Kayleigh Sky

Please welcome Kayleigh Sky with a very interesting article about gender that is definitely worth a read.



Writing M/M romance/fiction can be a minefield when it comes to expectations and prejudices. That being the case, writing with a pseudonym (which I do) can surround you in a cozy, protective bubble in some ways. At least in your daily life you don’t have to deal with comments like – “That’s weird.” Or “That’s porn, right?” Or “Are you gay?” Or the ever popular “That’s interesting.” Which is code for—“You’re a freak, and I’m never talking to you again.”

Some people question the legitimacy of women writing in the M/M romance/fiction category. Others claim that it primarily is a woman’s category. Both writers and readers appear to be predominantly female. I haven’t done any real research into it; it comes up in posts I read here and there, and I don’t want to ruffle any feathers, because this isn’t what this post is about. It’s about labels and social constructs that might as well be made out of bars.

And this is one place where the labels and constructs come in.

Let me start by saying – labels suck. They don’t define as much as confine. Although I happily accept the label of writer!  I think I was born one. Or at least I was born a storyteller. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t view my world through the lens of a story. Make-believe was more vivid and touched a truer place in me than reality ever has. Yet it was also my sign that I ought to hide a few things.

One—I have never identified as entirely—or only—female.

Two—The darkness in me is quite dark—though to me it has always been redeemed by a surprising but welcome hopefulness.

Hiding these two things was easy. I didn’t beat up boys—I just fantasized about beating them up. Even as a child I felt rather neutral about my sex/gender. I was a girl who didn’t feel particularly girlish despite a girlish appearance. But there were expectations. I recall that my father’s response to whatever life goal I was spouting at the moment was to claim his only wish for me was that I be happy as a woman. Happy. As. A. Woman. Even at eight or nine I was flummoxed. What the fuck? Was that different from the way I was currently happy? Was I doing it wrong? What if I didn’t feel like a woman? Clearly, I was destined for unhappiness.

I was a failure. Utterly unable to grasp the concept of gender-appropriate happiness.

Then I grew up. I wrote stories. Not my stories though. For a while I tried to fit in. Undoubtedly there was something wrong with me. Because, the truth is, I have never felt “happy” writing female protagonists or girl/boy love. Chick lit anyone? Nope. No passion for it. I really couldn’t relate. Let me tell you—I express entirely as female—all the girly stuff. Long hair, braids, jewelry, makeup. Even my tattoos are flowers. I’m comfortable with that. But I’m not that way everywhere at every time. I often have no sense of being male or female. Yet, in that fantasy place where I tell the stories of the guys that appear to me? I’m hella jealous because I really, really wanna be one of those guys!

I guess my label would be bi-gender. Or maybe multi-gender. I don’t know. I don’t want to leave out the androgynous part of me. I score really high on the androgynous scale. And this is why labels suck. The minute I pick one, I angst over all the ones I didn’t pick. Am I sure? Am I stuck with this label? Who I am now isn’t really who I once was. What if I change again?

Here’s the truth—I just am. Daily rebelling against the idea that there is anything qualified or carved-in-stone about my happiness, dreams, ideas, identity, etc.

Stumbling onto M/M fiction one day was a godsend to me. Wham! All the windows and doors of my figurative house blew open. Freedom! Here were others like me. The perfect world. Well, the perfect world in fantasy. The perfect real world wouldn’t give a fuck about labels.

Happiness would be happiness.

I could dress like a girl, drift neutrally through my day, and love a boy with the heart of a boy. So could you. No gender police tasering your ass for stepping out of line. Perfect acceptance of who you are in all your plentiful and changeable ways of being.

My book Pretty Human comes out on February 23rd. (You can preorder it now if you’d like.) In it, the main character, Jem, has his own identity crisis. Primarily, Pretty Human is about forgiveness and redemption, but Jem is thrust into a situation in which he has to battle with his own assumptions about himself and decide at great cost what kind of human being he wants to be. Only he can set himself free. Only we can set ourselves free. We have a universe of possibilities to explore. It’s a bloody shame to label ourselves into smaller and smaller boxes.

I hope you go out and buy Pretty Human, and I hope it makes you feel, and that you’re okay with that. (And I’d really love a review if you liked it. ) I write dark but always end in sunshine. We all deserve a happy ending. And I hope that you find yours.



