Making the Rules

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Triskelion Series #3
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: October 4, 2022

The rules keep changing as Saul and Troy and their good friends and lovers Geoff and Carter are figuring out how they all fit together in their evolving relationship. Subs Geoff and Troy test the limits of both their friendship and their Doms’ patience as they discover new things about each other, and Doms Carter and Saul wrestle with how to be the men their subs need and become lovers in their own right.

As they all push boundaries trying to decide how to move forward, Troy begins to feel like he’s constantly one step behind, and he’s having trouble keeping up with everyone else. He’s already unsure how much more change he can accept, so when a tragedy strikes, it threatens to completely overwhelm him.

Geoff, Carter, and Saul all come together to help Troy cope, and to figure out what he needs. But what they all soon discover is they have to understand what they each desire, and that making the rules is all about that balance.

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Chapter One 

 

Stuffed mushrooms were a pain in the ass. They smelled weird when they were cooking. They either went wet or dry when they sat. No matter what Troy did, they sucked. 

They sucked, and Carter loved them with the fiery burning passion of a thousand suns, so Troy made them. 

He made them for Carter’s birthday. For Geoff’s birthday. For Carter and Geoff’s anniversary. Now he was making them for New Year’s Eve. 

Again. 

It must be love. 

“Is the dishwasher done yet, honey?” Geoff came swooping into the kitchen and dragged a hand across Troy’s ass as he walked by. “Carter wants me to put the bar glasses out. He’s micromanaging. Consider yourself warned.” 

“Can’t you go suck him off or something?” he whispered, meeting Geoff’s eyes with a wink, making sure neither Carter nor Saul could hear. 

“Right? He won’t sit still. Saul is on it. He’s trying to tempt Carter into the hot tub.” That might work, get the Doms out of their hair. It wasn’t like either of them was really helping. 

Well, Saul had set the tables up and helped move the furniture around. And Cartermust have done something useful. 

“Oh, it is done, yay.” Geoff opened the dishwasher and started pulling out all the glassware and dishes they’d thrown in. A lot of that stuff sat from party to party, so it needed a refresh. “Do I smell mushrooms?” 

“You do. You know how Carter loves them.” He’d made Geoff his cheese ball and Saul sausage balls. He had Lit’l Smokies, pinwheels, French onion dip, queso. They were going to have a great party. 

“What are you going to wear?” He should have known that question was coming. Geoff had probably had his outfit picked out for a month. “You have Saul now. You’ll have to come out and play and be social instead of hiding in the kitchen this year, you know.” 

“When did we make that rule?” He not only had Master Saul, but Carter and Geoff as well. 

“Did you miss that meeting? It’s a rule.” Geoff closed the dishwasher. “You need to look like you’re going to a party, lover. End of subject. I want to see you dress up.” 

“I have jeans and a clean T-shirt?” He knew teasing was going to rile Geoff up, but it was probably worth it. 

Geoff clucked at him and shook his head. “Is that all you brought? I can’t believe Saul would allow that. Ugh.” Such a disgusted sound. Pretty damn funny. 

“My ugly Christmas sweater?” He grinned across the kitchen. 

Geoff’s eyes went wide. “Troy Finch! You are in deep trouble.” Geoff marched over and got right in his face, but his lover wasn’t angry, Geoff was flirting. “Naughty. I’m going to tell Saul. Unless you can convince me not to.” 

“No. No, anything but that!” He laughed softly, rubbing their noses together. “I could distract you.” 

It was Geoff’s fingers, tracing his ink, the tattoo artist knowing every single inch of himthat was distracting. 

“Boys.” Saul’s tone was indulgent but firm. “No distractions. Geoff, please take the bar glasses out before that little vein by Carter’s temple explodes? I’ve convinced him to start up the hot tub, but I promised I’d make sure you took care of that for him.” 

“Yes, sir. And thank you, sir.” Geoff winked at Troy and pulled a tray out of a cabinet to load up with glasses. 

“My pleasure, boy. You were right; he needs to relax.” Saul stepped right into the space Geoff had just left, keeping Troy pinned with the counter at his back and took a kiss. “Smells good. You’re working hard.” 

“Cooking is, apparently, my thing.” Cooking, yoga, and loving on people. It was a thing. 

“Carter says you and Geoff usually do all the cooking for New Years on your own. But in a couple of hours” Saul hooked a finger in his belt and tugged on it. “—we’re going to take a shower and then you’re going to put on those jeans I like your ass in.” 

“Am I?” God, he loved thisplaying, laughing, teasing. “Not the baggy ones?” 

“Save those for Carter.” Saul grinned and gave him one of those heavy kissesthe ones that made sure he knew who he belonged to. “See you after my soak, boy.” Saul grabbed a couple of bottles of water on the way out of the kitchen. 

“Love you, Master.” Turd. Leaving him to cook. He laughed softly, at himself, at the universe. 

“Okay, Saul gave me a smug little peck on the way out to the deck. What’s his deal? And what’s so funny?” Geoff came back from the living room with an empty tray and put it back where it came from. 

“Oh, he was leaving to soak while I slave away.” He winked and kissed Geoff’s cheek. “I was just happy.” 

“Rubbing it in, huh? We don’t want those two in our hair anyway, honey.” Geoff peeked into the oven. “Did I tell you that Saul and I talked about your ink? The one to match the rest of us?” 

Troy was the last of the four of them to get the circular tattoo of the four elements that Geoff had originally created for Carter. The one that represented their foursome. Carter’s was on his arm, Saul’s on his chest, and Geoff’s on his thigh. But Troy was covered in ink, nearly every inch, head-to-toe except a couple of private places. 

“He says your ass is out. He says only his marks get to go there.” 

“Oh. Oh, I just assumed” Where else would it go? Maybe his master just wanted him tohe wasn’t sure. Weird. His ass was the best space. 

