon, and writing so far into the night I watch the sun rise the next morning. Other times I’m on “normal person” hours, and I go to bed at 10 and wake up at 6 and start writing first thing in the morning. As long as I get enough sleep (and I may be the only person in America who does), I can get the writerly juices flowing at any time of day or night.

Here's an excerpt from my newest release at Riptide Publishing, Master Class: 

Chapter 1


Even stars got star-struck, right? It was perfectly normal. Not embarrassing at all.
At least, that's what Nicky kept telling himself as he stared across the table at Devon fucking Turner, A-lister extraordinaire and, let's face it, hunk to beat all hunks.
And Dom to beat all subs, too. Nicky was certain of it. The way Devon met his eyes with such force across the candle-lit table that Nicky had to avert his gaze. The way he made Nicky feel like the only man in the room, naked at Devon's mercy despite the armor of his three-piece suit and the other six guests at the table, only two of whom he knew but all of whom, he was certain, could see right through his flustered, lust-sick stare.
Shit, he had to get out of here, get some air. Get his head back on his shoulders before it ended up, uninvited, in Devon's lap.
"Excuse me," he blurted, standing up from the table hard enough to skid his chair. He'd forgotten about the napkin in his lap; it swooshed to the floor as all eyes landed on him. Why had he tied his tie so tight? "I uh . . ." He pointed vaguely toward the area where he thought the restrooms were. "Excuse me."
He ran off before he could take stock of all the curious looks. Or, God help him, the knowing one—the absolute, bone-deep surety—of Devon Turner's.
He found the men's room without fuss and pushed through the door, just leaning for a moment on the other side remembering how to breathe. For Christ's sake, this wasridiculous. He performed in front of thousands eight times a week without the slightest trouble. What was his problem now?
He cast a glance at the empty urinals and realized he did kind of have to piss. Took care of it with trembling fingers and a visualization exercise or three to keep his Devon-induced erection at bay. Went to the sink to wash his hands and nearly jumped right out of his shoes when the bathroom door opened, and in strode the object of his fantasies.
This time, when Devon's eyes zeroed in on Nicky's, Nicky couldn't look away. Wanted to, didn't want to . . . didn't matter. Somehow, he couldn't move.
Devon stepped forward. Glided, more like—all grace and easy confidence—snatched up one of Nicky's wrists in a powerful hand and pulled him close. No words, which was probably for the best; Nicky doubted he'd have heard them anyway over his heart thudding in his ears or the Vader-esque rasping of his breath. Just a single silent look from Devon, long and piercing, more a statement than a question: Pay up, that look said. Make good on every single thing you haven’t been saying for the last hour. I know you. I see you. You see me too.
Yes. God yes.
Nicky didn’t struggle when Devon forced his still-dripping hand against his crotch, made him use his pants like a towel—an expensive, pinstriped, tenting towel. Thank God the restaurant was dimly lit; otherwise his erection would show across the room. So would the giant wet spot.
But that was all the thought he gave it as Devon twisted his wrist, forcing Nicky's fingers against his own straining cock. Still Devon watched him carefully, so, so carefully, looking for the argument, the repulsion, the horror. Not expecting to find it, but looking nonetheless. Being responsible.
Nicky ducked his head and thrust his hips forward. I want what you’ve got.
But Devon just yanked Nicky’s wrist out to the side and shoved him so hard into the sink that he only stayed (mostly) quiet because Devon slapped one giant paw over his mouth.
He was still breathing through the pain in his back when Devon pulled his hand away and mashed his lips to Nicky’s, biting until Nicky opened his mouth in another breathless yell—half surprise, half pain, half Oh my God I'm being kissed by Devon fucking Turner, and yes, he was perfectly aware that made three halves, thank you very much. Who could care about things like that anyway when Devon’s tongue was parting his lips, when their crotches were grinding together so sweetly that it took only moments before Nicky thought—with what little thought remained—that a water-wet crotch would soon be the least of his problems.
Until Devon stopped, ripping away and shoving Nicky two-handed to the floor.
But that was okay. Heck, more than okay. Nicky could play this game. He could play it very, very well.
He swallowed a moan and crawled toward Devon’s feet, head down, ass up, inviting—Take what you want, his body said. Beat me, fuck me; preferably both at once.
“When I’m good and ready, whore.” Devon stepped on Nicky’s outstretched hand and sneered down at him with positively withering contempt. Nicky’s cheeks burned as hot as the tender flesh beneath Devon’s heel, but he made no attempt to pull his hand back, to stand up, to take back the offer he’d made. He rather liked it down here, after all. Always had.
But Devon just ran a hand through his hair, straightened his tie, lifted his foot from Nicky’s hand, and left the bathroom without another word.
Nicky waited until the door had closed behind Devon before rising to his feet. What the fuck had just happened? If not for the pain in his back and hand, the wetness at his crotch, and the tingle at his lips, he might have doubted it had happened at all. Too good to be true. Too odd to be true.
Except for the part where it was.
Bracing his hands against the sink, he blinked into the mirror and tried to compose his face into some semblance of normalcy. He did that for a living, for fuck’s sake; why was it so hard now? Faucet. Cold water splashed on hot cheeks with shaking fingers. Towel dry.
His erection was slowly fading. God only knew how long he’d been staring through the mirror, what his friends must be thinking about his absence. He pulled away and forced his feet to carry him back into the dining room—back to his table, to Devon—trying to pretend he wasn’t spending every conscious second wondering how Devon’s cock would taste shoved down his throat. 