Pretty Human Story Description:

Seeking absolution for his past in a fiery death, a young space force pilot crashes his ship on a desert planet.

When Ellis Ligoria, King of Xol, witnesses a spaceship hurtling to the planet’s surface, he rushes to the scene of the crash and joins the search party for survivors. As night descends, a strange compulsion leads him to the site of an underground city. Here he rescues a badly injured Jem. During his recovery, it is discovered that Jem is part Xolan. Not only that, but he’s a genetically submissive variation called a Xolani. Ellis has no wish to care for a Xolani but cannot resist his desire for Jem. Taking him under his protection, he brings him home to his family.

Desperately wanting this new life, Jem claims to be a solitary Vagabond, a loner without family or home. A man nobody wants or is looking for. Safe for the first time in his memory, Jem has hopes for a happy future. He is falling in love with Ellis and adores his new family. All he wants is to live a quiet life as Ellis’ consort, but as his secrets sink him deeper and deeper into a prison of lies, he knows that he cannot hide his true identity forever. Marrying Ellis is a dream come true, but he’ll never escape the brutal man he is running from.

Soon called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice, Jem must fight to stop a powerful monster bent on revenge.

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias=digital-text&field-keywords=pretty+human+kayleigh+sky&rh=n%3A133140011,k%3Apretty+human+kayleigh+sky
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/pretty-human-kayleigh-sky/1123268758?ean=9781786513762
Pride Publishing: https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/pretty-human

Contact and Social Media Links:



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The Gazillionaire and the Virgin

Please welcome my guest, the talented Lisabet Sarai.

Sex and Money
By Lisabet Sarai

If you scan the blurbs for recent romance best-sellers, you might come away with the notion that billionaires make the best lovers. Even before FSOG, rich guys were popular fantasy fodder, but the number of obscenely wealthy protagonists has climbed exponentially since. My primary romance publisher, Totally Bound, has a whole series of “billionaire” anthologies – Bound to the Billionaire, Promoted by the Billionaire, Sharing the Billionaire, and so on – and they sell very well. Apparently many readers feel that money is sexy.

I guess I can understand this, at some level. Today’s billionaire plays the same role as the fairytale prince of yesteryear. He can fulfill the heroine’s (or second hero’s) every desire – not just physical desires but material ones. Especially given the worldwide economic downturn, I can see how a hero who could solve your financial problems with a snap of his fingers might be very appealing.

At the same time, I’ve never personally cared whether a lover (or a hero) was wealthy. The whole question seems irrelevant to me (perhaps because I’ve always been able to support myself by my own efforts). The trend seems a bit of throwback to an earlier time when women married mostly for financial security. Furthermore, relationships between a rich individual and someone less financially advantaged are not nearly as easy as some romance novels would have you believe. There are likely to be huge gaps in values and expectations that are bound to take their emotional toll.

I grew up in a middle class environment. I’m a third generation bargain-hunter at Filene’s Basement. (If you don’t know what that is, Google it!) I don’t care what brand of watch I wear, as long as it tells the time. I’d consider spending $500 on a pair of shoes just because they had a designer label to be a ludicrous waste of money. On the other hand, my wealthy brother-in-law, although he’s no billionaire, cares deeply about things like this. They’re part of his self-image. I’m not criticizing him, just highlighting the differences in our perceptions of what is important.

My new romance The Gazillionaire and the Virgin turns the whole money-is-sexy trope on its head. Yes, the book does feature a billionaire—the heroine, Rachel Zelinsky, who is a brilliant Silicon Valley entrepreneur. The hero, Theo Moore, is a professor at a prestigious university, but his impoverished childhood has made him naturally thrifty. He finds Rachel’s ostentatious wealth uninteresting, even offensive. In this book, the billionaire’s bucks are an obstacle to the love relationship. Rachel has to convince Theo that she’s not trying to buy his love, or his cooperation with her business schemes.

Like Theo, I don’t find money to be sexy. I realize I’m probably in the minority.

What do you think?

~ ~ ~





Silicon Valley entrepreneur Rachel Zelinsky is not a woman who lets pleasure interfere with business, but when she meets reclusive genius Theo Moore, she can’t resist his geeky appeal. Though Theo’s knowledge about sex derives from extensive research and a stash of kinky porn rather than real-world experience, he is Rachel’s first true Master—and the first man to truly touch her heart.