“He suggested right here.” Geoff touched the side of his neck below his ear. 

“Everyone would be able to see it, admire it.” He didn’t mind that idea at all. It would burn like a stone-cold bitch, but he’d survived that. A lot. 

“Sounds like a Saul move to me. I told him it would hurt. He kind of shrugged at me.” Geoff grinned at him. “He knows what he wants, huh?” 

“He does.” Troy knew what he wanted, and that was his Master, his lovers, his friends. Suddenly, he had been moved from right outside the circle where everyone was to smack dab in the center of it. 

“You think we’ll do a scene soon? I mean a real one, all four of us? I asked Carter, and he said he and Saul would discuss it.” Geoff did a fair impression of Carter on that last bit. 

“I think so, yeah.” Saul had been talking about ittalking hard, to be honest. Saul seemed to think that he was a prude, somehow, which he really wasn’t. Of course, he liked the attention, the careful encouragement, the petting, so he soaked it in. 

“I’d love to feel his arm. I wonder how different it would be than Carter’s. Is that weird? Do you think about those things too?” Geoff was keeping busy while they talked, finding serving dishes and clearing room in the fridge for the food he was making. 

He didn’t know how to answer that. Had he fantasized over the last twenty years? Sure. Had he eventually stopped because it didn’t matter, since they were never going to want him like he wanted them? Absolutely. And then that brought up the certainty that without Saul, they wouldn’t want him now, and that was more than he wanted to worry about. “I do.” 

“Oh. What’s the matter, honey?” Geoff came right to him and rested a hand on his chest. “Does it worry you?” 

“No. I trust all y’all.” That wasn’t an issue, not at all. 

Geoff smiled that sunny smile for him. It was good that his lover didn’t seem at all anxious despite the company and the party coming. Geoff had seemed more relaxed lately in general. “Good. We trust you too.” He got a quick kiss. “You’d better check the oven.” 

“I’m on it. Are you going to soak with them?” He didn’t have time, not if he was going to make things perfect. 

“No, I’m helping you. I’m not leaving you to this insanity by yourself. You just tell me what you need me to do.” 

“How long til folks start showing up?” 

“We have…” Geoff looked at the clock over the sink. “Three hours. And Masters are going to want to get cleaned up. I know how Carter is before these things. He’ll want me to get him dressed.” 

That made him smile. “Maybe you should dress them both. Make sure Master Saul is all glossy.” 

He pulled out the mushrooms so they could cool and grabbed the puff pastry from the fridge. 

“As if he’d allow that. I’ve seen how he’s watching you today.” Geoff’s tone was suggestive. 

“You think?” Troy let himself feel thatthe pride, the pleasure. “I’m used to hanging out in the kitchen for this party, you know.” 

“Not this party. Not anymore. We’ll all help; it will be fine. I’m looking forward to having you out there, showing you off a little.” Geoff drew a finger down his chest. “You’re mine too, now, you know.” 

“I do. I think, in a lot of ways, I was yours first.” His nipples went hard so fast his rings jumped. 

Geoff’s cheeks blushed dark, but the look on his lover’s face was so serious. “I think so too. I think if we look at it the way we maybe should have all along, that we’ve had this for a long time. I just… couldn’t…” Geoff shrugged and leaned in close, pressing him against the refrigerator. “I can now.” 

He arched hard into Geoff’s lean strength, eyes going wide from the sudden cold at his back. Fuck, he loved themall of them. 

Geoff took his hands, pinned them gently above his head and kissed him like he was loved back. It was hot, sure; everything about Geoff had a little sex brewing under it, but it was more too. Kind and honest. Giving more than Geoff took, even while clearly asking for his submission. 

That he could give, and he moaned, the sound buzzing in their kiss. His body responded eagerly, his belly and balls going tight. 

“Is anything gonna to burn while you blow me?” Geoff whispered against his lips. 

He groaned softly, his eyelids going so droopy as a rush of need hit him. “Everything’s out. We’re safe.” 

Geoff let his hands go, took another quick kiss before pressing down heavily on one shoulder. He had a little room but not much, so he had to slide down with his back braced against the chilly stainless steel fridge. “God, Troy. Look at you.” 

“Want you. Please, Geoff, I need you.” He nuzzled Geoff’s cock through his soft pants, open-mouthed. Geoff smelled so goodsoap and musk and mint and him. 

“What are you two doing?” Carter’s voice was a deep, husky rumble. 

Geoff’s fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him right where he was. He couldn’t see his lover’s face, but Geoff’s tone was playful. “Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” 

He opened his mouth and exhaled against Geoff’s balls. 

“Troy isoh. God.” Geoff rocked into him and back again. “Polishing my zipper, Sir.” 

He groaned softly and pressed his lips against the base of Geoff’s cock. He needed skin. He wanted that heavy cock. 

“Did you get Master Saul’s permission, boy?” Carter’s fingers were suddenly at Geoff’s fly, slowly lowering the zipper. 

“Nno, Sir.” Geoff tugged on his hair. 

Carter caught Geoff’s length in one hand as he freed it. “Naughty boys.” 

“Please, Sir.” 

“You want this, Troy?” 

“Yes, Master Carter. I need y’all.” He could suck them both, in fact. Together. 

“And to think, all I wanted was a beer.” Carter tapped his lips with Geoff’s prick, and when he opened up, Carter leaned into Geoff hips, pushing Geoff inside. 

Geoff gasped. “Troy! Sir!” 

Carter growled. “Don’t play around, boy. Make him come.” 

Troy could do that. In fact, he could more than do it. He was good at it. He wrapped his lips around the base of Geoff’s prick, swallowing over and over as he lashed the shaft with his tongue. 

Geoff wasn’t quietever, but especially now. His lover shouted his name, and he heard at least a handful of curse words between the wild groans. Carter was talking low, and he knew it had to be filthy. The two of them had Geoff gulping air and standing on trembling legs in the blink of an eye. 

