Literotica Authors and Their Books (For Literotica Authors ONLY)

stlgoddessfreya said:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00Y1ZDLO2

The Hot Summer Reads Anthology is ten stories by ten different authors who all post stories at Literotica, with something for everyone, no matter what you like in erotic romance stories. You may even find something new. These stories are:

100% original, never before published stories
all eleven stories are 8k-10k words long
by four female authors and seven male authors
by authors who identify as straight and gay, bisexual, or queer
by authors aged early-thirties to mid-sixties
mostly romantic but also features historical, sci-fi, and erotic horror stories
inclusive of straight, gay, and lesbian couple scenes and menage scenes
not a collection of first chapters and cliffhangers

What’s the best thing about the Anthology? It’s free all Memorial Day Weekend!

Author: J. Kendall Dane, Bucky Duckman, Freya Lange, Patient Lee, Shea Mara, TT Tales, M.S. Tarot, Ella Wilding, J.C. Winchester, Steve Williams

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Congrats. I'm glad it's doing well in the marketplace.

Boruma Publishing

Does anybody make any money from these guys. I have started sending them anthologies of short stories and some novellas. I don't expect to get rich, but I do hope to make enough to be worth my while.

Boxlicker101 said:

Does anybody make any money from these guys. I have started sending them anthologies of short stories and some novellas. I don't expect to get rich, but I do hope to make enough to be worth my while.

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Isn't the AH a better place to ask this question than here? I've never heard of them.

Launched on 26 June 2015 at Amazon, Smashwords, B&N, and other erotica distributors by BarbarianSpy, a pansexual anthology, Every Which Way, by habu (a pen name of sr71plt).


BLURB:

Pansexuals are people for whom sex is sex is sex, regardless of the gender of the “other(s),” and pansexuals have been described as those who don’t care whose pants they’ll put their hand down.

This wide-open state of sexual arousal isn’t as well served in stories as other persuasions are. In this anthology habu provides us with seven “every which way” stories that explore this wide-ranging genre.

“B-6 Cowboy Special” takes a bisexual-service rent-boy to a wedding party striptease job never to be forgotten. On a more serious note, “Fissure in the Rock” shows how bisexuality can pulverize a marriage—that it’s not always a happy romp in the bed. In “Purloined Tryst,” a planned Halloween swinger party tryst goes pleasantly awry, while “Retreat Treat” uses art to reveal an “every which way” experience. “Shimmering Guilt” reflects the culmination of years and years of fear of a pansexual nature being exposed. “The Yellow Cadillac” and the “White Bandana Club” are both freewheeling romps in a rocker world and an inventive service club, respectively.

As habu reveals, such a gender “who cares?” approach to one’s sexuality can be liberating or guilt-ridden or just plain good, arousing fun—or any combinations of these. Whatever the mood, pansexuality can serve up interesting stories with inventive twists for the reader looking for something freewheeling and open-minded. We hope you will enjoy these and look for habu’s next anthology in this genre.


TAGS:

art, artists retreat, bisexual, bisexual / pansexual, bisexual/pansexual, cars, cocksucking, crossdressing, drugs, erotica, erotica anthology, erotica bisexual / pansexual, erotica gay, erotica lesbian, erotica multicultural / interracial, erotica multiple partners, erotica short stories, female/female, ff, gang bang, gay male, habu, hotel rooms, interracial, lesbian, male/male, male/male sexual practices, misunderstandings, mm, mmf, multicultural/interracial, multiple partners, multiple partners erotica, pansexual, parties, short stories, wedding parties


EXCERPT:

From “The Yellow Cadillac”:

I think I had been slipped a Mickey of some sort, because it wasn’t long before I got groggy and my connection with all that was going on around me kept going in and out. I started to disappear, while the brunette appeared wrapped up in whatever conversation I could muster to avoid telling her I was here because her colleague had had me for a snack a few days earlier. She must have fancied me herself, because after my first blackout, I found her on my sofa, sticking her tongue in my ear and playing with my chest and belly. My shirt had disappeared somewhere. I didn’t stay aware long, and the next time I put in an appearance, the brunette was still there, toying with me, but my rocker friend was now on the other side of me.

My pants were down around my ankles, and the rocker and brunette were kissing each other across my body and each of them had a hand on my hardened cock. Surprisingly enough, the room still seemed to be full of boisterous people. Next I was aware; the brunette was sitting astride my lap with my cock up her cunt. Her skirt still flowed around us, but her big tits were flapping against my chest and her long hair was whipping my face. The music, which had a good beat, was louder than the crowd now, and, good musician that she was, she was keeping great time with the beat in her bucking in my lap. As far as I remembered, the rocker was puffing a weed and playing with both the brunette’s tits and my nipples as they bounced against each other.

sr71plt said:

Isn't the AH a better place to ask this question than here? I've never heard of them.

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This is the AH. More specifically, it's a place in the AH where authors ask questions regarding books and stories they have written and the possibility of selling them.

Boxlicker101 said:

This is the AH. More specifically, it's a place in the AH where authors ask questions regarding books and stories they have written and the possibility of selling them.

Click to expand...

You haven't gotten any responses to your question here, have you?--other than from me, who came here to post to the thread that explicitly says it's for announcing Lit. authors' published books--not to ask questions like you have. You can be hardheaded about that if you like (look at the explanation for what this thread is for), but it means you are tossing your question into the void. Fine with me.

BJ Bliss: An Oral Enterprise

Our first ebook is available on Amazon and Smashwords.

BJ Bliss, originally a 10-part series on literotica.com, has been revised and consolidated into a novel. A novel about blowjobs.

Synopsis:
Katrin and Malena came up with a truly seedy business idea—blowjob instruction using live male models for practice. While roomfuls of female clients are happy to indulge in this unique blowjob party experience, the women of BJ Bliss find themselves in one sticky situation after another as a fierce competitor and the authorities try to overthrow their hold on the blowjob instruction industry.

Tags:
blowjobs, facials, swallowing, cum swapping, deepthroat, threesome, reverse gangbang, gangbang, anal, double penetration, creampie, fisting, cfnm, lingerie, lesbian, femdom, bondage...romance?

You, our Lit friends, can download from Smashwords for free (until July 26th) with coupon code: AP24E

Launched on 30 June 2015 by BarbarianSpy, a GM romance short, Rain Check, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt.

This short will be available for free download at the ARE Cafe on 2 July.