Want a taste? Of course you want a taste

On the long cab ride from Greenpoint to the upper West Side, we make out in the back seat like teenagers. Theo’s mouth on mine is hungry and demanding. His hands wander in a slow dance over my breasts and along the curve of my hips, as though he’s caressing me for the first time. He clutches me to his chest, pulls me into his lap, grinds his hardness into my bottom. All the while he continues to steal my breath with his fierce kisses.

I’m on fire. I want his touch on my bare skin, his fingers probing my deepest recesses, but when I try to draw his hand up under my top or between my legs, he slaps mine away. Those slaps only kindle a more ferocious need. By the time we’ve made it back to our suite, I’m practically dissolving, so wet I make squelching sounds when I walk.

Taking my hand, he leads me through the sitting area, with its thirtieth story view of glittering Manhattan, to the palatial bedroom.

“Don’t move,” he orders. “I’m going to undress you.”

He circles behind me to unzip my skirt. The garment slips over my hips to the floor. Next he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my tights and rolls the clingy material down to my ankles. I imagine him using the elastic garment to bind me—it would be well-suited to that task—but he seems intent only on rendering me naked.

“Step out of your shoes. That’s right.” He extricates first one foot and then the other from my hosiery, and tosses the tangled garment away. “Arms over your head,” he commands. In a matter of seconds, my sweater has joined my other clothing on the floor.

He pauses for a moment, apparently to admire me in my state of semi-nudity. My swollen nipples distort the lace of my bra. My sodden panties bunch between my legs. Though I know it’s forbidden, I tense my thighs, seeking some friction to relieve the terrible, pulsing ache between them.

“Be still!” I hope he’ll slap my ass as punishment for my infraction, but there’s only his verbal reprimand.

“Can’t you speed up a bit, Theo?” His fingers brush my back as he unfastens the bra hooks. Electric currents zap my sex. I moan. “I’m desperate for you.”

“That’s good. That’s the way I want you.”



This post is part of my Gazillionaire and Virgin blog tour, running from February 1st to 15th. Leave me a comment on this post, including your email address, and I’ll enter you to win a $50 bookstore gift certificate (first prize) or a print copy of the new book (second prize). Visit all the stops for more chances to win. You’ll find the full list here:


Ebook Buy Links (Print coming soon!)

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

All Romance


Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28766414-the-gazillionaire-and-the-virgin


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rainbow snippets strike again

Six sentences of a work in progress. This time from the story Earning His Leathers that has just been accepted by Pride Publishing as part of a not yet named M/M BDSM anthology.

And yes, I have counted the six sentences. They are actually seven.


The man standing in the room was the almost perfect antithesis to what Connor considered his ideal type. He was well above 6 feet and muscled. He sported a crewcut of black hair. His eyes were dark as the night, his features had the chiselled sharpness of outspoken masculinity with a pronounced nose –that looked like it had been broken and badly mended—and a strong jaw. He looked like a streetfighter looking for a brawl, and Connor had no wish whatsoever to have that man as his teacher in kink. Those hands could cause some serious pain during a playful spanking session.

“Meet Stone Carver.”

Go to Rainbow Snippets Facebook Group for more peeks into the minds of  writers at work.


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Rainbow snippets 19/20 dec

I’m working on Earning His Leathers, a short m/m BDSM story intended for an anthology. If everything goes to plan it should be finished within a week or so. (and don’t worry, this is just a very rough piece of writing, I do have an editor who will make sure the final story will be actually readable)

Here is a six sentence snippet as part of the weekly Rainbow Snippets Facebook group event.

“Even if I start living on cheap bread and peanut butter for a year, then I still wouldn’t be able to buy any of this.” Connor hesitated to continue, because if he was honest, it wasn’t just a matter of money. If he wanted, he could put in more hours of work as a bouncer at the clubs he worked whenever he needed cash. He was happy to live soberly, as long as he had a roof over his head, a bed to sleep in and a table and chair to write on. “Call me old-fashioned, but I believe a man should earn his leathers, especially when it’s about something as unique as this. Because clothes are not all you make, is it?”