“Can’toh, fuck. Troy! Gonna…” 

“That’s eight, boy.” Carter’s voice was stern and rock steady. 

“Motherfucker.” 

“Nine.” 

Troy grabbed Geoff’s ass and pulled him in hard. Shut up, lover, or your ass will be on fire. 

Carter caught Geoff as his lover’s knees gave out. Geoff didn’t shut up, but what did come out as Geoff shot hot liquid down Troy’s throat was so unintelligible his Master wouldn’t be able to fault him for it. 

Troy groaned softly, easing up to give his lover all the pleasure, all the aftershocks he could. 

“Good boys. So good.” Carter’s voice was like a caress now, pouring down over him. Warm fingers curled under his chin, coaxing him to stand up. “Come and kiss me, boy.” 

He moaned softly, drawn to Carter. They all made him feel drunk with their attention. 

Carter’s kiss was intense, focused on him even as he held Geoff close, and Carter hummed to him as the kiss ended. “Mmm. You taste like my other boy.” 

“Your boy is amazing.” He licked his lips, tasting Carter and Geoff together. 

Carter cupped his chin and caught his eyes. “Now, go on out to your Master and tell him what you and Geoff were up to when I walked in. Explain that I am going to take a minute with Geoff, and I’ll be out with his beer shortly. Grab a coat; it’s cold out there.” 

“Yes, Sir.” He wasn’t worried. Master Saul would understand. He had faith. 

He slipped on his house shoes and a hoodie, then popped out on the snowy deck. “Master?” 

Saul picked his head up from where he’d been relaxing, lying back in the hot tub. It was damn cold out, but his Master had a damp little curl stuck to his forehead. “Boy? Is everything all right?” 

“Yes, Sir. Master Carter asked me to tell you I gave Geoff a blow job, and that he was bringing your beer soon.” God, his Master was beautiful. Genuinely beautiful. He was fucking lucky. 

“Ooh. Naughty. A blow job without permission? That’s living dangerously.” Saul grinned at him. “The two of them were wound up like tops. I’m sure Geoff feels much better now.” 

“Yes, Master.” He wrapped his arms around himself. Jesus, it was bitter out here. “Do you need anything but your beer?” 

Saul sat up. “You’re freezing, boy. Grab my robe from the warmer.” 

“I’m fine. I’ll head in.” He didn’t want to steal his Master’s warmth. “You’ll need it more than me.” 

Saul laughed. “It’s for me, boy. I’m taking you back inside.” 

“Oh!” His cheeks went bright red and hot. “Lord, Master, I’m sorry.” He hurried to grab Saul’s robe. 

He got Saul wrapped up and into shoes, and they hurried back together, both of them giggling by the time they got inside the house. 

“Okay, it’s cold as fuck when you’re not in that tub. Jesus.” Saul’s teeth were chattering. 

Carter clucked at them from the couch where he was sitting with a magazine and Geoff was bare-assed and draped over the arm. “Honestly, Saul.” 

“What can I do, Master?” What do you need? God, Geoff was pretty. 

Saul looked at Carter. “Don’t be such a grump, Old Man. Am I right, Troy?” Saul tugged him in and kissed him. “You should probably finish up in the kitchen, boy, so we can get our shower.” 

“If you weren’t a Dom, I’d take you over my knee, too, kid.” 

“I’m all set up, Master. It’s just assembling now.” He wrapped around his Master, offering his warmth and protecting Saul’s perfect ass. 

Carter snorted and shot him a look. “You’re not safe, boy.” 

“No, Sir.” He wasn’t worried. Saul had him. 

“Mmm. No. Not safe at all.” Saul laughed and blew Carter a kiss. “Come on, boy. These two look busy.” 

Saul led him up the stairs to the bedroom with its enormous bed for four. It was still technically Carter and Geoff’s room because he and Saul had their own place closer to downtown, but more and more, Saul had been suggesting they sleep here. They would definitely be staying tonight, and as tomorrow was a holiday and the diner was closed, he suspected they’d be staying tomorrow night too. 

As he followed his Master, he felt the world getting farther away, the constant noise and worries sliding from his consciousness and slipping away, leaving his focus on his heartbeat, his Master. 

“Undress and start the shower, please.” Saul picked up their duffel and tossed it on the bed. 

“Yes, Master.” He stripped off his filthy T-shirt as he kicked off his house shoes. “You never did get your beer.” 

Troy skinned out of his pants and briefs before starting the water running. 

“It’s all good. It was meant more as a distraction for Master Carter, and then he never actually got into the hot tub with me. I think he and Geoff are both happier right where they are.” Saul’s fingers brushed his sides and his Master kissed him between the shoulders. “We have more time this way.” 

He hummed, his happiness too big to hold in. Saul didn’t want his silence anyway. “That’s happy-making right there, Master.” 

“Mhm. I think so too.” Saul reached out and tested the water temp. “So tell me about this party. Carter hasn’t said much about what to expect.” 

“Everyone comesthere’s food, drink, music, dancing. The lights stay low. At midnight, there’s kissing. Sometimes people disappear into the shadows to make love.” This would be his first time, too, in a bunch of ways. 

Saul pulled him into the shower, under the spray, and smoothed the hot water through his hair. “Sounds like a perfect evening. Will you dance with me?” 

“I will. I haven’t danced in a long time, but I’d love to.” He arched under the spray, Saul’s hands fascinating him, making him want to just follow them wherever they led. 

“Me neither. It’ll be fun.” Saul started working shampoo into his hair. “What did you used to do at midnight? Did you kiss anyone?” 

“No, Sir. I spend this party in the kitchen.” He wasn’t whining. He hid at midnight because it hurt, to know that he was alone, that Arnie was gone, and he was justa short-order cook. 