BLURB:

Arousing, yet dangerous-looking, black, tattooed hunk Gabe approaches young, white Parker in a southern beach town hardware store where Parker works in the paint department. Gabe has recently bought an old beach house in the small, wealthy—and pretty much segregated—beach town and professes to want advice on what colors to paint his house and asks Parker to make a house call to help him. Parker is torn, being both aroused by and disturbed by the dangerous-looking Gabe.

When Gabe reveals he’s seen Parker dancing a pole at a local gay bar the previous Saturday and is interested in more than just a paint consultation, Parker is put into a quandary on how to respond.

Intermittent rain showers and a series of misunderstandings only makes Parker’s decision all the harder to make.


TAGS:

beach, beach house, big cocks, gay love, hardware store, interracial, misunderstandings, older-younger, paint, pole dancing, rain, romance, tattoos


EXCERPT:

Parker saw him walk into the hardware store again and work his way around the outer aisle. Parker was helping a customer pick out paint and wondered if the good-looking man would work his way over to Parker’s station, being attracted to Parker, or if this was the hardware store he had always come to and Parker just hadn’t noticed him before his visit the other day. Parker regretted that the stimulating exchange had gone south the last time Gabe had been in the store.

Gabe. That’s right, Parker thought. The man had told him his name was Gabriel, but that he preferred being called Gabe. He was all the things that Parker found arousingly attractive in a man, and a couple of things Parker found scarily attractive too. He was older. Parker was twenty-five, but he’d always gone with an older man. He liked to be daddied. The man wasn’t exactly old, though. Maybe in his thirties. And he was good looking and built strong. He’d shown Parker a nice, easy smile when they’d talked before and the man had had an easy way of moving in to show interest in Parker—if, indeed, that was what he’d done. Under the circumstances Parker was a bit confused and more than a bit afraid.

The scary attractions were that Gabriel—if that’s what his name really was—was black and he had a colored right sleeve tattoo that peeked out below the sleeve line of the polo shirt he had been wearing. A black sex partner and one with extensive tattooing were both worlds beyond anywhere Parker had ever gone.

No Denying Sin

Living in the Big Easy is downright deadly especially if you’re a stripper. When another exotic dancer is found dead in her apartment, the heat mounts on Frankie and his fellow detectives to find the killer. Due to the magnitude of this unsolved mystery along with the LaBoy murders, tension runs high at nineteen making it hard for all to breathe around the police station and sending everyone into a frenzy.

There’s no denying Frankie’s love for Kajika but in the back of his mind, hot thoughts of the mutual jerk off with Orrin Daugherty loom over his head. Though the feelings are mutual, Orrin wants nothing to do with this and pushes Frankie away. Add in to the mix his fascination with partner Vance Morain along with his severe case of blue balls and you got one hell of a predicament for these for complex and volatile men.

The men at nineteen are burning with desire for one another and pleasure is beginning to be almost as important as business.

Will the sinful disruptions stop them from finding the killer roaming the streets of the Big Easy?

WARNING: Lots of lewd dialogue and smoldering sex between males.

Available through Kindle Unlimited NDS http://www.amazon.com/Denying-Sin-Nawlins-Exotica-Book-ebook/dp/B00QR3DZJW/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Mon Trois M/M Taboo TWINCEST

One final test for Ryland Durand…

Ryland Durand has slayed his vampire father Gren’s killer, overcome his own fears of being in the public eye, and currently seeks to further his writing career by putting his work in print. Now however, he faces yet another challenge; convincing Dale Mooney and Ryder to be his eternal lovers.

Ryder has been at his right hand since day one, but feels Dale Mooney is infringing on their close relationship spanning over three centuries. Ryder asks for Valios’ assistance to get Dale Mooney out of the picture permanently, but fails.

Dale cannot deny he’d prefer to be alone with Ryland, but is willing to go along with the idea. He feels less important to Ryland and wishes for him to clarify his place in the union.

Due to Ryder’s attempt on Dale’s life, Ryland decides to leave for an extended vacation so Dale and Ryder could figure things out on their own. Ryder’s jealousy over Ryland nearly backfires, causing Dale to make a life threatening choice.

Will the three of them overcome these huge hurdles or will jealousy permanently destroy their eternal union?

Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/553008

Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Mon-Trois-Mic...UTF8&qid=1436033423&sr=1-1&keywords=mon+trois

Wounded Hearts - Wounded Book 1

Zane Ashford’s stint in the NYPD comes to an abrupt halt when he is injured in the line of duty. After waking up partially blind in one eye, all he wants to do is crawl into a hole, but his friends and family won’t leave him alone. Reluctantly, he lets his best friend talk him into time away on a ranch in Montana. But the moment he gets there and meets Cyrus Abrams, Zane begins to contemplate murder.

Cyrus Abrams is vulgar, ornery, stuck in his ways, and not about to change for anyone, no matter how good Zane Ashford looks in those jeans. The more they lock horns, the more Cyrus begins to see Zane in a whole new light. But Cyrus has a past, one that left him in big trouble and more broken than he cares to admit—a past no one told Zane about. Cyrus fears that when Zane finds out, everything will come to a screeching halt.

Available for Pre-order on the DSP Website

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6652

Released by BarbarianSpy on 18 July 2015, a GM anthology inspired by the ancient Japanese male pillow art, Shunga, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt.


BLURB:

The Japanese woodblock erotic pillow book art, known as Shunga, dates back to the fourteenth century.

The art and its homoerotic depictions, less well known than its more conventional heterosexual ones, are treated in short story form here by habu. These four stories move from ancient days, with “Bitten Peach,”—the term for young men who have lost their virginity to other men—into the current world re-creation of the art form in film, with “Shunga World” and “Shunga Silence,” and on to “Enticingly Unnaked’s” Shunga-like clothed sex fetish.


TAGS:

acting, bondage, chinese theatre, crossdressing, fetish, film, first time, gay anal, gay chinese, gay japanese, historical, homoerotic art, japanese art, kidnapping, olderyounger, south east asian, theater, transvestite


EXCERPT:

From “Bitten Peach”

As woozy as Jang was from the potion he had been given, one that made him feel loose through his body, Jang fought hard to maintain his role. The acrobat was starting his melodious recitation of the story of the scroll that now was unrolling from one side and being rolled back up from the other side immediately in front of Jang’s eyes, and he immediately went into shock. The acrobat had an arm around Jang’s waist on the side from which the chronology of the scroll was appearing. This was all according to the play. Jang was playing the female role. He was supposed to be emotional and to begin to tremble and give little gasps.

That Jang didn’t really have to act this out but had had it drilled into him so deeply that he was naturally living the role he was trained to didn’t prevent him being shocked by what he was being forced to see.