This weekend Pride Publishing has a Christmas Sale with 20% off all e-books. Mine can be found here.



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A Weekend Unbound tour winner

Congratulations, Give A Rush, you win the $50 gift card of choice.

Many thanks to all those who read the posts and gave their reactions. It’s been fun.

Now, go and read!


A Weekend Unbound is available at Totally Bound, Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk, All Romance and other fine places.

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Follow the A Weekend Unbound tour and win a $50 gift card

How much can a Dom ask of his submissive? And how much of himself?
For Derek and Tyler, Dominance and submission have been part of their love right from the first hello. But now Derek wants his submissive to go as deep as he is physically and emotionally able to. During two days and two nights, there are no safety words and very few limits. This is their chance to demonstrate their love for one another through the most extreme scenes they’ve ever played.
There is, however, one rule to trump all others for Tyler—to protect Sir’s most loved possession, even if it means disobedience or going against his own need to submit to his Master without question or complaint.
This weekend will open up levels of their relationship they’ve never dreamed of before.

Like the sound of A Weekend Unbound? Buy it here at Totally Bound.


COMPETITION TIME: S. Dora and A. Moore are also running a competition for the chance to win a $50 gift card of choice. If you are interested please comment below with your reaction to this blog along with your email! If you feel more comfortable not commenting here, please email S. directly at authordora@hotmail.com. The winner will be generated by random.org at the end of the tour.

You might want to note the following dates:

13 October: L.M Somerton

13 October: Tori Carson

15 October: Lisabet Sarai

16 October: Morticia Knight

17 October: A Weekend Unbound goes on general sale, including the print edition

17 October: Article about “Intensity” at ARe cafe

18 October: Interview Totally Bound Blog

19 October: Goodreads feature

20 October: GGR Reviews

21 October: MM Good Book Reviews

22 October: Prism Book Alliance

23 October: Love Bytes

Like the sound of A Weekend Unbound? Buy it here at Totally Bound.


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A Weekend Unbound early download available

How much can a Dom ask of his submissive? And how much of himself?

For Derek and Tyler, Dominance and submission have been part of their love right from the first hello. But now Derek wants his submissive to go as deep as he is physically and emotionally able to. During two days and two nights, there are no safety words and very few limits. This is their chance to demonstrate their love for one another through the most extreme scenes they’ve ever played.

There is, however, one rule to trump all others for Tyler—to protect Sir’s most loved possession, even if it means disobedience or going against his own need to submit to his Master without question or complaint.

This weekend will open up levels of their relationship they’ve never dreamed of before.


A Weekend Unbound by S.Dora and A.Moore is now available for early download or pre-order as print edition at Totally Bound.

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Morticia Knight’s Play Acting

Welcome, Morticia Knight!


Thanks for having me here today and letting me share this final installment in the Gin & Jazz series. I have an exclusive excerpt to share with you as well. The books all take place during the Roaring Twenties and feature the exploits of several men who trudge their way through the pitfalls and decadence of Hollywood. This one can be read as a standalone as it tells the complete love story of two men from the series who haven’t been able to find their HEA yet. Poor guys…

Former screen idol, Roman Pasquale, struggles to survive in Hollywood as the silent film era comes to a close. But a fresh new playwright is in town and he wants Roman to be more than just his star.
The past few years haven’t been kind to fading film star, Roman Pasquale. But then again, he was never very kind to anyone else either. He’s had time to reminisce on his mistakes and to accept responsibility for how he hurt others. Now that Global Studios has turned its back on him, he’s had to sell his grand estate and start over in a modest apartment.
His former co-star, actress Maude Simons, suggests that he meet with new playwright, Max Vogel. Not only will he get the chance to be the star again, Roman can really use the money. What he doesn’t expect is how strongly he’s attracted to the easygoing, confident young man—and the very wicked thoughts he has about him.
Playwright and director, Max Vogel, is delighted that the great Roman Pasquale has agreed to star in his play. What he is unprepared for however, is the intense physical spark that ignites the moment they meet. He’s been warned of Roman’s reputation for being difficult to work with, but he’s willing to take the risk—even though his career depends on the success of this one play.
Max needs to coax a heartfelt performance out of Roman, and Roman needs to live up to his resolve to be a better man. But maybe the real issue is whether or not the director and actor can resist the passion they have for one another, a lust so strong that it catches them unaware. Is their lust really love? Or will the drive for success destroy any hope for a happily-ever-after?