Chapter 2


From the front row of the empty theater, Nicky's director sighed loudly enough to carry past the mezzanine.
The stage manager, clearly bored with feeding Nicky lines, read in a monotone from the script in his lap. “And then he will say to them: Anything you did for one of your brothers here, however humble, you did for me.”
Nicky whispered it once to cement it in his brain, then repeated it aloud, eyes roving about his castmates pretending to be sheep on their hands and knees.
He’d not seen too many sheep floating around Manhattan, but he was pretty certain they didn’t usually look so pissy.
Of course, he was pretending to be Jesus, and he was pretty certain the son of God didn’t grind near-strangers in a men’s room and then spend the next day forgetting his lines.
His castmates baaah’d in unison. One dead beat followed. Then another. He was really starting to hate this scene.
Robin elbowed him in the shin. Shit, his line again? He pointed—stage right? No, stage left. “For when I was hungry—”
“God, no!”
A-ha-ha, yeah, because that joke never gets old.
Nicky threw his director a sheepish (a-ha-ha) look and waited for the man to correct him.
“It’s ‘to the eternal fire, that has been ready for you with the devil and all his angels.’ Then‘For when I was hungry, blah blah blah. Jesus, Nicky”—and clearly, no joke intended this time—“what’s gotten into you today?”
Nicky shrugged. “Sorry, boss. Not feeling very well.”
What a lying liar he was. And an idiot, too; here he was in the starring role of fuckingGodspell, the fucking Broadway revival no less, and he couldn’t get his head out of his ass. Couldn’t stop thinking about dinner last night with his actor buddies and their actor buddies, about what it had been like to sit next to Mr. Devon Turner for an hour and a half.
About what had happened afterward.
“All right, you know what? Go home. Get some rest. Adam, get in there for him.”
His understudy peeled out of the house and up onto the stage in two seconds flat, and Nicky, relieved and not nearly as guilty as he knew he should be, offered apologies and a “See you tomorrow” to his castmates. A quick trip to his dressing room to change his clothes and wash the face paint off his right cheek, and then he’d be out of here. The faster he got home, the faster he could jerk off. Or not jerk off; he wondered how long he could deny himself tonight before going crazy, if he could manage to sleep without touching himself.
Without thinking of Devon.
He closed and locked his dressing room door, stripped off his Superman t-shirt, and stood in front of the mirror, twisting around with a hiss to examine the soreness at the small of his back. Shame there was no bruise. He pressed two fingers to the tender flesh and hissed again, smiling.
When I'm good and ready, whore, Devon had said. Threatened. Promised.
Hopefully he’d be ready soon. Still thinking of dinner (and dessert, definitely dessert), Nicky pulled on a t-shirt and a gray hoodie, jeans and sneakers, hung up his Superman tee, and left the dressing room, the strap of his courier bag slung right across the soreness Devon had caused.
His mind was turned so intently toward yesterday’s dinner, toward that moment of instant recognition—his “Domdar” pinging, Devon’s “subdar” clearly pinging just as loud—toward Devon’s laissez faire enjoyment of his food and his drink and all his company but Nicky, whom he’d ignored with such finesse after their encounter in the bathroom that Nicky wouldn’t even have noticed being ignored if he himself hadn’t been staring, fixated, at Devon’s hands, Devon’s mouth, the casual cruelty just beneath the surface of Devon’s boisterous, Ken-doll-handsome face . . .
So inward were his thoughts that when he walked past the last row of seats in the theater, he didn’t notice Devon.
A hand caught his wrist, squeezing hard, and his first thought was “Oh fuck, crazy fan.” Before he could wonder how said fan had gotten into the closed rehearsal, before he could even try to yank his arm away, a big body to match the big hand was pressing into his, lips touching his ear, warm breath whispering, “Not a sound, boy. Not one.” A thumb found its way into a pressure point on Nicky’s trapped wrist, just daring him to defy the order, but Nicky bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, held his breath and nodded.
“Macbeth ruins everything,” the whisper continued.
No shit. It was ridiculous to be so superstitious, but at the mention of that cursed play, he couldn’t help but cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure there wasn’t an electrical fire smoldering in the catwalk or an uncovered trap door on the stage.
“Say it, and it ends the night. ‘Macbeth.’ Understand?” The thumb dug deeper and Nicky choked off a grunt, nodded again, short and fast. “Say it now. Once. Practice.”
“Macbeth,” he whispered back, afraid if he spoke any louder, he’d shout, and the whole cast and crew would hear him. They already had enough reasons to be pissed at him.
“Good boy.”
Devon yanked Nicky out the auditorium, through the lobby, into the street. Hailing a cab in the Theater District was an art form, but people stopped for Devon Turner. Heck, some people even stopped for Nicky.
A car pulled over in seconds and Devon opened the door, dragged Nicky inside after him. “Manhattan Plaza, please,” Devon said to the driver as he fastened his seatbelt, never releasing his punishing hold on Nicky’s wrist.
Nicky didn’t bother wondering how Devon knew where he lived.
As the taxi merged into traffic, Devon leaned close and brushed his lips against Nicky’s ear. “I’m going to fuck you so raw your eyes will water every time you sit.” The words were harsh but the tone was a purr, a promise so hot Nicky’s breath caught. “Would you like that?”
No breath, no words. Nicky nodded instead.
“I’m going to make you scream. Not my name—just scream. Would you like that, too?”
Another breathless nod. He felt Devon’s lips curl into a smile against his earlobe, teeth latching on as Devon’s thumb, in perfect mirror, bit deep into Nicky’s wrist.
By the time they reached his apartment, Nicky was sweating and a little nauseous. The cab ride had been like every Manhattan cab ride, all sudden starts and stops and swerves and the vague stench of the thousands of asses that had warmed the backseat before him.
Devon’s grip hadn’t let up for a second, and the pain of that pressing thumb was deep, unrelenting, expanding with every passing moment until Nicky could think of nothing else—nothing but Devon, the power of the man, the power Nicky had granted him and just how, exactly, he planned to use it.