It wasn’t just the story of one family’s tragedies. It wasn’t a Chinese scroll at all. It was a scroll of a Japanese art Jang had only heard about in passing, behind twittering fingers, spoken in the dark of night and only between young friends who were taking risks and practicing coming of age far earlier than custom dictated. These were Shunga images, the pillow images of the Japanese underworld. And not just any Shunga images. These were images of men in exotic sex positions with each other.

Jang felt like he might swoon. Which was very interesting, because this was exactly where he was supposed to half swoon in the play script. He was also supposed to let out a little moan, which he did on cue.

And then on cue, the younger, dark actor set the scroll down on the table and lifted Jang onto his lap. He enfolded Jang inside his arms, picked up the scroll, and began to roll through the increasingly suggestive images again. The images of the sexual positions were becoming more and more explicit. Less and less clothing was in view. The sexual act was progressing further, the takers in the images becoming bolder, more insistent.

Jang groaned and looked away from the scroll, just as he was trained to do at this point. And the acrobat encasing him lifted a hand, took hold of Jang’s chin, and forced his eyes back on the scroll. The scroll had reached a point where a smaller man, completely naked, was being held to the front of a larger, heavily muscled, fully tattooed man’s middle, as the larger man paraded around in a circle. Jang could see what was transpiring, as a half-buried phallus of the larger man could be seen up the hole of the younger one.

Jang gasped, just as he was supposed to at this point. His gasp was involuntary, though, because he suddenly could feel the strength of the other actor’s manhood beneath him through the one layer of brocade he wore. This wasn’t in the script, but the partial faint that followed it was. And, as in the script, Jang came around shortly with the strong scent of a reviving potion under his nose, being held by the acrobat. The actor’s other hand, however, had entered the folds of Jang’s kimono and found and encircled his member.

Warrior One - Fleet Action II A work by my alter ego is now available at Smashword and the Kindle Store.

In this installment the Admiral of Fleet One takes command of a newly deployed destroyer fleet. The fleet takes the fight to the Gar. Near, far the newly formed fleet hit the Gar hard.

Excerpt

The screens were lit up with the blips of enemy ships in the system. The outpost was on the second planet. It was a huge planet. Yet the sensors said the gravity was only half of Earth normal. No iron core. Milford watched the blips on the screen. None were maneuvering as of yet. About now their sensors have started to report the fleets presence. And there they go. Every ship in the system started to move.

"Those four ship moving away from us, hit them with four torpedoes each," Milford said to Donal, just in front of him.

"All ready targeted Admiral."

"Good."

He watched the torpedo tracks on the screen. Dashes really. The torpedoes dropped in and out of hyperspace on their way to a target. Milford sat back and watched the plan develop, only occasionally making slight changes. Each time Donal had anticipated him when it came to the Doog.

Four destroyers broke formation and headed to the planet. Right on schedule. Six Gar ships, smaller than the destroyers, broke off their attack to give chase.

"Abigeál, break off and protect the destroyers going down to the planet," Milford said on his private communications line.

"Aye, aye sir," came Abigeál's response.

On the screen, Milford watch as the Altan quickly moved to follow the two groups headed to the planet. The Admiral could see the plasma bolts reach out from Altan and touch the small Gar craft. Nothing visible happed, but Milford knew the crews of those ships were be knocked about from the impact.

Then four Gar ships went dark and the other two disappeared. Torpedoes had caught up with them. His ships were fighting magnificently. Gar ships were going dark, exploding or just disappearing into hyperspace.

"Sensors, fifteen more Gar ships just appeared behind us," the sensor crewman called out.

"Doog, Éidin and Nóe, turn and fire. Destroyers to clean up what's left in front of us, then join us."

Three aye, ayes came over the comms. On the screen, the three ships turned, still heading in system and faced the enemy behind them. Fire streaked between the two sets of ships. The Doog started to shake from the impact of the Gar plasma cannon and missiles. The shields shook off the attack.

On the display up front, the tracks of the torpedoes made straight for the fifteen Gar ships. All the torpedoes converged on their target at the same exact moment. Fifteen ships either went dark or disappeared.

"All ships turn back to the fight..."

"Sensors, another ten ships just appeared on the same vector as the last fifteen."

"Belay that...eliminate those ships." Milford wondered where all these Gar ships were coming from.

"Nóra, Lonán, I want you to jump one AU back the way we came and find those ships."

"Aye, aye." Echoed from his left speaker.

The two ships disappeared from the display, only to reappear one AU out from the system. Suddenly, fifty Gar ships appeared on the screen close to the two ships.

"Fáelán, Rónán, Tór, jump to assist Nóra and Lonán. Éidin, follow in twenty seconds."

"Aye, aye." Came from Milford's speakers. Three ships disappeared only to reappear alongside the destroyers. Then the Éidin was gone. Milford had just split his forces. In some circles that would be considered an unwise move. But for him it was a strategy that had worked more than once.

Twenty minutes later the ships were back, having destroyed all the Gar hanging out at the rim of the system. The ships still maneuvering in system suddenly jumped into hyperspace. The system was theirs, but they were only passing through. The jump back to Earth came thirty minutes later. Three days and they would be home.

Erotic Fairy Tales: Lesbian In A Red Riding Hood

Red Rose Fleur just wants to hike through the woods and visit her grandmother. However, when a distressed dwarven princess runs into her, she knows this will not be a regular vacation. After a lesbian threesome with a werewolf by the river, she finally arrives at her grandmother's house. Instead of Grandmother, there is the same female werewolf that she met by the river. Where has her beloved grandmother gone, and why would she leave just she gets there? She suspects the new werewolf is up to it, but she is just too lustful to accuse.
This an erotic story intended for mature readers interested in reading about lesbian sex.
Excerpt:
“All the better to rub you with.” Keisha’s fingers moved faster inside Red, and her breaths turned to moans. Pleasure went through her whole body as Keisha’s thumb rubbed her clit. Water dripped from Red’s naked body as she made her way to a towel. Cloth rubbed her body until she was mostly dry, and she wrapped it around her before walking into the hall. Cold air assaulted her skin as she made her way to the room, and she shivered as she went through her saddle bag for clothes. Even colder air hit her body as the towel was ripped off.
“Hey!” Red stood and turned around quickly while Keisha threw the towel to the side. “I’m cold.”
“Then you need to be warm.” Keisha put her arms around Red’s naked body. Stiff material of Keisha’s dress rubbed against Red’s nipples and sent a tingling sensation through her.
“What long arms you have.”
“All the better to hug you with.” Keisha squeezed Red tightly and slowly guided her to the bed. Silk sheets felt amazing on Red’s naked body. She sprawled across the bed with her legs open to invite the werewolf in. Keisha grinned before reaching behind herself to undo her dress. The garment went slack on her body and fell off. No panties or bra hid her nudity.
“What great hotness you have.”
Breasts swayed under Keisha as she crawled onto the bed on all fours. Dark eyes kept contact with Red’s as pink lips lightly kissed between her legs. It was torture as kisses travelled up to her belly button instead of down. “All the better to seduce you with.”
Red inhaled sharply when Keisha’s hand rested on her pussy. Lithe fingers slipped into her aroused sex and stroked her inner walls. “What long fingers you have.”
“All the better to rub you with.”


http://www.barnesandnoble.com/mobil...lexis-j-williams/1122332621?ean=2940151055215

Worth Fighting For

My book "Worth Fighting For" is available from Amazon today.

