Update

I am sorry, y'all. I started a post mid-February, an installment, then I got the flu, then I got pneumonia, and it all just knocked me on my ass. Today is the first day I haven't felt like death, and have been able to get up and move around to do things. Hopefully by next week, I'll be able to resume things here at the blog.


***huggz***

Friday Weekend Reads

I haven't been reading as much as usual. Things are going on that make that impossible at this time. But, I have read some fabulous books. As always, feel free to share your book suggestions below :D

First up, The Other Book by Roe Hovat. I really enjoyed this one, and if you haven't read it, or Vanilla Clouds by Roe, you're really missing out on some wonderful storytelling. And I totally suggest reading the forward by Roe in The Other Book, too, in case you don't like some of the  things the characters might do in the book.

The Other Book Roe Horvat

and since I mentioned Vanilla Clouds, too:

Vanilla Clouds Roe Horvat


I am a huge fan of Kim Dare's books. I was so happy she put out a new novella! And of course, it is a fantastic book :D

Sticks and Stones Kinky Cupid 3 Kim Dare

I can't wait for the 4th story to come out soon!


And last but not least, I read The Little Library by Kim Fielding. It was a wonderful story. I love everything I've ever read by her-- hard to choose a favorite! Rattlesnake, maybe? But then again, The Tin Box, or...well, you get the idea.

The Little Library Kim Fielding



Y'all have any book suggestions for us?

Sneak Peek at more of The Jasper Soul

I promised another excerpt, but I don't want to give away too much for those who haven't read the blog story. Maybe this bit will entice y'all to give the story a chance :D This is also an example of the two different POVs. There's a reason one's 1st person and one isn't; it worked for me with the characters and the situations they were in.

Anyway! I hope y'all enjoy this peek at The Jasper Soul.

Copyright 2019
Bailey Bradford

Chapter Ten

So close. So close and yet…And yet he didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed. He’d been held in stasis, enclosed in the jasper, for so long he wasn’t even certain who he was anymore. Or if he was even real.

But there’d been a pull, a tug he couldn’t resist, and he’d been yanked from the stone. It had been incredibly painful and terrifying. He had no idea why, or what had happened, except the next moment, he was standing, staring at a man, unable to look away from him.

Vaguely aware of the music, he continued to wait, watch, held in place by some unnamed force. He wasn’t exactly whole, yet he was…something, something real enough to hold up clothes that were on him, something realenough to draw attention of other men.

But not the man he wanted to see him.

Until someone pointed, and as badly as he wanted to stay, to meet the guy calling to him, he had to turn around. His body—what there was of it—was not his own.

If he could have stayed there in that alley, and let himself be bared to the man, would he have?

It was a question he would never have an answer to. The jasper encased him before he could do more than wonder what was happening.

 **********************************************************************

I think I passed out. That wasn’t something I was admitting to anyone, either. I remember chasing the guy in the hoodie, and the particular feeling that I had to see him, to speak to him. Then there was the whole weird thing with me not being able to catch him when I should have done just that.

After that, the alley, shivers racing over me, goosebumps as I reached for him—

I sat up in the alley and rubbed the back of my head. It ached, but there was only a small knot. The fact that I was, or had been, lying in an alley? Good God on speed, that’s disgusting!

After I scrambled to my feet, I immediately regretted moving so fast. I was dizzy. Without really thinking about it, I reached for the stone in my pocket.

It wasn’t there.

“No, no, no,” I muttered, more panicked than ever as I shoved my hands into my pockets. “No, no—”

I don’t know how I found it. Someone must have flashed a light somewhere—maybe a headlight?—and the stone picked it up just enough to sparkle.

“Oh, thank God,” I said as I grabbed it. I clasped it hard and held it to my chest. Weird, but whatever.I couldn’t lose the stone. “No more of that.” It didn’t matter who or what I was talking to. More than anything, I just needed to hear my own voice. No one else was going to pop in and say, “Wow, Matt! I am glad you found that stone!”

Snorting, I put the jasper back in my front right jeans pocket. “No more escaping on me.” I left the alley, noticing that I didn’t feel like I’d hit the ground back there. A touch to the back of my head and I could tell the knot was almost gone.

Maybe having hallucinations wasn’t a bad thing if they came with rapid healing? Or was I hallucinating that I was injured, or healing, or…

Too much to think about. The sidewalk wasn’t crowded now that I was off Sixth Street. In fact, I didn’t see anyone else around. My phone was still in my back pocket, but when I took it out—well, what would you expect would happen to an iPhone not in a case if you fell on it? Yeah, it was wrecked.

“Great.” That’d make getting hold of my friends or calling for an Uber difficult. I’d just have to hoof it back to the club. It really wasn’t far.