“Spent. You may have spent this party in the kitchen before, but not this year.” Saul rinsed the soap out of his hair, and Troy watched the suds splash onto that smooth chest and slide down over his Master’s navel. “This year, you’re with us. With me. We’re going to eat and drink and dance. And you’re going to have a line of people who love you to kiss at midnight.” 

“Yes, Sir.” He let the satisfaction show in his face and his voice. “I’m excited. I want toI want to feel all the good parts.” 

“So many good parts.” Saul slid wet hands over his abs, through his curls at the base of his cock and lower to cradle his heavy balls in one hand. “It’s not midnight, but I’m going to kiss you anyway.” 

His eyes rolled, that pressure perfect, and he forced himself to focus, to relax and breathe. 

“Geoff got you a little wound up, did he, boy?” He didn’t get a chance to answer. Instead, he got that kiss, Saul’s other hand hooking tight behind his neck and holding him still. His Master’s tongue pressed past his lips and slid along his own, momentarily cutting off his air. One of his hands found Saul’s sweet ass, the firm cheek fitting in his palm perfectly. 

Saul wasn’t jealous, but his Master sure got fired up when Troy was with Geoff or Carter. He actually thought it was kind of a turn-on for Saul, getting to take him back, remind him who his Master was. It revved Saul up a little. Maybe more than a little. 

Saul broke off the kiss and looked at him, eyes bright and focused, fingers stroking him firmly. “Let’s get that edge off before the party, baby.” 

“Master.” Fuck, that felt so good. Saul knew every inch of his body, knew that he liked a firm touch, a lot of play at the tip. It was better than touching himself, because Saul always took him farther than he could take himself. 

Master or no, Saul slipped to his knees and took his ass in both hands, moving him slightly out of the flow so the water rained down his back. Saul took the head of his cock in, teasing his slit with a hungry tongue. 

Troy spread, his eyes rolling as he arched up, his hips rocking the barest bit. He could see stars like this, his world tightening to the places where his skin met Saul’s. 

“Mmm.” Saul let him move and took him in deeper, flat tongue rubbing up and down his shaft. Those hands kept a good grip on his ass, fingers sinking even more into muscle. 

He clenched and relaxed, the pressure of Saul’s fingers pushed him that much deeper. Troy groaned and spread a little wider, knowing that he had to look like a slut, and not caring a bit. 

Saul’s hands shifted and spread his cheeks so Saul’s fingers could find his entrance. They slid easily in the stream of water over his hole and beyond it, where Saul nudged and shifted his piercings. 

“God yes.” He braced himself, moving between mouth and hands, his eyes rolled back into his head. Luckiest bastard ever. 

That little bit of encouragement must have been what Saul had been waiting for. Saul hummed around him, angled just so, and was suddenly bottomless, letting him slide in as far as he could. A breath later, those fingers pushed right inside him, until he could feel Saul’s knuckles. 

“Master! Love!” His own need shocked the hell out of him, his voice echoing on the tiles. 

Saul swallowed and the hand holding his ass cheek let go and reached up to twist the fuck out of one stiff nipple. The sudden pain sent a searing shock straight to his balls. 

“Fuck!” he roared, shooting right down Saul’s throat. His balls ached with the power of his orgasm, and he shuddered with his need. 

Saul stayed right with him, meeting his energy at first and then gently coming down with him. Saul covered him with kisses and spoke softly, using words like beautiful, loved, treasured, and… So fucking hot, baby.” 

Saul stood close, kissing along the line of his jaw. “Love you.” 

“Love you. God, you make me happy.” He leaned their foreheads together, not working terribly hard to gather his thoughts. “Wow.” 

Saul leaned back, fingers gliding over his skin. “Good. I want you to be happy and feeling good. You sound pretty damn good.” Saul took a light kiss. 

“Do you need me?” He never knew. Saul always surprised him. It kept him young and focused. 

“Always, but I think I want to keep my edge until after midnight.” Saul switched with him, ducking under the spray. 

He grabbed the soap and washed his Master, enjoying the slide of his hands over Saul’s skin. His Master obviously enjoyed all the attention, too, offering him appreciative hums and soft sighs. Saul was half-hard; he could easily tease that happy cock to fullness if his Master wanted him to. Keeping an edge for later probably meant some kind of late-night scene. 

Geoff was angling for that, too, he thought. The four of them together. So new. 

“Towels please, boy.” Saul rinsed clean and shut the water off. “If you have any worries about tonight, you should tell me.” 

“What?” Did he look worried? Was he acting weird? 

He grabbed a towel and handed it over before getting one of his own. 

“It was just a question, boy.” Saul took the towel and started drying off, bare feet leaving wet prints on the bathmat. “You said you’re usually in the kitchen, I just wanted to make sure.” 

“It’s going to be weird, not feeling sad and alone. Is that strange? I won’t miss it. It’s just new.” And that made him sound like a loser, a little bit. 

Saul wrapped the towel around narrow hips. “Twenty years of habit is hard to break, I bet. And new can be scary. We’ll figure it out together. Moment by moment.” Saul took Troy’s towel and wrapped it around his hips for him. “Remember what Carter always says? Just be honest.” 

“Yes, Master. Honest I can do.” He thought so anyway. Sometimes, he hid his thoughts, but that was to protect all of them. 

He got a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good boy. I think I left my razor in the 

Saul opened the door to the bedroom, and Carter looked up from the book he was reading. Geoff was kneeling quietly by the bed, about as still as Troy had ever seen him. 

“It’s about time. Some of us need showers too.” Carter grinned at them and put the book down. “Did you use all the hot water?” 

“Every drop, boss.” Troy had to tease back, had to. 

“Butthead. You ought to beat him.” Carter winked at Saul. “I have a hairbrush and my phone. I’ll videotape it.” 

Saul snorted. “I’d rather have a video of you and Geoff in the shower.” 

“I’d do it, Sir,” Geoff said quietly from the floor. 