Exclusive Excerpt from Play Acting (Gin & Jazz 7)
“Excuse me, Roman. Um, I was wondering…”
He lifted his eyes to meet Max’s. Roman occupied one of the theater chairs and Max indicated to one of the seats next to him.
“May I?”
“Of course, my dear Max. It’s not necessary for you to ask.”
A tentative smile pulled at the corners of Max’s lips and Roman could sense his director’s nervousness.
“Thank you.” Max lowered himself gingerly. “So, how are you feeling about the way things are proceeding so far? I realize we’ve barely delved into anything other than discussing my methodology, logistics of rehearsals and such, but are there any questions or concerns I can help you with?”
No director had ever spoken to him in such a way, with so much sincerity and thoughtfulness. It filled him with warmth.
“You’ve been very kind to me Max, helping to ease my way into these uncertain waters. I’m very taken by your story, the character of Alistair.” Roman paused, already scared of how revealing he would have to be to properly portray his part. “I know it will be a challenge, but I will do my very best.”
“I know you will, Roman.” Max fidgeted in the seat, his hands clasped together tightly. “Would you perhaps, unless of course you have other plans…” He chuckled, dropping his gaze before raising it again. “Never mind, I’ll see you at one o’clock.”
Right as Max placed his hands on the arm rests to push himself up, Roman blurted out without thinking.
“Would you care to join me for lunch?”
Max eased back into the chair, a bit of a stunned expression on his face. He appeared to be struggling with a response. “Really?” He flushed. “I mean, yes, that would be wonderful. Where did you have in mind?”
“This can be yet another way in which you can guide me, my dear Max. I’m afraid that I am unfamiliar with this area. Where would you suggest?”
“The only more elegant place I’ve ever gone to is Taix. Truthfully, I’m more of a diner sort of fellow, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be seen with me in such a place.”
A wave of shame passed over Roman. He saw himself once again through the harsh filter of his previous demand for excess. It was likely that by shielding himself from what he’d considered the common folk he had missed out on many opportunities to have someone as delightful as Max in his life.
“I would be seen with you anywhere, Max.”
It had come out in perhaps too tender of a manner, but it was the truth. And that was all he’d heard all morning from Max—that they had to be true to themselves as both performers and human beings.
There was a clear blush upon Max’s cheeks and a tinge of wonder in his eyes. Roman found himself filled with the urge to pull Max into his arms, to kiss him unreservedly, to revel in the utter bliss he was certain would be his reward.
“Oh, um, in that case, may I suggest the Pig ‘N Whistle?”
Roman arched his eyebrows in amusement. The typically sarcastic retort he could have crafted in the face of such an oddly named eatery didn’t appear. He was loath to say anything that might hurt Max’s feelings.
“Is that where you would like to go?”
Max shrugged, laughing easily, the original confidence Roman had encountered when they’d met returning to his demeanor.
“It’s actually quite good. It’s not too far away, it’s over by the Egyptian movie house.”
There was a moment where Roman felt a bit of nausea, but he pushed it aside. He lived and worked in Hollywood. Almost everything would remind him of past glories in one way or the next. Just because he would never attend another film premiere as the adored star of a top motion picture, didn’t mean he couldn’t have lunch at a diner next door. Especially as the company he would be sharing was worth any sacrifice he might have to make. The suddenness of the stray thought affected him on a deeper level, but he didn’t have time to contemplate it right then. Max was waiting for an answer.
“Well then, I think we should go there. I did promise to trust you, did I not?”
Max treated him to a lovely smile. The idea that Roman could restrain himself from doing everything within his power to get closer to the wonderful director seemed ridiculously impossible. However, his desire to protect Max from him was just as strong.
He already knew from his experience working with André that there would be a lot of intense soul-searching involved in using The Method. Reading the subject matter of Max’s play had reinforced that perception. Perhaps he could use the well of conflicting emotions that roiled within him to distract himself from giving into the feelings he had for Max. The glorious, magical ones that he’d thought were lost to him forever.
To Roman, Max was precious and talented beyond words and didn’t need a fading, temperamental film star to interfere in his life. What the young man deserved was Roman’s respect and whatever talent that Max believed he could squeeze out of him. Roman could admire him from afar, fantasize in private—even flirt a little. But he couldn’t allow Max to be harmed in any way by Roman’s unpredictability. At least not until he was certain he had really changed and wouldn’t hurt his sweet Max. And after the play was over.
Available at Totally Bound: https://www.totallybound.com/play-acting
All Romance Ebooks:
You can find Morticia lurking about at these places:
Twitter: @morticiaknight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/morticia.knight



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Praise for Calling the Shots

Praise for Calling the Shots.