But the heat and humidity grew more oppressive and I felt more and more uncomfortable, until I was almost certain someone was watching me, maybe even following me. I kept looking back and never saw anyone. It didn’t make any difference. The sensation only grew stronger.

Fuck it.I wasn’t made to be some brave, dashing, selfless hero. I took off running, knowing if I hit Sixth Street, I’d probably be safe.

I made it there, and back to the club, where I found Artie and the others. When they asked me about the mystery man, I just told them I hadn’t been able to find him.

But the rest of the evening, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched by something bad, evil. I don’t know. Maybe it was a portent. All I did know was danger seemed to be hovering around me and I didn’t have a clue as to why.

Cover Art/Blurb/Excerpt for The Jasper Soul

I don't know if y'all remember the blog story I was working on when the death-knell of my marriage sounded, and before I left him for the last time. It was the fall of 2016, I was working on The Jasper Soul. I concluded the final climactic scene, but I didn't finish the story and give the guys their HEA.

I finally got that done, and I changed Aklink to Andulin (mainly because I kept hearing "Boom, boom, ack-a-lacka-lacka-lacka courtesy of Was Not Was every time I tried to finish writing the story. My mind...can be an odd, odd place). Pride-Pub has made a pretty cover for the book, and it'll be released soon!

This is also the first story I've written that is in 1st person POV, or partially in it. I'm excited for it to hit the presses :D

Available Feb. 26th at Pride-publishing: https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/the-jasper-soul
and April 9th at all third-party retailers :D

An ancient evil stalks the earth, seeking to finish what it started…

Matt Callaghan is pretty sure he’s just an average guy. His tragic past haunts him, and the only comfort he finds is something he’s not willing to explain to anyone else. The jasper stone he found as a child had been with him for over half his life, and he can’t be parted from it. 

There’s more to the stone than Matt knows. Thousands of years ago, one man, the last of his people, was cast into the stone, his soul protected when his body could not be saved.

The evil that hunted him is still alive, still waiting for a chance to destroy the jasper stone.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and physical assault.

General Release Date: 9th April 2019

Excerpt:

Rocks have always fascinated me. When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up to be a geologist. Every time I found a rock that interested me, I’d pick it up and take it home, then crack that sucker open with a hammer as soon as I got the chance. Despite a few injuries—I’ve got a couple of small scars on my cheeks and one on my chin from rock chips flying off as I banged away—I never stopped doing it.
But I didn’t become a geologist, or even go to college. Life happens, as the saying goes. That’s never used as a positive statement. It always indicates a rough or bad time in someone’s life, which was true for me. I had neither the money nor the grades to get into a decent college, and it seemed like too much work, when I’d stopped dreaming of a better life.
I didn’t want to go there right then. Instead, I just wanted to sit in the early morning sunlight streaming through the breakfast nook window and study the one rock I’d never been tempted to break.
Holding the piece of jasper up to the sun made the greens and golds shine brilliantly. That stone always seemed to pulse with some kind of mystic energy. I know that’s crazy, and it’s just a piece of jasper polished from hundreds, no, thousands, of years on this planet. That I found it in the first place was stupendous luck.
I’ll never forget it. Me, Timmy and Erin had been best friends practically since birth. I was just beginning to suspect I wasn’t quite like them. All their talk of girls and what they wanted to do with a girlfriend if they ever got so lucky as to have one left me cold and, to be honest, a little queasy. It was nothing for them to throw around words like ‘queer’ and ‘faggot’ as insults. I was guilty of it, too. Maybe more so than them, because I was afraid of things I just didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to examine why I was confused about stuff like not finding girls attractive. Our church was a small one, all hell-fire and brimstone. Honestly, I never understood how anyone was ever going to make it into Heaven. It sounded like an impossible task, even with Jesus interceding for us.
Well, I’m rambling off-course. I couldn’t tell my friends what I suspected, even though we’d been best buddies all our lives. There was too much hatred when they said those words and though I tried to emulate them to defer suspicion, it only worked for so long.
That wasn’t what I wanted to remember today. I focused on the stone, the smooth, warm surface of it. Sometimes I fantasized that it was an ancient, sacred relic. Really, it was just an oval, smoothed over by the river and rocks where I’d found it. It held a glow that made it look polished, and who knew? Maybe someone had tossed the stone in the river not long before I found it. That was the most likely scenario.
Even so, I’d kept the stone a secret. When Timmy and Erin and I were out hiking in the wild of the beautiful Texas Hill Country, camping out for a few days because our folks figured we were old enough to do that then, we talked mostly about girls and sex and, of course, jerking off. I’d heard stories about boys doing that together all the time but still being straight. There was none of that for us. No one was going to whip out his dick and start stroking it around the other two. If masturbating was going to get us sent to Hell, then doing it with another guy—or two—would probably have gotten us the worst level of Hell.
It was our second day out, and the heat was getting to us. The river wasn’t too deep, the current not very strong. There were some rapids that were fun to go over in inner tubes but not so much on just our ass.
We didn’t care. We were kids, hot and excited about playing in the water. We stripped to our briefs and jumped in. We had to watch out for cottonmouths and such. There was nothing quite like shooting down rapids and having a snake zip along with us. Talk about water pollution. We caused many cases of it when someone pissed themselves in fear, and rightly so. Cottonmouths could be deadly if they got enough venom in someone.
Timmy hit the rapids and yee-hawed at first, then screeched that there was a snake and Erin and I were scrambling to our feet in a rush. Timmy’s blond hair was almost white, and so was his normally tan face when he shot out of the river, clawing at the bank and dragging himself up onto dry land. He was a mess of scratches, but Erin and I weren’t in much better shape. Both of us lost our footing and went down the rapids ass over teakettle, bumping and half-drowning ourselves in our stupidity.
As I grabbed for something to hold on to, my head under water, body bent like God only knew what, I opened my eyes. In that second, everything slowed. I saw the jasper stone, sunlight hitting it through the water. The beauty of it, the perfect shape, the colors—I couldn’t worry about dying just then. I snatched that rock up and before I knew what was when, I was standing up and walking to the riverbank, where Erin and Timmy lay panting.
I was bruised and scratched, but I felt calm, not breathless or fearful. I tucked the rock into my briefs, and I don’t know why I did that. I never told them about the jasper. I never told anyone and when the trailer I grew up in caught fire, the dryer having overheated and lit a shirt that had fallen behind it, the only thing I grabbed was that stone.