There was a second of stunned silence as Carter and Saul stared at each other. Troy could almost hear the whole conversation they were having with just that look. But Carter cracked up finally, and they all started to laugh like twelve-year-olds. 

“Y’all are giant dorks. Hell, all of us are.” Troy rolled his eyes and fetched Saul his razor. “Go make yourselves all pretty.” 

“Look who’s giving out orders.” His Master didn’t seem to care one bit. Saul plucked the razor from his fingers and headed back to the bathroom. 

“You ready for a party, boy?” Carter rested a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. In the last hour, every one of his men had touched him with love. 

“I am. I’m looking forward to it.” He leaned into the touch. “I made the mushrooms you love, boss.” 

“I could smell them. Thank you, boy. Doc will appreciate it too. If you’re very good, I’ll let you feed me one later.” 

He blinked at Carter, feeling his cheeks start to burn. “I’d like that.” 

Everything Carter and Geoff did made him just a little high, and he needed Saul to ground him, make things real. 

Carter gave him just the slightest hint of a knowing smile. “Good boy.” 

“Baby-faced and good as new.” Saul interrupted, coming out of the bathroom. His Master’s voice seemed loud in his ears. 

“It’s about damn time. Come on, boy.” Carter gestured to Geoff, who hopped to his feet. 

“Yes, Sir.” Geoff followed Carter, shooting Troy a wink on the way by. 

“You ready to dress me, boy?” Saul walked past him, in a totally different gear, and sat on the bed. “I brought leather.” 

“Yes, Master. God yes.”

Title: Making the Rules
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09J18R5WK

Deviations: Discipline

Contributors: Jodi Payne and Chris Owen
Series: Deviations #3
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: December 30, 2019 (Third Edition)
Pages: 312

Tobias and Noah explore their relationships more deeply than ever, not just through their own Dominance and submission, but by engaging with their friends. As Noah helps Tobias through the loss of someone dear, he finds Tobias helping him too, leading Noah through some intense sexual games, breaking down the last of his fears, and helping Noah face the biggest one of all: the cage.

Meanwhile, Tobias's ex-lover, Phantom, becomes close friends with Noah and they discover and try to resist the simmering sexual tension between them. Their playful teasing turns to real support when Phantom reaches the breaking point due to a lack of consistent Master in his life; something Phan desperately needs.

While Bradford decided he has to stand in as that Master for a while, Tobias and Noah go to Paris, where they see the sights, go to a sexy club, and re-negotiate their contract. Returning from Paris to their own lives brings them all sorts of new difficulties, from deciding whether they should live together, to trying to figure out just where Phantom belongs in their ever-changing relationship.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

EXCERPT FROM DISCIPLINE

Tobias cursed as he came across yet another torn up intersection. Traffic was a mess all through the downtown core, and his frustration level was rising with every one-way street he had to navigate. He was going in a circle, he just knew it, and Lincoln Avenue was always just out of reach.

The trouble, he decided, wasn't so much the damn construction as the sheer idiocy of the drivers who simply wouldn't get out of his way and let him get home. "It's not even close to rush hour," he muttered, talking out loud in uncharacteristic frustration and trying to ease around yet another truck offloading dirt or equipment or something. He hit the gas and then the brakes as a woman in a PT Cruiser cut him off and gave him the finger.

"And you would think," he added, "that with all this crap going on... I could at least lose this fucking erection." An incredibly persistent one at that, one that had been with him to varying degrees since he'd woken up from a morning dream about Noah and new leather wrist cuffs that had complex and intriguing chains dangling from them. He'd been hard off and on since then, and his body was definitely settling on full hardness at the moment.

He took another breath and looked around at the traffic as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his irritation growing. "But no. Not today. Today, I'm cursed with an iron dick, a schedule that's opened up, a submissive at work, and endless traffic. God damn it!" He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel and a miracle happened: the road in front of his car emptied.

So he hit the gas and took off, heading for home. The sudden siren and flashing lights in his rearview mirror made him glance down at the speedometer in dismay. "Ah, shit." With a sigh he pulled over and undid his seatbelt.

A chest in uniform appeared at the driver's side window. A knuckle tapped on the glass, and Tobias rolled down the window, stifling another sigh. The cop had one hand on his gun. As if Tobias could make a bid for freedom in this traffic.

"License and registration, please," a voice requested in an official tone, and Tobias dutifully reached for the glove compartment. "Wait a minute." The cop rested an arm on the door and ducked to see better into the car. "Do you have any idea how fast you were going, sir?"

"Jesus Christ," Tobias groaned, his head falling back on the seat. "Yes. Too fast. Would you like to know why, Noah?"

"That's 'Officer Dolan,' sir, and, yes. Yes, I would." Noah grinned widely.

Tobias rolled his eyes. "Well, you see, Officer Dolan, I have a smart-mouthed lover whom I can't get out of my head." He pointed to his lap. "I was in rather a rush to call him. Or at least think about him in private."

Title: Discipline
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0839N7PBF
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-19-2

 

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Gemini: Ryder

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: The Sin Deep Series #3
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: April 28, 2026

Widower Charles Martin has been very alone. His husband was lost to him long before Tad physically passed and Charles is at loose ends in their big, empty house. When a mutual friend suggests he hire a cowboy named Ryder as a personal assistant, he isn’t sure what to expect.

Ryder Vales lost his bull riding career to a serious head injury that left him a different man. He’s searching for something to do for work and for some peace in his life. He finds what he needs in taking care of Charles, serving and cooking for him, and in keeping him company.

Charles might be a good deal older than Ryder, but the two of them find comfort and then more together, building something that could seem odd to others, especially Ryder’s twin brother Roper, but that makes them both happy. Ryder isn’t sure if what he wants with Charles is what he deserves, though. Can Charles convince him that they’re the only two people who need to care what their relationship looks like?