For UK readers
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B010RSSROU?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

or for those in the US
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B010RSSROU?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Jenny Trenchard is a girl with a secret, a girl on the run. Gordon Menzies is a man with a past that he wants to forget. When life brings them together it is the beginning of a rollercoaster ride that takes them from Newcastle to the highlands of Scotland, and a life neither of them had bargained for.

My second novel, Playing Around, is available on Amazon.

Following hot on the heels of Playing For Keeps comes Playing Around, the second book in the racy Scarlet series.

Rugby fanatic Clare has spent her life focusing on herself and her career.
When the undeniably charismatic Alex Prince sets his sights on her, she’s sure it’s only to add to the number of ever-growing notches on his bedpost and vows to keep herself away, despite her attraction.
Alex has other plans, and when he needs Clare's help in securing a family inheritance, he makes her an offer she can’t refuse. Suddenly, Clare finds herself caught up in more than she can handle.

Clare reassures herself it’s just a business transaction, but sparks fly between them – and wonders, is there more to lose than what’s on just the surface?



The third in the 'Scarlet Series', Playing with Fire, is available on pre-order and will be published on 15th August.

Charlie and Mindy

My Charlie and Mindy tetralogy, which appeared in the Incest/Taboo section of Literotica—29 installments over a two-year period beginning about four years ago—is now available in a single cover from Smashwords, Carnal Pleasures, and other booksellers. Look for The Forbidden Journey, by Charles E. Magness. Further information can be found at my personal website: www.cemagness.com

Launched on 1 August 2015 by BarbarianSpy, a fetish murder mystery, Vanishing Laura, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt.


BLURB:

When sexy urban cowboy charcoal artist Cal du Pont drives into the Delaware ocean resort of Fenwick Island in his vintage Corvette convertible and settles in an ocean-front bungalow, he sets the hearts and libidos of redheaded gift shop owner CeCe Collins and waitress Gail Stanley aflutter. He also sets the teeth of black lesbian policewoman Reba on edge. When a mysterious strawberry blonde arrives in town and seeks out the help of Reba, a murder mystery is afoot set off by the haunting lyrics of the song “Laura.”


TAGS:

anal sex, art, blow jobs, cmnf, interracial, lesbian, mf, mf anal sex, music, mystery, nudes, redhead fetish, revenge, rough sex, stalking


EXCERPT:

Late in the night, it was déjà vu all over again when Cal woke to the strains of music coming, presumably, from the condo building next door. He gently moved Gail’s arm from across his chest and padded into the living room, through the dining area, and to the open sliding-glass doors out onto the beach. The sex had been mostly good for him the second night, but she’d balked this time at the anal. He didn’t like his women to deny him anything he wanted, but he hadn’t demanded it of her. It meant, though, that there would be no third night.

Again, the song was being sung in a low, ethereal voice.

“. . . Those eyes, how familiar they seem . . .” A wave hitting the beach overtook the song, and then, “. . . but she’s only a dream.”
“Laura,” Cal whispered.

This time the shapely, red-haired nude was walking the surf line from the northern, Rehoboth Beach, end of the sand toward the Ocean City, Maryland, beach to the south. Her walk, the shape of her hips, the flare of her buttocks, the flow of the strawberry blonde hair reflecting highlights from the sunrise, the V trim of her curly bush, the tattoo on her breast, the puffiness of her labia. Laura.

“Laura,” he repeated, with vehemence now. He strode to the fireplace in the living area, grabbed up a poker and, naked, slid through the open door and onto the deck.

But, as before, she was gone and the music had stopped. He turned and moved back into the bungalow and over to the fireplace, turning on the track lighting over the fireplace as he did so. He stood there, studying the charcoal drawing of the nude hanging over the fireplace mantel.

At length, a growl rumbled up from his belly, he spat out the name—“Laura”—once more. He had been put on edge, and it made the frustration of Gail denying him what he’d wanted surface. He felt like having anal sex, and, by god, he was going to get anal sex. In anger, gripping the now-forgotten poker hard, he turned and moved back toward the bedroom door.

Launched on 16 August 2015 by BarbarianSpy, the eighth eclectic GM short story anthology, Grab Bag 8, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt:

BLURB:

Habu’s Grab Bag 8, a collection of fifteen standalone short stories habu wrote in the spring and early summer of 2015, is the latest in a series of short story anthologies with eclectic gay male settings and plotlines presented in the order in which they were delivered to habu by his muse. The inspirations for habu stories are as random as are his story themes and settings, but those in the Grab Bag collections usually reflect where habu has traveled and what he observed or read or music he listened to during the writing period.

Thus there are stories here inspired by a trip to Charleston for the Spoleto music and dance festival; to Savannah, always a favorite inspirational trip for habu; and to Richmond. A couple inspired by books habu was reading, a historical one dredging up the provenance of a painting in habu’s den, a few connected with the news headlines, and even one inspired by listening to the soundtrack of an old, favorite movie, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? As always, there’s one from habu’s intelligence work past and a hardboiled promiscuous NYPD detective mystery. One, “Galician Guitar,” is the opening chapter of a nostalgic book on the Galician region of Spain in writing process with habu’s coauthor, Sabb.

Variety and setting are always important in habu’s stories, and, as usual, the settings of these stories span the globe from the United States—mostly the East Coast in this collection—to Italy, Germany, Argentina, an isolated, foreboding desert in Southwest Asia, and Japan. Time periods also vary. Although most of these stories are in current time, one moves to Germany at the end of WWII and one is set in Germany and one in Richmond in the 1920s. And, as always, there are unusual stories that take fresh approaches to men unabashedly taking their pleasure with other men. Habu’s men rarely agonize over their gay lifestyle; they embrace it.