Stay tuned for an additional excerpt this week! 

Wednesday Pick-Up ***NSFW***

I've been MIA again, but last week Amber started a job and I had kids and when I didn't have kids, I was exhausted from watching them. It was also a low-dip into depression again. I am taking steps to counteract that, dietary changes, exercise, positive reinforcements...

Enough of that. Here are a few pics to help get us through this day!

Author Frey Ortega's Picking Up the Pieces

Happy Monday to y'all! We've got a guest post at the blog today featuring an amazing author-- Frey Ortega! 

Frey has a new book out, Picking Up the Pieces. Check it out! 

Blurb:

I'm Noah Linkletter, and I'm broken.

Shattered, really—and I've been trying my best to ignore my problems by chasing temporary highs wherever I can find them. I put my makeup on and dance my way through a club, and by night's end, I find a man who's willing to indulge in a little act of sin to help me forget the demons in my own head.

It only takes one moment for my entire world to turn upside down. I'm left bloody and beaten, but even through the haze I meet him.

Farid Hassan.

A man who is strong and intimidating yet calm and patient. A man who wants me, despite my demons. A man so wonderful, he's willing to help pick me up the pieces.

Maybe he'll succeed.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07N5CQ8LW

Available for Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:

I turned my face up to the ceiling as he heaved and pressed against me from behind. A solid, hard body, brimming with virility. The scent of him was intoxicating, his cologne mixing with his sweat. He slid into me roughly, with full force. Covered by the loud music around us, the clapping of his body against mine was in time to the rhythm of the beat playing in the club.

He had one arm wrapped around my waist to draw me back toward him. His other hand grasped my neck firmly, not quite choking me, but making me wheeze every so often from the constriction.

I let out a soft, garbled cry, muffled only by my arm that I pressed against my lips. I bit down into the skin, making indents in my flesh from how harshly I was biting. 

There was no love here, no emotions. It was pure, carnal, bestial lust and attraction. I saw him from across the dance floor, his gaze met mine, and within ten minutes we’d found our way to a bathroom stall.

Some people are drawn to the casualness of it all. They enjoy the chase, and the pleasure, and the unsaid goodbyes as clothes are quickly put back on. It’s possible they might exchange numbers, when the fucking is good enough, in the hopes it might happen again. Others, like me, use it to fill a void, when the darkness gets to be a bit too much and the only way to stop it from closing in around me is with a distraction.

I revel in those moments of pure clarity when, for the briefest second, the only thing I am is a sheath for a cock—a hole to be used—and I can focus on the sensations of pleasure coursing through my body. They were like a drug to me, little jolts of pleasure-lightning emanating from my pelvis, throughout my core, all the way to my fingertips.

“Such a pretty boy.”

The man behind me was solid and warm and, from what I remember, he was attractive. Most importantly, his dick was rock hard as it slammed into me over and over with wild, reckless abandon. I could feel the steady slide of lube, and every so often he would lean back to dribble some saliva over where his cock met my hole and the lubrication would get nice and sticky again.