Okay... Your favorite time.... Giveaway Time!!!!

This will be the rule for all Giveaways this week...

All Giveaways will end Friday, November 18th at Midnight....

The winners will all be picked and announced....

Monday, November 21st!

Good luck!

Now time for Rachel's Giveaway!

Rachel has so kindly let me give away anything from her backlist... 

Except Crescendo. Not sure why!

What do I want from you.....

Well, you have to leave your email address ~ A MUST.

You have to be a follower of this blog ~ A MUST.

You must leave a comment or question for Rachel ~ A MUST!

Good Luck!

Master Class can be purchased at Riptide: http://www.riptidepublishing.com/titles/master-class-master-class-1



To find me across the web, you can visit:
Email address: metarachel@gmail.com
Website URL: rachelhaimowitz.com
Blog URL: Rachel-haimowitz.blogspot.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/RachelHaimowitz
Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/rachel.haimowitz
Goodreads Page: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/4110966-rachel-haimowitz  

The Giveaway for Riptide: 

From October 1 to December 31, Riptde authors and editors will set sail on a massive

Grand Opening blog tour! 

We're gearing up for three months of games, prizes, interviews, chats, and scavenger hunts, and we'd love to have you along! At each stop along the tour, we'll be giving away great prizes - tons of books from our authors' backlists, swag by the boatload, gift ceritficates to All Romance Ebooks, and entries into the Grand Prize drawings for a Nook, a Kindle, and an iPad.

Go check it out!!!

And remember... Keep it Dirty, Smutty & Hussy!