Lucky for Mrs Condit & friends read books about Facing the Truth: “This isn’t a story about an established Dom/sub relationship. This is two men who love each other and want to add a new angle to their lives. It works on so many levels. To see them building toward something together is sweet and awkward and so fulfilling.”  (full review)

Lucky for Mrs Condit & friends read books about The Right Direction:  ” Isaac is a good Sir, wanting his sub to explore the future they have plotted together, and I’m along for the ride every step of the way.” (full review)

Seeker for MM Good Books Reviews for Becoming Sir: “I applaud the writing style of S. Dora and the realism of the characters.” (full review)

facingthetruth_800 therightdirection_2_800 becomingsir_800

Calling the Shots is available at Totally Bound (and it might be nice to know that all their e-books have a 10% discount today)



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Guest N.R.Walker

Please welcome fellow author N.R.Walker who has something truly worthwhile to say about characters with disabilities. Warmly recommended!

Thanks for S. Dora for having me on her blog today!
While I’m here, I thought I’d talk about characters with disabilities or impairments. In my new Turning Point series, we have Sal, who is deaf. He’s the father of my main character’s love interest, Kira. Sal, a huge silent man is balanced perfectly by his tiny wife, who talks a mile a minute.
Sal plays an integral part in the series. He is critical to the development of the story, and as a character he gives fatherly warmth to my main character Matt, who has never known such paternal love.
Sal was born deaf and his family take his deafness in stride. In fact, they quite often sign funny things about someone when that someone isn’t looking.
So, without giving too much of a spoiler, in Breaking Point, the newest instalment in the Turning Point series, Matt has to learn to live with a permanent impairment; a direct result of action versus consequence.
And the question was asked, “How will you fix him?”
My answer was a very adamant, “I won’t be fixing him.”
A conversation followed that basically had me explain that this character needed a consequence for his actions, and he got one. In this case, it was a permanent physical consequence.
I also don’t want to “fix” him. The character, Matt, wouldn’t want to be fixed. He wouldn’t want to send a message to Sal, a father-like figure, that given the opportunity he would choose not to be like him.
In other books, I’ve written a series about a blind main character and even had one reviewer say the character was “too blind.” I mean, really? Do readers not like having less-than perfect main characters? Maybe. I guess that’s a general question with a thousand varied answers. Well, I’m of the opinion that characters with disabilities and impairments are still perfect.
A fight for what’s right becomes a fight for his life.
As guilt plagues him, Matthew Elliott’s world begins to spiral out of control. The harder he holds on, the more it slips through his fingers, and he’s helpless to stop it.

Entering into the underground cage-fighting scene, he starts out fighting for what’s right. The deeper he gets, the more guilt consumes him—the more pain he takes for his penance—and he’s soon fighting for more than justice.

He’s fighting for love.
He’s fighting for his life.