I gasped and smiled, feeling his fingers interlace with mine as he pushed our hands up to the walls of the bathroom stall. My knees buckled, and I bit down on my lower lip to keep from moaning too loudly. People outside the stall probably already knew what we were up to.

“You like that?” he whispered, his breath hot and tingly against my ear. I knew his words were just platitudes. He didn’t really care. Just like how our fingers were intertwined, I knew it was more an empty gesture than anything else. He wouldn’t be fucking me in a bathroom stall within the first ten minutes of meeting if he actually cared.

I didn’t mind. I knew what this was. I knew not to expect more. This was already enough.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice a little higher than it usually was but muffled by my arm. I knew if I showed some form of pleasure, he would be a bit more enthusiastic. Maybe it would even be enough for him to start pleasuring me. 

His thrusts became as erratic as his breath started to hitch. 

“F-fuck,” he moaned. “Pretty boy has a really tight ass.”

Inwardly, I sighed. He was close. I could feel it in the way he gripped me tighter. Sure, this felt good—but I had hoped maybe he would reach around, perhaps give me a little bit of common courtesy.

It was too much to hope for in a restroom fuck, I supposed.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed.

Moments later, we shuffled out of the bathroom stall, his load firmly deposited in the condom that had been flushed down the drain. I was sore in all the right places but managed to stuff my erection down my pants.

We were both in front of the mirrors. Some of my makeup had smeared from the sweat, and I had a serious case of raccoon eyes now.

Life went on, as usual.

About the Author:

Frey Ortega writes erotic romance, primarily of the gay variety. He lives in what a friend affectionately calls “the south-easternmost part of Spain,” which is an archipelago called the Philippines. He’s a graduate of the Royal, Pontifical, and Catholic University in Manila, with a Bachelors of Science degree in Psychology. Primarily, he works as a writer, a novelist, sometimes a video game journalist, and overall a homebody who spends way too much time on the internet.

He loves writing about people, especially people of all different shapes, sizes and backgrounds, falling in love. You might also find him playing video games from time to time! His favorite ones are MMORPGs, and role-playing games in general (and not just the ones in the bedroom.)

Visit his website at: http://www.freyortegawrites.com/

All right. Time to...

Time to get back on track. I'm coming out of the seasonal depression that tends to pull me under. Every time I tried to write a blog installment this week, I've gotten stuck and easily frustrated.

Well, enough of that. Starting Monday, there'll be daily posts, like I'd had before depression hit me head on.

There will be two weekly installments-- Tuesday and Thursday.

If there's anything y'all would like to share-- personal stories, favorite reads, pics, etc.-- y'all are welcome to send them to me to post at itsbaileybradford@yahoo.com

I apologize for dropping the ball. Hopefully things will get better all around, for all of us.


***huggz***

Bailey

Friday Inspiration

Thank y'all for the birthday wishes. <3

I will have an installment up tomorrow, but for today, while I'm doing edits on The Jasper Soul for Pride, I could use some inspiration, so of course it's time to share!

Photo by Scorpio Creative on Unsplash

Photo by Ol Klein on Unsplash

Photo by Darcy Delia from Pexels

Photo by VINICIUS COSTA from Pexels

Apologies & New Release

I've been struggling with depression and anxiety more than usual the past couple of weeks, and haven't been up to posting often or at all. December and January have always been difficult months for me, the ones where I hit my lowest of lows. I'm not sure if it's SAD or what, but functioning is so difficult in December, and by January, I'm just crawling through each day. Lately, I've wondered if I should just quit writing. The pressures to meet deadlines and the lack of sales do not inspire me. I had great plans for self-pubbing, but I just don't know. Maybe I'll get out of this dark place and back to where I need to be. I do know I can't support everyone living with me on my writing income anymore, and it's difficult to write much while working full-time. So there's this argument over that going round and round in my head. See? Am I not a barrel of laughs lately?

Anyway, tomorrow might be better, and I will try to get an installment or two up this week. I liked posting five days a week like I'd been doing before depression slammed me so hard.

I think, today, I'll go spend a few hours walking outside somewhere. Sunlight helps me to feel less shitty, and I need to move around.

Well, on to the new release.

I have a new release out-- The 13th Month, last one in the Calendar Men series. I've enjoyed writing the series even though it was a battle for me to do it. Getting back into the rhythm of writing, especially romances when I've had my own romantic life shattered, has been a challenge. So, I'm proud of being able to have kept up with this series. I hope y'all have enjoyed it. <3

The 13th Month

NEW COMMENT CONTEST! And winners!!