The overarching motivation for a habu story is that it try to be different in some way from ones he has written before, a tall order for a writer who has some 800 short stories published, but a goal we think has been achieved here. As with the previous Grab Bag series, we hope that readers will find stories to entertain, arouse, amuse, and evoke thought in this collection.


TAGS:

anthology, barebacking, bdsm, betrayal, big cocks, cmnm, cocksucking, college, cops, cruising, domination, double penetration, drugs, flip flop, gang bang, gay anal, gay romance, historical, interracial, jail, mind control, modeling, music, mystery, obsession, older-younger, photographs, pillow book, pole dancers, porn books, porn movies, priests, prison, prisoner, rent-boys, rough sex, seduction, sentimental, short story, shunga art, spies, tattoos, threesomes, toys, transvestite


EXCERPT:

From “All That Argentine Jazz”

“Is this seat taken?”

Neal looked up in surprise and involuntarily smiled, initially mistakenly thinking that Professor Ambrose hadn’t left yet after all and had come to the Ferrari Spoleto Festival concert just to be with him. Spoleto was a two-week music, theater, and dance festival, started by the composer Gian Carlo Menotti in the late 1970s, and held in the facilities of Charleston College annually in May. Although Neal was hanging around after the end of the school year to build up his portfolio of musical compositions, he would not have been able to afford to attend any of the Spoleto programs on his own means. The man who was standing by the empty aisle seat next to where Neal was sitting was tall, handsome, elegantly dressed, and of the same late forties age and the same wavy gray hair as Ambrose was.

“No, by all means use the seat,” Neal answered, trying to take the edge off his smile. The man smiled warmly back, leaving Neal embarrassed that perhaps he had misunderstood Neal’s smile as some sort of come on. Or were Neal’s thoughts just too consumed by Clay’s request—well, more of a command—to find another lover immediately. Was Neal seeing possibilities where they didn’t really exist?

“I do need an aisle seat and the recital hall is filling up quickly. It’s surprising there’s still this aisle seat available.”

“I was sitting in it until a minute ago,” Neal answered. “But I could see that I could view the musician’s hands on the piano keyboard better from this seat, so I moved over.”

“See his hands better—ah, I guess that means that you study music yourself then,” the man said as he sank down into the aisle seat. “So, are you a music student?”

“Yes, here at Charleston College. I’m lucky to be able to come to this concert. I am studying the same music styles this Carlos Ferrari composes and plays. Are you a musician too?” The man looked refined and artistic, in the same vein that Clayton Ambrose was. Neal didn’t recognize the man as being with the college faculty, but he could be. Neal knew he shouldn’t be so presumptuous—or hopeful—but the man could have fallen right into the role of Clayton, and Neal would open to him. Clayton had hinted and Neal had realized that he needed another man like Clayton.

Neal’s openness to this—because of the similarities of the men and because of Clay’s request still ringing in his ears—did prove to cut through a lot of preliminaries that normally would have been there.

“No, I’m just a banker,” the man answered. “But I do appreciate music—especially the music of Argentina. I’ve done some study of that. And I speak the Argentinean form of Spanish. My name’s Peter Wentworth.”

He was looking expectantly at Neal, who felt heat coming off the man—not temperature heat; sexual heat. He was so much like Clayton Ambrose. Neal wondered if this similarity in looks and demeanor between this Wentworth man and the professor was misleading Neal into sensing that the man now sitting close beside him was interested in him on a prurient level. It may just be this similarity, he had to acknowledge, but it made Neal tense and trembly and he felt—and hoped the man didn’t see—himself going hard. Neal, the wound of losing Ambrose still so open, just went with the flow.

Later Neal was to wonder how many young men other than him had been seduced and made to ejaculate in his shorts by the hand of an older man while sitting in a crowded hall during a concert. But by the time he thought about, it didn’t mean much to him anymore. Ambrose had left him achingly open to the approach. Wentworth couldn’t have been blamed for recognizing that, Neal reasoned.

A new release by my alter-ego is now available at Smashwords and the Kindle Store...

Warrior One - Fleet Action III



Fleet Action III - The Battle for Rigel

The FOP Fleets assist the K'lar Conglomerate to throw the Gar invaders from their home world.

Excerpt:

All ships in Fleet One were now decelerating hard. Fuel wasn't a question now. They were now one AU out of the system. Ezra kept scanning the sensors, watching the ships of the Gar as they moved in the system ahead. Then Fleet Cook appeared on Ezra's screens one hundred and eighty degrees from his fleet. The Gar were now between them.

"Sensors, they've noticed us sir. Ships maneuvering to intercept. Oops, they have noticed Fleet Cook. Half their ships maneuvering to intercept Fleet Cook."

"Mister Kinsella, how long until those ships are in range?"

"Ten minutes until they are in torpedo range. Fifteen minutes for plasma cannon, sir."

"Very good, fire when in range. Comms, give me all ships."

"Comms, all ships."

"All ships, fire when in range."

"All ships answering, 'Aye', sir."

"Thank you Candle."

On his sensor screen, Teague Kinsella, watched the blips as they came into range. He had already targeted the ships and set the program to fire torpedoes. Just a simple press of a button...now!

"Weapons, torpedoes away, sir."

"Thank you Mister Kinsella."

Teague continued to watch his screens. Five minutes later he passed the word to the plasma cannons to open fire.

"Weapons, plasma cannon firing."

"Thank you, Mister Kinsella."

Teague smiled. Of all the bridge crew, except for Commander Nolan, he was the only other one the Capt...er...Admiral called by name. Now, he just had to keep his eyes on the Gar ships as they went dark or disappeared into hyperspace and reallocate the torpedoes to other ships. He also had to keep an ear out for the plasma gunners, just in case any problems arose.

Ezra, smiled to himself as he watched Mister Kinsella preen. Then he turned his eye to the screen on his console reflecting the sensors. He watched as the First K'lar Fleet popped in to the west of the system, braking hard. It looked as if they were short about half their ships. He watched as Gar ships turned to intercept them.

Fleet one was now entering the system and Warrior One was being buffeted by fire from the Gar. The three Command Battleships broke off from the fleet and headed toward Rigel VI, the least populated planet. Half way between the two planets they would setup for resupply. The Nuadu was following to offload its Marines on Rigel VI.