My phone beeped thirty long, torturous seconds later. On my way home. Won’t be long.
Fifteen minutes later he came in through the front door, walked through the lightless house, to find me in the kitchen.
“Matt?” he asked cautiously. “What are you doing in the dark?”
I exhaled at the sound of his voice. “I was worried…”
He walked closer, but kept a very cold four feet between us. “What were you worried about?”
“That something had happened to you,” I admitted quietly. “That you were too mad at me to come home.”
“Matt,” he said then let out a shaky breath. “I went and saw Mitch.”
My head shot up to look at him. “You what?”
He nodded. “I asked one of the guys at work if they’d seen him at the office, and they said yes. So I called him and asked if I could see him.”
I didn’t know where he was going with this. “And?”
“I told him I’m worried about you,” he whispered. “I told him about your fight last night, that I think something changed for you, somewhere along the way, something changed.”
My heart was hammering and it was getting harder to breathe. “I’m fine.”
“No,” he said quietly. Adamantly. “No, you’re not.”
“If this is about what Arizona said about the fight last night…”
“Partly, it is, yes. But something’s gotten into you, Matt.”
I shook my head and said the only thing I could think of to say. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Remember when you said to me,” I said, my words were a rush. “Remember at the cabin when we stayed there for the week, you said if I were to leave you it was all for nothing. Remember? You said that?”
Kira nodded. “Yes.” But then shook his head, confused.
“Well, if you were to leave me, this would all be for nothing.” Fuck, I wasn’t making any sense.
“Is that what this is about?” he asked. His voice croaked when he spoke. “Is this about what happened to me with Tomic?”
A thousand times yes.
Another lie.
My head started to spin. I think I swayed.
Then Kira had hold of me. His strong arms were around me. His warmth, his smell, was everything I needed, and everything I didn’t deserve.
“Matt, you’re not okay.”
“I’m really tired,” I told him.
“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”
“I can handle it.”
“It’s pretty obvious you can’t, babe,” he said softly. “You need a break.”
Not liking where he was going with the whole break thing, I sighed and tightened my hold on him. “What did Mitch say?”
“He said there wasn’t much he could do now, in any official capacity, but just that he’ll keep an eye on you,” Kira said. “Actually his words were ‘Tell Elliott from me not to pull any shit like that again because I’ll be watching’.”
Kira pulled back and gently ran his fingers over my swollen eyebrow. “I think he was just trying to make me feel better,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or make you worry.”
“Nothing really changed for me,” I told him, answering something he’d said just before. “I mean, leaving Mitch and the guys was harder than I thought, I’ll admit that. But I’m trying to get my head around it.” Even the half-truths were lies. “But I don’t want to hurt you, Kira. It’s the very last thing I meant to happen.”
“It’s okay, babe,” he said, though I could see it really wasn’t. “I thought you’d be mad at me,” he added. “For going to see Mitch behind your back.”
I almost laughed. If he only knew the secrets I was keeping from him. “You did it because you care,” I said quietly. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I do care, of course I care,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
While apologising for things I could admit to, I said, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to sound so panicked on your voicemail earlier. I just woke up and you weren’t here and I thought you might have been too mad at me to come home.”
He smiled sadly and kissed the not-sore side of my mouth. “How about I make you some dinner?”
I sighed at his endless supply of love. “You’re always so good to me.”
“Yes, I am. Now what do you feel like for dinner?” he asked. “I can do stir-fry, steamed fish or poached chicken. They’re all quick and easy.”
“Grilled cheese.”
“Grilled cheese?”
I nodded. “You asked what I felt like to eat, and I feel like grilled cheese on toast.”
Kira chuckled, and it was a sound I hadn’t heard in far too long. He kissed the not-bruised side of my head. “Grilled cheese it is.”
I sat at the kitchen bench while he made us dinner of grilled cheese on toast and talked about his day. I pretended my eye, head and ribs didn’t hurt, that I wasn’t lying to him, that I didn’t feel guilty, just so I could see him smile.


Who am I?
Good question…
I am many things; a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer.
I have pretty, pretty boys who live in my head, who don’t let me sleep at night unless I give them life with words.
I like it when they do dirty, dirty things…but I like it even more when they fall in love.
I used to think having people in my head talking to me was weird, until one day I happened across other writers who told me it was normal.
I’ve been writing ever since…

Email – nrwalker2103@gmail.com
Facebook – N.r. Walker
Facebook fan page – N.R.WalkerAuthor
Twitter – @NR_Walker
Goodreads – N.R. Walker
Blog: http://nrwalker.wordpress.com/

A full list of all participating stops in this blog tour!
Morticia Knight – http://morticiaknight.blogspot.com.au/
Lisabet Sarai – http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com.au/
S. Dora – https://sdora.wordpress.com/
West Thornhill – http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com.au/
Ashe Barker – http://ashebarker.com/
HK Carlton – http://pickagenrealready.blogspot.ca/
Nancy Adams – http://fancynancyadams.wix.com/erotic-nancy-adams
C.A. Szarek – http://www.caszarekwriter.blogspot.co.uk/?m=1
Desiree Holt – http://www.desireeholt.com/

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