Well, new for January! Same rules as always-- you get an entry for every post you comment on, one entry per post. Feb 4th (because I get paid then), two winners will be chosen and will recieve a $10 Amazon Gift Card each!


So comment to win!


Congratulations to the January winners, chosen via random.org:

Cinders

and

Theresa Talavera


Theresa, please email me at itsbaileybradford@yahoo.com with your Amazon email address. Thanks!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I've been busy working on The Jasper Soul, editing it first, then I need to finish it, then revise again. I really will try to get an installment in Painted Sky up today-- I started one but then opened The Jasper Soul.


Here is wishing that 2019 is THE year for you! May your blessing be innumerable, your laughter joyous and frequent, your love stronger and freely given and received; may prosperity be with you always, your health flourish, and every day shows you new and wondrous things.

Babble and Writing Progress

I'm finally feeling somewhat recovered from whatever cooties kicked my ass this week. I've got The Jasper Soul printed out and ready to revise, finish, edit, correct, weep over, re-edit, then format for publication. Hoping to get a big chunk of that done today.

Then next week, I'll start on the new contemporary to be self-pubbed, revise the two books I got back from ARe and expand at least one of them, as well as get a good start on the book for Pride that will be due soon. I'm leaning towards a BDSM one for Pride, but who knows. Maybe I'll switch that around and self-pub the BDSM while writing a contemporary for Pride. Suggestions? I've got to get the self-pub going strong so I can keep writing.

I'm still house-sitting for Judi, and it's so quiet, she might not be able to drag me out of here :D

We've had snow and abnoramally cold temps here. The next ten days or so are supposed to be cold. Ick. I'm such a wimp!

All right, that's enough rambling and babbling. I hope y'all have a fantastic weekend!

***huggz***

Happy 24th!

Well, y'all, I've lost my voice, which is fun for those around me (except I'm by myself, house sitting for the amazing Judi Philips for a couple of weeks). However, short of wrapping some gifts, I'm ready for Christmas, finally. How about y'all?

We're supposed to have snow here Wednesday and Friday; we'll see if it happens. I have a couple of installments planned this week, along with the start of a self-pub contemporary that will be more angsty than my usual. It's a story that has been on my mind for years, and maybe now I can write it.

That's all the excitement in my life. I'm sick, a little cranky and tired, but thankful for all of the people in my life. <3

ARGH

Sorry for being quiet this week, y'all, it's been batshit crazy here. I hope everyone's doing well and ready for the holidays, if you celebrate them.

I'll be working long, odd shifts the next couple of days, but am hoping to have time to get back to daily posts here.

***huggz***

Installments

Will be Friday and Saturday night. I was working on one for tonight but ST is visiting her dad and FaceTiming me right now. Going to be a long chat, methinks.

Wednesday Book Suggestions!

I haven't had as much time to read this past week, so I've only got one!

Beautiful Dreamer

Beautiful Dreamer, by Christina Lee! This was a low-angst book, which I desperately needed. It was very charming, with the main characters drawing me right into their story.

Garrett Coleman spent most of his adolescence crushing on Finn Sweeney—until that Ultimate Dream Guy image got obliterated during senior year. Garrett’s since gone out of his way to avoid the sexy ginger, instead throwing his energy behind his dance career while supporting his mother through her cancer diagnosis.

Finn Sweeney used to think of Garrett as just his kid brother’s best friend, but after an intense exchange at a high school party, things got a little…weird. Despite that, when their two families decide to get together for the holidays for the first time in years, Finn can’t say no. But he’s fully prepared for this to be awkward as hell.

When Finn and Garrett lay eyes on each other for the first time in their adult lives, all bets are off. Finn is completely captivated by Garrett and getting to know the man he’s become is now his top priority. Playing catch-up with Finn makes Garrett truly see him beyond the childhood fantasy he’s held onto all these years. Finn is real and vulnerable…and hot as hell.

Garrett and Finn can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, so they decide to bury the hatchet between them for the remainder of the visit.

After all, it’s only a holiday fling.

Until it becomes something more.

Monday Mood-Lifters ***NSFW*** Links

Well, today I'm going to post a pic or two along with links to some ***NSFW*** sites that might, er, lift your spirits :D

I can never share this pic enough. *smokin'! And definitely the inspiration for the first book in my new series. 

First of all, can we just appreciate PornHub? The owners of that place have reached out to artists who are going to be kicked off Tumblr, and the comments some of the viewers leave are incredibly witty and funny :D

PornHub Hubba Hubba


Then, of course, there's CockyBoys, which is also another well-run site, with fabulous owners and some really nice-- and sexy-- guys on there.