Gemini: Ryder, the first book in a duet, is an opposites attract, D/s romance featuring a retired bull rider and a wealthy widower.

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Chapter 1

“These are gorgeous, aren’t they?” Charles tugged at the cuff of his husband’s black silk pajamas. “Dolce and Gabbana. I knew you’d love them. Black suits you so well.”

Although Tad hadn’t been out in the sun for years and his skin wasn’t tan anymore. In some places, it was actually translucent now. The deep black silk washed him out slightly, but it had always been Tad’s favorite color, and it looked striking against the white sheets of the hospital bed.

“I had lunch with Brady; he sends his regards. We had champagne—you’re jealous, right? I told him you would be.” Brady was a good friend and their attorney. “Next month will be five years, Tad.”

Five years was the limit. Five years and not a day more. The instructions in Tad’s medical directive were very clear, and he had followed them to the letter, even when he felt like he couldn’t anymore, or even shouldn’t.

Brady had met with him to remind him that it was time, as if he’d needed reminding. It had been a long, difficult conversation after their initial toast, and he’d been glad for the little buzz the bubbles had given him.

But he was ready. He’d been ready for a long time.

“Good morning, sir. Ooh. Are those new pajamas? Spiffy.”

He smiled at Jeremy, Tad’s daytime nurse. “Do you like them?”

“I do.” Jeremy felt the fabric and hummed appreciation. “Mm. They feel like heaven.”

“I thought so. I hope he does too.”

Jeremy hadn’t brought it up yet, but he felt like something was in the air. Their five-year contract was ending soon and that knowledge sat like the proverbial elephant in the middle of the room.

Fortunately, Tad’s room in their Lake George estate was very large.

“I—” Jeremy checked Tad’s vitals, all the silent machines that kept him alive. “Is there anything you need, sir?”

“You’re very kind, Jeremy. He hasn’t got much time left, as you know, and I just want him to be comfortable and spoiled. I suppose that’s ridiculous at this point.”

“Of course not, sir.” But Jeremy knew what he did. Tad was being kept alive by those machines now.

“Mm.” Charles shrugged and wandered to the window. He’d chosen this room for Tad’s hospital suite because of the huge windows and natural light, with its wide open view of the lake. It had been Tad’s favorite view in the house. Really, it had always been Tad’s room. It had been at one time Tad’s home office.

“If you need me, please let me know. Would you like some tea?”

He would, in fact, but he wouldn’t dream of asking Jeremy. Jeremy was here for Tad.

And pretty soon Jeremy wouldn’t be here at all.

This house was going to be very big and lonely a month from now. Very big, and very lonely.

“Thank you, but I’ll manage that for myself. You have work to do.” Maybe he should hire someone as Brady had suggested, just so he wasn’t knocking around this house alone. “I’ll be heading back to the city shortly anyway.”

“Yes, sir.” He could tell that Jeremy didn’t know what to say, so he simply left.

“I’ll see you next weekend, darling.” He kissed Tad’s forehead and squeezed his hand, the ritual so familiar he hardly gave it a thought anymore.

He went straight to his office, skipping the tea, and picked up the business card Brady had given him at lunch. Was this what he wanted? Did he really want a stranger in his house, in his apartment in the city? Did he need a—what had Brady called it? A companion?

That word made him feel old. But then his husband dying so young at over a decade his junior made him feel old too. The thought of getting back out again as Brady had suggested—attending social events or worse, entertaining guests himself as he and Tad used to, shouldn’t be so intimidating. It shouldn’t make him so anxious, and yet it created such a feeling of dread, a heaviness in his chest that made it a little difficult to breathe.

Still, he probably should have someone to help him deal with the details—not for Tad, he would handle all of that himself with Brady’s help—but for everything else.

Whatever “everything else” was.

A personal assistant. That was acceptable.

That was a call he could make.

 

Title: Gemini: Ryder
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0FPDNFVFH
ISBN13: 978-1963644203

Wholly Trinity

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #3
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: January 31, 2023

Dr. Isaac Daniels and Detective Neil Thrope have been on and off Dom and sub since they met a few years ago. Isaac is all in but he’s not everything switch Neil needs, so good as things are between them, they both know it’s not enough.

Being in the BDSM community, Isaac and Neil were there to help when sub Alain Remy Broussard was assaulted by a pair of Doms who didn’t ascribe to the notion of safe, sane, and consensual. Their friend, Dom and therapist Cyrus Hughes offered Alain a place to stay, and has been working with the boy to help him regain trust. When Cyrus is called out of town suddenly, he calls on Isaac, who agrees to take Alain in while he’s away.

Isaac feels instantly protective of Alain, but it’s Neil who quickly bonds with the sub. With Alain in the house, Neil might have found the balance he craves but thought was too much to ask for. Isaac, though, has only ever had that kind of connection with Neil. Will the Dom be able to get on board and love both men as they, and he, deserve?

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Chapter 1 

 

“I appreciate this, Isaac. I apologize for the lack of notice.” 

Lack of notice? It wasn’t like Cyrus could possibly have known that his client was going to die, let alone when. Tragedy wasn’t something to be scheduled, though it was just like Cyrus to wish he could. Isaac put his cell phone on speaker and set it on the desk, then opened his briefcase beside it. 

“Don’t worry about a thing, Cyrus. Alain can stay with me while you’re in Texas, and until you’ve got your balance back. It’ll be fine.” 

He started stuffing files into his briefcase. He was going to have to get some work done at home tonight, and possibly reschedule some of his patients tomorrow, but Cyrus Hughes was the sort of man who helped everyone else; it was a rare thing that he asked for help himself and there was nothing Isaac wouldn’t do for him. 

“Thank you. I can’t predict how the next few days will go, but 

“Cy. Alain will be just fine with me. I understand his needs, and I’m happy to do this. Just focus on yourself for a few days, for god’s sake.” He knew what Cyrus was going through losing a client; he’d lost a few patients over the years himself. Those feelings could be incredibly difficult. 