Pech was in the process of launching its fighters. Half would cover the Marine landing on Rigel VI the other half would cover the Marine landing on Rigel V. The K'lar would be covering the Irél as it broke away from Fleet One to drop its Marines on Rigel V. Most of the Gar ships in the system were either dark or no longer there.

To Ezra the invasion was going too well. Something was wrong.

"Sensors, Missile up from the surface of Rigel VI."

"How many?" Ezra called out.

"Too many, sensor are having a hard time separating the blips."

"Hard to Port, up ten degrees. Plasma cannon to clear those missiles."

"Helm aye."

"Weapons, aye."

"Impact in three minutes," Lieutenant Dwyer said.

"Understood," Ezra replied. The hit would be a big one.

"Sir, approximately five hundred missiles are headed toward us," Candle said softly.

"Thanks Candle. Estimates on how many will make it through?"

"Over half."

"Brace for impact," Ezra shouted.

The ship shook, dust moats floated down from the overhead. Lights flickered, then went out, then came back on. And still the ship continued to shake violently.

"Damage reports," Ezra called out.

Launched on 28 August 2015 by BarbarianSpy, a GM novella, Temptation’s Clutches, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt.


BLURB:

The long, relentless road of young, former Olympian Ron’s descent into fulfilled temptation in man-on-man action stems from something his wife, Sally, wants badly—a sexy glamour shot of him in cowboy costume. From the moment Ron’s brother-in-law, Phil, leads Ron to the Web site of the novelty shop, gym, and photographer’s studio, Temptation Castle, Ron is trapped by its very real nefarious activities hidden in the code puzzle of the Web site in an ever-deepening web of temptation. Day by day, action by action, we watch Ron give into the temptation of desire and just going that one more step in a direction he thought he had successfully outgrown when he got married. All the while his brother-in-law is standing by, watching and waiting.

This is an expanded relaunch of the eXcessica novella “Temptation Castle.”


TAGS:

gay anal, bdsm, brother in law, costume, cowboy, domination, double penetration, drama, fetish, gang bang, gay club, gay dp, gay male, group, internet, married man, mind control, older-younger, olympic athlete, photos, role playing, seduction, video


EXCERPT:

Mart asked Ron is he wanted to take the mask off briefly. “The sexy cowboy photo for your wife most likely will come from this set,” Mart said. “And she’ll probably want one without a mask. You can put it back on afterward, though, if you’d like to take the photo shoot to the next level.”

Mart hummed and had Ron take a whole new series of sexy poses as they worked without the mask.

“These are good, but I would like to do even sexier shots, if you are willing,” Mart said. “Then you can decide just how far you’d like to go for your wife. I’ve found it’s always best to go a little farther than the subject thinks will be appropriate. You never know what the wife might want—and you are such a good model,” he added. “I could tell you’d been an Olympian and have kept in top shape.”

Ron looked through the digital images of the new photos. He knew he’d go farther. He knew he’d go all of the way if Mart took it slow. But some part of him was still reluctant, was telling him that this was wrong and that he was going down a very dangerous path and should rein in his desires and resist temptation.

“Yes, OK. We can go farther,” he answered in a breathy voice.

Mart looked pleased. “Then let’s move on to the next room, shall we? We have more appropriate backdrops there. You can put the mask back on now, if you’d really feel better wearing it.”

Ron didn’t do so, although he kept the mask with him—when they got to where he assumed this was heading, he knew he’d want to be wearing it. As ready as he was for action, he wasn’t that ready to make it public.
The cowboy area of the next room was a section of wood rail fence in front of a sky-blue background with clouds.

“Take the jeans off now,” Mart said when he had indicated the various poses he thought Ron should take on the rail fence for starters. “And put the chaps back on.”

Ron was photographed sitting on the top rail of the fence with his legs spread and his feet planted on the lower rung. He was holding a long strand of wheat in his mouth and giving the camera the teasing and come-hither facial expressions Mart was coaching him into. Telling him how good his buns were, Mart coaxed Ron into turning to show them off for the camera as well.

It was here, in this room, that Ron noticed that Mart was beginning to shed bits of his costume as well.

Nighttime Wishes by M.A. Church (M/M) Released by ARe

When you wish upon a star… it comes true in ways you never expected.


*Made ARe's Best Seller list 9/2/15
*tentacle sex, tentacles



Blurb:

Ziang, a tentacled warrior from the planet Maz’Rar, has come to Earth to claim his most precious prize and start a new life. When an unforeseen accident results in a crash landing, his plan for a quick removal of the human Shawn lays in a twisted ruin at his feet, much like his shuttlecraft. If that isn’t enough, the FBI is sniffing around.

Confronted by the very same alien who observed him since he wished on a shooting star as a child, Shawn finds his initial inability to communicate with Ziang leads to misunderstanding and fear. Forced to hide until rescue arrives, tensions mount. Shawn learns of Ziang’s intentions of taking him as a mate. Ziang, on the other hand, is completely befuddled at Shawn’s less than stellar reaction to said taking.

As they wait, a spark ignites. Turns out humans and Maz’Rarians are very compatible—tentacles and all. Shawn falls for the big alien he jokingly calls E.T. Now he must decide if he’s willing to throw away all he knows to travel the stars with Ziang.


Excerpt:

“Mayday, mayday! I’m taking fire. We are hit. I repeat: We are hit and losing altitude. My coordinates are 33.3872° N, 104.5281° W. Date of transmission: Standard Earth Time July 4, 1947.”

“Frack! Captain, what are we going to do?” Co-pilot Napal Moray fought the shuttle’s holo controls. “Engines offline. We’re leaking radium vapor out of the rear engine.”

Captain Ziang’lamdious Ta snarled at the holo controls. “How the hell did they know we were here? Dammit, this is the last thing we need.”

“The power transfer conduits are overheating. We’re losing containment in the radium core. It’s going to blow, Ziang. We’re about to light up the nighttime sky.”

“Not if we shut the core down and eject it.”

“If we do that, we won’t have enough power to maintain… We’ll descend. We won’t be able to stop it,” Napal argued. “As far as ejecting the core, do we really want the humans to access that kind of technology? They’ll try to reverse engineer it. You know they will.”

“For now the shuttle has power to weapons. We’ll detonate it. Since it’s not a warp core engine, the fallout won’t harm the humans.”

“Can’t we just transport to the main ship?” Napal asked.

“It’s on the other side of Earth’s moon. We simply don’t have the power for that now.” Ziang frowned at the computer’s main control panel. “As a matter of fact, the transporter is offline. We’re not transporting anywhere.”

“Then I guess we’ll try and land the shuttle.”