CockyBoys

Installment dates and a second, **NSFW** peek at The 13th Month

I've got to work again and haven't had a day off since Thursday...and am not off again until this Thursday. However! I should be able to write a couple of installments because of the change in hours that I do work. I'm thinking Thursday and Friday *had to change, am still working on tThe 13th Month* for installments. If that changes, I'll let y'all know! 

<3 

Calendar Men 13
The 13th Month
Copyright 2018
Bailey Bradford

Ezra’s skin was warm, the heat from it slipping through his shirt. Marco turned his head enough to press his lips against Ezra’s chest, hoping Ezra wouldn’t notice what he was doing.

But Ezra’s breath hitched, and he pulled Marco closer. “Marco?” Ezra’s raspy voice caused a reaction Marco hadn’t experienced since before Evan had tried to kill him. Desire coursed through him, and though his dick didn’t get hard, there was the definite promise of an erection there if he kept touching Ezra. 

“I can’t remember,” he found himself muttering, “when the last time I had sex was. I didn’t like fucking Evan, and she didn’t enjoy it, either.”

Ezra tucked a finger under Marco’s chin and tugged. 

Marco, knowing he was blushing because his face and neck were too hot, forced himself to look at Ezra. 

“You didn’t go elsewhere for sex?”’ Ezra asked, a tension in his face Marco didn’t know how to read.

Marco would have shaken his head if he’d been able to, but there wasn’t room. “I’ve never been the cheater, no matter what anyone has said. I know how bad that hurts, thanks to Winnie. But I have pushed women away, made them cheat if they were looking for affection. I know that now, and it—damn it, Ezra, I’ve fucked up my whole life. I—”

His pulse doubled in speed as Ezra closed the distance between their lips, kissing Marco’s words away, sliding his tongue into Marco’s mouth with a tentative caress that melted Marco inside. 

The sob surprised him. Marco didn’t know where it came from, why the wave of pain rolled through him and spilled out in that sound. He tried to cling to Ezra, but lying on his left side, only his right hand was free, and it didn’t cooperate with his brain’s command to grab Ezra’s arm. 

Marco didn’t want the kiss to end because he’d almost cried like a baby. 

Ezra didn’t pull back. Either he knew Marco well enough to intuit what he needed, or he didn’t recognize the sound for what it was. 

Marco chose to believe it was the former. 

Ezra slipped one hand down to Marco’s hip, bringing their groins together. There was not frenzied groping, just the press of their bodies, Ezra’s moving his hand to Marco’s lower back, and Marco, needy, hungry for affection, opening for more of Ezra’s kisses. 

“This is why,” Ezra said in between those kisses, “this is why.”

Marco didn’t know what he meant, couldn’t think when all of his thoughts were a blend of chaotic joy.

Find me on MeWe!

FaceBook is making all kinds of changes that I don't like, and that doesn't bode well for anyone reading or writing this genre. Or anyone who is sex-positive, curses, etc. So, if you're interested, you can find me on MeWe!

Bailey Bradford

Peek at The 13th Month

So, I'm still working on it, and it's not been edited, of course, but here's a peek at the first chapter of The 13th Month, which will be the last book in the Calendar Men series:

The 13th Month
Calendar Men 13
Copyright 2018
Bailey Bradford

The 13th Month

Calendar Men 13

Bailey Bradford

Chapter One

Quantum, Inc., was bustling, the employees excited about all the new contracts and projects in various stages of development. As the owner of the company, Ezra Harrington should have been just as excited, should have been celebrating along with his employees, enjoying the catered lunch he’d had brought in. 

Instead, he was sitting at his desk, wondering how long he needed to stay before he could leave without causing too much of a fuss. He was the boss, after all, and he used to stay at Quantum, Inc., more often than he did anywhere else. His company had been his home, but all that had changed when his friend, Marco Chacon, had almost died. 

“Ezra?” 

Ezra blinked, coming back to himself. He’d been staring out the wall of windows behind his desk, though he hadn’t seen anything. His mind had been elsewhere, and so had his sight. Turning around, he plastered on a smile he hoped looked sincere. When he saw Albert Washington standing in the doorway, Ezra didn’t have to fake happiness. Albert was one of his favorite employees. “Albert, come in and have a seat.”

Albert entered the office. His suspenders were a pale lavender, and he wore a matching bowtie. The baby blue color of his shirt went well with both. “Maggie said you wanted to see me?” 

Ezra waited until Albert sat in the chair closest to the desk before replying. “Yes. As you know, the motherboard you designed has put Quantum, Inc., at the top of the field. We have more contracts than we can handle, though HR is handling that issue, and financially, Quantum, Inc., is projected to be one of the most profitable companies in the United States next year. A lot of that is due to your contribution, so I wanted to offer you a promotion to development manager, and you’re getting a nice raise whether or not you want to accept the promotion. Merry Christmas.”