Cyrus sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “Yes. I’ve got some…things to work through.” 

He snorted. “Feelings, Cyrus. They’re called feelings. Give it time. Go get your closure.” 

Cyrus cleared his throat. “Thank you, Isaac. I’ll be in touch.” 

“Take care. Safe travels.” Isaac hung up the phone, closed his briefcase and headed out. Once settled in his cab he called Neil to see if he was available. This would be easier as a two-man job. 

“Hola, Guapo.” 

Isaac rolled his eyes at the nickname. Neil Morrow had latched onto the compliment upon their first meeting, and he absolutely refused to give up on it. 

“Hey, there. What’s your schedule tonight? Are you free? I need you to help me with something…or, well, someone.” 

Neil chuckled softly, but there was something raw about the sound. “I’m on a week’s leave without pay, thanks, so I’m in. I just got to my apartment.” 

A week would work, but…what? He was going to have to unpack this with Neil more formally later. “Without pay? Sounds like we have something to talk about. But I have to be honest, it’ll have to wait, because this is a bit of an emergency. Can you meet me at Cy’s place? Alain’s going to stay with me for a bit.” 

“Sure, man. No worries. You want me to drive over or not?” 

“Yes, please. We’ll have to pack a suitcase for him. Cy will be gone when we get there, because he had to fly to Texas for a funeral.” Cy said the doorman was expecting them and would let them in. 

“Texas? Like my Texas? Who died?” 

Neil’s Texas. Seriously? 

He could hear the door close, and Neil started heading down the stairs toward the garage. 

“No, Texas, New Jersey. Yes, idiot. Your Texas. One of his clients hung himself. A sub.” Most of Cyrus’s clients were subs. Maybe all of them. 

“Oh fuck. That sucks hard, man. I’m sorry. Seriously. Did the little bit know the guy?” 

It did suck. “I didn’t get that impression. Cyrus had no intention of taking him along. He just doesn’t want Alain to be alone overnight.” He didn’t even know what Alain knew, or how the boy was going to feel about being dragged out of Cyrus’s place. “I hope he’s cool with this. I have no idea.” 

“If he freaks, I’ll call Peter. We hang out quite a bit.” 

“I love that your subby half has little friends,” he teased. He couldn’t help it. Peter was a good boy, and very, very taken. 

“Fuck off, Guapo. You don’t know what to do with me.” Neil’s laughter was warm, and Isaac could see Neil’s expression in his mind’s eye. 

If he was being honest, Neil was the handsome one. But he wasn’t planning on being that kind of honest today. “Oh yes I do. And I’m looking forward to what I get to do with you once we discuss why you’re on leave without pay.” 

His cab stopped at the curb, and he punched the button for a receipt out of habit. He didn’t need it; he wasn’t getting reimbursed for this house call. “I’m here.” 

“I’ll be there in twenty. Don’t scare the kid. He’s just a baby.” 

He rolled his eyes again. “Seriously, Neil? I’m not scary,” he replied, knowing damn well he could be a scary Dom if he wanted to be. Right now though he was just a friend. Maybe a doctor if need be, but mostly a friend. 

“Yeah, right. Terrifying. I’m the good cop. Mostly. See you in a bit.” The phone went dead. 

“Butthead.” He climbed out of his cab and went inside, where the doorman practically fell over himself to make sure he got into the apartment right away. Cyrus must have given him the fear of god or a big tip. Or both. 

Isaac hung his coat up and set his briefcase down in the foyer. Cyrus had a nice place, and this front area was where he greeted his clients so it was formal and tidy. “Alain?” He called out as he made his way down the hall. “It’s Isaac. Master Cyrus said you’d be expecting me.” 

The young man came out, expression more than a bit worried. “Dr. Isaac! La, did you hear? Poor Master Cyrus, losing that poor man.” 

“I know. He’ll be okay though; he’s going where he needs to be. You look good, Alain.” Worried, sure, but stronger. 

“Thank you, Sir. Master Cyrus has been a dear man. He’s taught me a lot, yessir. I’ve been working on finding a job, something good so I ain’t leaning all the time on the good men in my life.” 

“That’s admirable. Do you think you want to wait tables again?” New York restaurants were loud and full of people, and he wondered if Alain was ready for that after everything he’d been through. 

“No, Sir. I was thinking about cooking. I make some good southern food, me. Gumbo, jambalaya, shrimps, muffulettaI know it all.” There was a confidence in the boy now, a tentative happiness that was new and appealing. 

“That sounds great. I remember Peter told me you liked to cook. You should cook for me sometime, I’d love that.” Okay, now for the hard part. “Did Master Cyrus explain what was going on? I need you to pack a bag so you can stay with me for a little while.” 

“He did, yeah. He said he didn’t think I was ready for a weekend all alone.” 

Poor kid. “He cares about you. He just wants to make sure you’re looked after, because that’s what a Dom does, right?” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to a little full-time Dom life for a few days. 

“Yes, Sir, and I’m grateful that you both care about me. Thank you ever so.” So polite. 

And pretty too, with the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. “It’s my pleasure. Let’s get you packed up.” He put a hand on Alain’s shoulder and steered him toward the guest room Alain had been using. 

The room was simple, but comfortable, with a bed and dresser, a green quilt over a rack. Alain seemed to be living out of a duffel instead of the drawers that Cyrus had provided, and it only took seconds to grab hair- and toothbrush. 

“Neil’s coming for us, bringing his truck. We’ll get you settled at my place. My guest room isn’t this big, but it has a nice view. This is…this is everything?” He’d have to talk with Cyrus when the man returned from Texas. 