Ziang rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, that’s not a great answer either. Remember that whole conversation we just had about reverse engineering?”

Napal threw his hands up. “What else do you suggest then? We either go to the surface or we blow up. I’m not for the blowing up option.”

“Right. Down we go then.”

Ziang waved his hand on the computer holo and brought up the engine semantics. He entered the command to eject the core. It took two tries to get the command and his captain code entered and acknowledged.

“We’re losing power to the ship’s computer. If we’re going to do this, it has to be done now,” Ziang said. “I hope to all our gods we don’t end up scattered all over Earth’s atmosphere.”

“I hope we aren’t found by the Earthlings. That’s my main concern. You know what those humans would do to us. ”

“We have to get to the surface in one piece first. Then we’ll worry about the humans.” Ziang tapped in the coordinates where he thought was the best place to land the shuttle. Then he ejected the core.
As it floated away from the shuttle, he raised shields and programmed the phasers to fire. He hoped the shields would protect them from the majority of the blast.

“Ready?”

“As much as I’ll ever be. I wanted to see the wildlife here, but not quite like this.”



Author bio:
M.A. Church is a true Southern belle who spent many years in the elementary education sector. Now she spends her days lost in fantasy worlds, arguing with hardheaded aliens on far-off planets, herding her numerous shifters, or trying to tempt her country boys away from their fishing poles. It’s a full time job, but hey, someone’s gotta do it!

When not writing, she’s exploring the latest M/M novel to hit the market, watching her beloved Steelers, or sitting glued to HGTV. That’s if she’s not on the back porch tending to the demanding wildlife around the pond in the backyard. The ducks are very outspoken. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, and they have two children.

She was a finalist in the Rainbow awards for 2013 and is a member of Romance Writers of America, Rainbow Romance Writers, and Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America.



Buy Link: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-nighttimewishes-1875685-145.html
(Will be released at other outlets shortly)

Launched by BarbarianSpy on 13 September 2015, a GM novella, Turn to Love, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt.

BLURB:

Torn by confused sexual preferences and asking life for little more than the opportunity to play the piano and tennis, a young American man succumbs to family pressure, enlists in the Air Force, and is assigned to Okinawa. There his extraordinary natural sexual attraction leads him into the hands of a manipulative pimp and the beds of bored officers and their wives, to be shared separately and together.

Disillusioned, he leaves the service to be taken in by a cougar Okinawa art gallery owner, Clare, and a brooding and sultry male Japanese artist, Royshi. Clare uses him to cajole and satisfy well-heeled clients both in Okinawa and Tokyo, which drives him to playing the piano and servicing customers in a Naha piano bar for the man who seduced him into prostitution in the first place.

Enter the mysterious, powerful, and wealthy Japanese art patron, General Takehiko, who wishes to both liberate the young man and use him for his own ritualistic purposes.

This is a recast and relaunch of the eXcessia novella Ritual of Honor.


TAGS:

art, b/t/q, bar/club, bisexual/pansexual, cisgender, cougar, deception, domination, drama, escorts/hustlers/prostitution, escorts/hustlers/prostitution male/male, ethnic, forced seduction, gay, gay love, gay male, interracial romance, japan, l/g/b/t/q, male/female, male/male, male/male/female, male/male sexual practices, mf, military, mm, mmf, multiple partners / polyamory, music, okinawa, pimps, ritual, romance, samurai, sex worker, sex worker gay


EXERPT:

I stayed for dinner that night in her small two-bedroom apartment at one end of the gallery building, during which she subtly introduced me to the fundamentals of the wood block print world—both the art and the sales end, in which she was heavily invested, having her main gallery in Tokyo’s Akasaka district and the smaller gallery here feeding off the largesse of the U.S. military personnel. Royshi was only half present. He knelt at the low table with us and ate dinner—if pecking at the food like a bird could be called eating it—and he acknowledged me when we were introduced, but he remained far away mentally and didn’t participate in the discussion.

In the soft glow of the candlelight, which was more than fair to her face and figure, and the tinkle of the wine glasses, Clare propositioned me—both suggesting that I might be interested in joining her on the sales floor, where it was obvious that I was an attention magnet, and join her as well right there on the carpeted floor of her living room, where she hinted that she could show me pleasures never before experienced. She didn’t bother to ensure that Royshi didn’t hear, and he had no reaction that I could see at all.

I demurred on both, saying I already had a job—with the U.S. Air Force—and that I was in a determined phase of chosen celibacy, although yes, indeed, she did have a pair of very nice, firm tits. She made quite clear with her searching hand that she wanted my cock, but the most I would give her was my phone number and a brushed kiss at the door as I turned toward the path leading up to the road and the still-long hike back to my car from here.

As I was leaving, she said, “Royshi will be disappointed, I fear. I think he would have liked to join us.”

I was embarrassed that I paused at that, realizing only then that I was more attracted to Royshi in that way than to Clare. I don’t know whether I would have stayed if he, rather than she, had been the one to ask me to.

A few days later Clare caught me in my BOQ room on the phone and insisted that I come out to the gallery that Sunday to be the first to view a new shipment of block prints she’d brought down from Tokyo. I was drawn to the prints, having thought about this new—to me—compelling art from. The day after I’d returned from the gallery I’d gone to the base library and started reading up on the history of Japanese block print making. I had found an art book on the postwar school of the art form, led by Kiyoshi Saito, and remembered that I had seen some of his work at Clare. I wanted to see more. And, at the back of my mind, I half way acknowledged that I wanted to see more of Clare—and, even more, I wanted to see Royshi again.

And see more of Clare and Royshi I did. The gallery was closed on Sunday, and after letting me see all of the Saitos she had in the gallery, Clare decided we were going for a swim in the cove below. I tried to beg off, saying I had no suit, but she said she had one I could wear. It was a Speedo and a size too small and was barely better than nothing, but it was the thought that counted. Clare wore a string bikini, and she was still firm but supple and rounded in all of the right places. Royshi wore an electric-blue Speedo and, although his chest and biceps were muscle hard, the rest of his body was streamlined to the point that he must be a fast swimmer, with very little resistance while he knifed through the water.

After fighting the current and deciding there just was too much of an undertow for me, I ran back up to the beach and flopped down on my back on the oversized towel, propped myself up on my elbows, and gazed out into the water, trying to see where Royshi had swum to. Interestingly, I hadn’t given a thought to where Clare was swimming. As I looked, though, seeing Royshi only as a thin wake gliding through the water beyond the break of the waves, Clare slowly rose up from the surf, no evidence of the bikini now, and walked in deliberate, undulating strides up onto the beach.