Albert’s eyes were wide behind the lenses of his glasses. “A p-promotion? Anda raise?”

“Yes,” Ezra said, feeling something that made him light up inside. It took him a moment to realize it was happiness. It had been a long time since he had experienced that particular emotion without some trepidation attached to it. “Yes, indeed. Thanks to you, this company is one of the most sought-after techs around. A ten percent raise is in order, and not unfair. You’ll also earn two percent of net sales on the motherboard you designed. If you accept the management position, there will be additional perks, including financial. I want you to take some time to think about the offer, though. You’ve got a week off with Gregg. If you can give me an answer after that?”

Albert bobbed his head. “Yes, yes I can do that. It’d be more hours?”

Ezra winced. “Well, yes, but you’d have more paid vacation days. I would do my best to balance that out for you.”

“Okay, I’ll talk it over with Gregg and get back with you the first week of January. Thank you, Ezra, for everything.” Albert cleared his throat then tugged at his bowtie. “Um, how is Marco? I heard he had pneumonia again—but that came from someone in the office, and I wanted to ask you myself. You know how gossip goes.”

“Often wrong.” Ezra leaned back in his chair. “Not this time, however. Marco was in the hospital for a week. He came home two days ago and is still weak. It wasn’t pneumonia this time, but some bacterial infection that the doctors feared would lead to sepsis. Luckily, he’s going to be fine.” I hope. Gods, please let him finally get to recover.It had been one health crisis after another for Marco for almost a year. 

“Good, good. You know, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out to me. I didn’t want to call Perry and ask about the rumor I’d heard, didn’t want to upset her, especially while she’s on that fashion shoot in Versailles.” Albert smiled. “She’s got contract offers coming in daily now that the charity calendar has been such a hit. Some of the guys have been contact by talent agencies, too. The calendar itself has raised so much money for the children’s cancer fund, there are already plans to do another one. Well. Anyway. Thank you, Ezra.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you decide to do whatever is best for you, and if that happens to be what’s best for Quantum, Inc., that’d be great, but if not, we’ll be all right.” Ezra stood and walked out from behind his desk as Albert got up. “Thanks for asking about Marco and not just running wild with a rumor. He’s had a traumatic year, what with Evan trying to murder him twice, then all the health complications from the burns. I hate that he’s the subject of gossip.”

“Any time I can be of help, let me know.” Albert shook his hand, then left the office. 

Ezra waited until Daria got up and stood at a makeshift podium to start announcing the winners of the raffle drawings. The company holiday party was always a fun one to attend, but Ezra just couldn’t hang around this year. He slipped away without anyone noticing and drove home a little faster than he should have. This wasn’t the first time he’d been away from Marco—it wasn’t like he could stay by the man’s side twenty-four-seven—but the latest health scare had terrified Ezra. He felt like he’d been living on the edge of a deadly precipice for almost a year, and he was worn down in a way he couldn’t describe. 

Except that there was no security or certainty anymore. He used to think he knew how his life would go—very successful businessman, good boss, good person, adventures few people got to take, and eventually, a love that would last through thick and thin—but now he knew nothing was set in stone. 

Ezra focused on driving. One car in the lane next to him swerved in his direction. Ezra hit the brakes and was almost rear-ended. The driver behind him honked a rapid staccato proclamation of ire. He waved a hand over his shoulder and moved over to the far-left lane as soon as he could manage to do so, all while keeping a wary eye on the car that had almost hit him. 

When he reached his home, the guard at the gate nodded but didn’t let him in. Ezra was grateful for that. He rolled down his window and greeted the guard. “James, how is it going tonight?”

“Just fine, Mr. Harrington. Danu is with Mr. Chacon, and the house staff are all in, as they should be. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

While Janes was speaking, he leaned closer and peered past Ezra. 

One of the reasons Ezra had chosen the security company he used was because of how thorough they were when it came to doing the job. Not one guard let him come onto his property without making sure someone else wasn’t in the car with him. 

“All by yourself, Mr. Harrington?” James asked, eyes sharp as he looked at Ezra. 

“That I am,” Ezra replied, the agreed-upon answer that let his guards know he was alone, and that there wasn’t someone hiding somewhere—like in the trunk, he supposed. 

“Have a good evening.” James pressed the small control in his hand, and the tall silver and copper gate began to open. 

“You too, James.” Ezra 

That gate was one of Ezra’s prized possessions. He’d had it made by an artist he’d met in the Pearl district. It was an impermeable gate, solid and very heavy, not made from thin metal bars. The design on the front and back were the same, a scenic display of the sun and its coppery rays caressing a mountainous landscape. Off to one side was the dark form of a cat stalking unseen prey. 

The gate was priceless, and maybe someone else would have put it on display as art, but Ezra had bought it to use. He enjoyed the combination of beauty and functionality.

The driveway wound a half-mile down to his home. Rather than live in the most well-known and wealthy community in the San Antonio area, Ezra had opted to buy several acres north of the city and have his dream house built. He hadn’t wanted to deal with homeowner’s associations or anything else. 

The two-story house had five bedrooms and seven bathrooms—he’d wanted two not attached to bedrooms. The basketball and tennis courts were to the left and right of the house, respectively, and the large pool behind it, as was the jacuzzi and sauna. A small golf course was set beyond those, and he had a stable, corral, and horses not far from there. 

There were no trees or shrubs lining the driveway—security had recommended the removal of those and Ezra had complied without hesitation. Marco’s safety was more important to him than landscaping. There were a few oak trees elsewhere on the property but nothing more than those and grass. 

The garage door began to roll up as he approached it. Ezra parked his car and shut it off, unfastening his seatbelt before he cut the engine. He got out and made sure the garage was secured, then he stopped by the side door. It only took a second for the security device to scan his iris, then Evan was finally inside and headed to find Marco. 

Ezra paid little notice to the inside of the house itself except to note it was clean. The white carpet and furniture were pristine and kept from being dull by the splashes of color added here and there. 

But Ezra was looking for Marco, and he wasn’t on the couch or recliner; the TV that took up half the viewing room wall was off, and Marco wasn’t in there, either. 

No wonder. He just got out of the hospital again. Ezra hurried toward Marco’s room, which was downstairs and beside Ezra’s temporary bedroom. Although he’d been sleeping there for almost a year now, so it didn’t seem temporary anymore. But, he’d wanted to be close to Marco, and a flight of stairs up to the bedrooms hadn’t been something Marco could handle.

Before Ezra rounded the corner leading to the hall and the bedrooms, Danu, the night nurse, came around it. 

“Mr. Harrington, you’re back early.” Danu stopped and frowned. “I thought you said you’d be gone for six hours or so?”

“I was wrong in my assessment of the time I’d need to get things done.” Ezra started to fold his arms over his chest, then stopped himself. He had no reason to be defensive. 

Danu sighed and leaned against the wall. “Mr. Harrington, I won’t let anything happen to Marco. It’s important that you take care of yourself, too, not just your friend. Time away from the situation—”

“No.” Ezra bit back a scathing reply that would have had him asking where Danu got his psych degree. Being snobby and bitchy were two things Ezra tried hard not to do. “If it stresses me more to be away than to be here, that should tell you something.”

Danu nodded. “Yes, sir, it does, but I don’t think you’ll listen to what I have to say.” He stood straight. “Mr. Chacon is sleeping. He’s had his breathing treatment and antibiotics. Managed to eat a decent amount of dinner. We were discussing his recovery, or rather, I was talking about the recovery plan his doctors have outlined for him, and he said that he won’t agree to any more surgery. I didn’t press the matter right now.”

“Of course. I’m going to check on him.” Ezra moved past Danu and strode to Marco’s door. The surgeries Marco had refused weren’t all cosmetic. If he wanted to regain more mobility in his right hand—which was his dominant one—and arm, he’d need to have more skin grafts done. 

But Danu was right. Now wasn’t the time to argue with Marco. 

Ezra opened the door, not bothering to knock. He didn’t want to wake Marco up. The room was dark, as Marco preferred it. He didn’t like any light creeping in when he slept. 

Ezra was glad he had his cat’s ability to see in the dark, even when he wasn’t shifted. 

Marco was propped up until he was almost sitting, a position which the doctor had suggested since Marco was coughing a lot as his lungs cleared out.  Ezra had slept very little the night before, listening to every round of hacking that tore through Marco, wondering if he should go check on him even though Danu had been there. Marco hated it when Ezra hovered, though, so he’d stayed in his own room. 

But now he looked at Marco, at his profile, which Ezra had always thought of as regal with Marco’s high forehead, his deep-set eyes, long, down-tipped nose, full lips and strong chin. Throughout the thirty years they’d been friends, Marco had always been such a bright, loud person, one who radiated energy and determination even when not speaking. 

Until Evan had tried to kill him. It was a higher level of betrayal than Marco had come to expect from his wives, and he’d been married close to a half-dozen times, from what Ezra could remember.

Evan had almost extinguished the spark that was Marco, almost ended his life and snuffed out the vital, talented man. 

Marco tried to claim that man was gone, but Ezra didn’t believe it. If Marco wouldn’t fight for himself, then Ezra would. 

Giving up on Marco was something he refused to do. Come hell or high water, he’d help Marco shine again.