Hello everyone!

I don't know how many of you are familiar with my Dragon (S)Layers series, but if you're not and you enjoy epic fantasy tales, you might enjoy it: https://www.literotica.com/s/dragon-s-layers-ch-01-the-rogue

Recently I finished and released a novella, The Paladin Gambit, set in this world where I introduce and develop a secondary character named Leslie who is soon to be drawn into the ongoing main plotline. Her novella is meant to be able to be read independent of the series, so you don't even need to be familiar with anything else in order to enjoy it. Unlike the main series, this novella is fairly light on erotic content, focusing more on the character and journey she takes in order to become what she's meant to be.

Here's the elevator pitch:
“Being offered the gift of sight for service to a goddess of hedonism and fulfillment might not sound all that difficult of a choice to make, but for Leslie, a humble seamstress, the path to becoming a paladin and champion of her newfound faith is a tangled web she's not prepared to navigate.

Forced to confront the demons of her dead husband's gambling addiction and a crafty sphinx who's casino she must infiltrate to steal a relic of her patron goddess, Leslie will have to learn how to handle her new abilities and employ the skills and senses she's honed over half a decade of blindness in order to complete her mission and figure out what her goddess is hiding from her.

In this world of divine conspiracies, dragons and magic, nothing is ever what it seems and one's fate and faith can be changed by the draw of the cards.”


The reviews have been pretty positive so far!

“Review by: Libertatem on Sep. 02, 2015 :
An excellent story. Leslie, a character from the main story, is given a gift and sets upon an exciting adventure. The dialogue and characters are always engaging and the ending will leave you wanting even more. Definitely a must-read.”

“Review by: TrMQ on Aug. 31, 2015 :
I really enjoyed this story. I felt the heroine is unique, vulnerable, genuine, and relatable, and the tale of her growth into her new role is an engaging tale that draws the reader in to share both her concerns and the rewards of her growth and new understanding. This story has pitch-perfect dialog, intriguing characters and setting, and a conclusion that invites the reader to consider all that came before it in a different light. It was thought-provoking and sensual by appropriate measure, and always felt personal and real.

I highly recommend this story.”
I've decided to put it on Amazon's KDP Select for free to boost awareness of the book as I get ready to publish the main series novels so if you'd like to check it out, you can get it here: www.amazon.com/gp/product/B014WNG10I

The promotion will run from the 17th to 19th and when the main series novel is published I'll do another one. So feel free to grab your copy and don't be shy about letting me what you think!

-Tammy

My alter-ego has finished another one, now available at Smashwords and Kindle Store.

Warrior One - Fleet Action IV



Fleet Action IV - The Battle for Rigel continues...

The FOP fleets assists the K'lar Conglomerate to throw the Gar from their Home System. The Saxons join the fray battling the Gar.

Excerpt:

Seeker, a two man scout hung in space, silent, watching. With the most sophisticated electronic detection gear the Federation had, the two men sat, each watching a different quadrant of space. They were six thousand light years from Rigel, down the spiral arm of the galaxy, watching the star systems farther down the arm. They were watching fifteen hundred Gar ships as they made their way up the spiral arm toward Rigel.

They were also watching a group of Saxon ships crossing the void between spiral arms. The Saxon's were headed toward the Gar ships. What their intentions were Commander Nolan Tóla did not know, but he watched them. After about two hours of watching, the blob of Gar ships started to break up. A small group had already broken off and turned toward the advancing Saxon ships. The bigger blob now broke into two blobs.

Nolan watched, while the computer tracked the blobs and calculated their headings. One blob never deviated from its course. The second blob, was headed to Earth. Both group of ships were still almost a month away...at least fifteen thousand light years from their destinations. The vastness of space made for long periods of inactivity and never ending anticipation, but most of all, boredom.

Nolan typed his report into the computer for transmission to Rigel and Homeworld. He finally pressed the send key and listened to the comm unit hum as it came to life to send his message. It only took a micro-second, then the comm unit was once again silent.

"Are we going to move again?" asked Patrick Egan, Nolan's partner and copilot.

"No, we can stay here a while longer. They sure aren't in a hurry to get here."

"No they aren't. In fact the computer says they have slowed significantly since we returned from Rigel."

"Could they too, have a scout checking us out?" Pat asked.

"I don't know and I don't want to go active to find out. Re-check all our passive scans," Nolan said, bending over his console punching keys and touching screens.

"Aye, aye," Pat replied.


Lieutenant Gillian Saraid sat in a corner of the mess hall aboard the Donegal, silently eating her mid-day meal. Several crew had approached her table to join her, but she either waved them away or scowled at them making them feel unwelcome. Then, when she turned back to her plate, there was an Admiral sitting across from her. She was shocked that she hadn't seen him coming. He smiled at her. She scowled back at him.

"You're not in the wilds of North America now, Lieutenant," he whispered.

Her heart started to beat faster as adrenaline was pumped into her bloodstream. She was shocked that someone, especially an Admiral of the Fleet, knew where she was raised.

"Excuse me sir, do we know each other?" she asked trying to be as courteous as possible, for her at least.

"No, not personally, but I can spot a citizen of the NA from a mile away. I was once like you. I flew scouts back when they were all one man ships. I pushed them to the limit to get as far away from my fellow humans as I could. But it never seems to be far enough, does it?"

"No sir. My I ask..."

"Ezra Nichols, Rear Admiral Ezra Nichols, Captain of Warrior One."

"Lieutenant Gillian Saraid, I can't really say it's a pleasure to meet you sir..."

"I understand Gillian. So what did you see out there?"

"Emptiness. Vast emptiness. And Gar ships. Gar ships far, far away, headed this way."

"And what of the Saxon's?"

"They were there, headed for the Gar. Seeker would have better intel than I, sir."

"Ezra. Yes, she does. We just received another communiqué from them. It's seems the Gar have split into three groups and slowed down too."

"Before I left to come here, I saw a small group split off and head for the Saxon ships."

"I read that. Well, I'll leave you to your meal and you solitude."

"Thank you sir. If I might ask..."

"Of course."

"How did you..."

"Learn how to put up with people?"

"Yes sir."

"I had a mentor who showed me how. You have taken the first step today. You have talked to a stranger. Keep talking to strangers no matter how much you want to run the other way. And a bit of advice, don't punch any of them, but if you have to, don't let anyone else see you. Then come see me. My door is always open."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

With that Admiral Nichols stood, turned and left without another word. Gillian sat staring at his back as he stalked out the mess hall door.