“It is. There weren’t much left in the apartment, eh, and Peter dealt with what all was there.” Alain offered him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach the dark eyes. “Are you hungry? I can cook you something…” 

Right. Alain and Peter’s apartment had been ransacked after Alain was assaulted at that club. Neil had told him all about it. What an awful thing. It had to make everything feel so much worse. “Thank you, boy, but it’s late. I think we should get you settled in so you can rest. I’ll take you up on that tomorrow night though, how does that sound?” 

“Whatever you need, Sir. I’ll be good as Granny’s couche-couche, hmm?” 

He chuckled as he nodded. “I have no idea what that is, but it sounds dirty.” He assumed it wasn’t, but man… Alain literally spoke another language. 

“Yummy, more. Although, it’s good for a lazy breakfast after getting it on, eh?” 

“That sounds like a good morning to me.” Good Lord. The way Alain said “getting it on” was the next best thing to the actual act. How did Cyrus live with this delicious boy without losing his mind? 

“A la! I hear that. Master Cyrus don’t have no sexy times. He ain’t into me one bit, but he’s been so dear, and me? I learned all the things, I swear.” 

“Master Cyrus is a good man.” A good man with blue balls apparently. “Once you learn things, then you have to go out and use them though. Right? I’m interested in hearing about what you’ve learned.” 

A submissive’s work was Cyrus’s specialty, and that meant addressing someone’s whole self. Helping them figure out what they needed and then giving it to them. 

The buzzer went off in the hall. 

“Oh, that’ll be Neil. Are you almost ready?” He hurried down the hall to tell the doorman to let Neil up. 

“Yes, Sir. You want to meet him down there?” Alain looked so little carrying that big duffel. 

He looked little because he was little. He was like half of Neil. “That’s a good idea.” He hit the intercom. “Ask Neil to wait, please. We’ll be right down.” 

So there, Neil. He thought smugly as they got in the elevator. I didn’t scare him or make him cry. 

The big, buff blond waited at the bottom of the elevator. “Hey, y’all. Lord, give me that duffel, kiddo. You’re gonna collapse under the weight.” 

He’d known Neil would offer to get Alain’s bag, which was why he hadn’t. “Hi.” It was tempting to kiss Neil’s cheek, but things with Neil were…complicated right now. Hell, Neil was complicated all the time. With Alain here, Isaac wasn’t even sure which Neil he was dealing with. The switch was really good at walking that middle line. 

Sometimes they were friends, sometimes Dom and sub, sometimes one or the other with wild benefits. But he wasn’t everything Neil needed. That just wasn’t possible. 

So, no kiss. Just a smile. “Thanks for coming.” 

“Any time.” Neil didn’t look at him, just took the bag, and when Alain gasped, Isaac was totally surprised. 

“Lord have mercy, what happened to you, Jole Blon?” 

“Fistfight. I won.” 

Sure you did. You come from Texas.” 

Won…and lost a week of work without pay. He wasn’t sure he’d call that winning. “Let me see, Neil.” 

“It’s no big deal, Doc…” 

Oh. Doc. That meant stitches. 

“Fine. Take us home. I’ll look at it later.” He didn’t want to argue in front of Alain. Now that he knew Neil was hurt, he didn’t want to argue at all; in fact, he wanted Neil to answer his questions with “Yes, Sir.” But that was going to have to wait until Alain was tucked in. “Car?” 

“Right here.” The big SUV was an extravagance, but Neil used it for work with the Special Victims Division, and at times like these, it came in handy. 

They got Alain settled in the back seat and headed home. “Are you okay? Did you start it?” 

“Seven stitches. He deserved it, and I’d do it again.” Neil’s lip curled. “I hate dirty cops.” 

He sighed. “Neil. You can’t save the whole world by yourself.” How many times had he said that? 

“You gon’ have a neat scar, Officer,” Alain murmured. 

“I can try, though. I can sure as shit try.” 

He rested a hand on Neil’s thigh and let it be. It was too soon; Neil was still too angry. “Alain’s right. You’re going to have a fancy Frankenstein scar.” 

“You’ll check the stitches and make sure they’re right. You always do.” Neil’s huge, bruised hand covered his. 

“I will.” I’ll take care of you. “Alain’s offered to make dinner tomorrow night. I hope you’ll join us.” 

“Sure. I got no plans but watching TV in my apartment for a week. Whatcha cookin’, Cajun?” 

“Couche-couche first, then whatever Mister Doctor Sir asks for.” 

“Yeah? I ain’t had Cajun breakfast in ten hundred years.” Neil chuckled softly. “I don’t know that Doc has cornmeal or a cast iron skillet, kiddo.” 

“Well, that might be the first thing we do tomorrow. Shopping. What do you think, boy? Are you ready to try some food shopping?” He thought maybe he had cast iron, but Neil did all the cooking in his kitchen, so he’d know better. 

“Oh, yes, Sir. I know groceries. I can fix you all whatever.” 

“I’ll leave the menu to you, boy.” Alain seemed happy to be going out. That was good. So tonight he’d deal with Neil, and tomorrow the boys would have a nice day. He glanced at Neil. “You know where to park.” 

“I do. It’s almost like I’ve been here once before.” Someone was pushing hard, daring him to take control and give Neil what he needed. 

“Then you know what to expect,” he replied. He didn’t snap, but his tone was a bit curt. Dry. Don’t test me in front of Alain, boy. Had he known Neil was going to be a handful, he might have handled his evening differently. But here they were, and he would deal it. He refused to let Neil ruffle his feathers while Alain was watching. 

“I do.” Neil chuckled softly and parked the SUV. “I swear, my head’s so big I’m going to explode with a terrifying kaboom.” 

“I’ll have a look at it. You get some ice and some Tylenol when we get inside, please.” He got out of the cop-mobile, grateful for his long legs, and opened the door for Alain, who climbed down like he was scaling Mount Kilimanjaro. 

Neil stepped out and went around to pull out Alain’s duffel, hauling it up on his shoulder. 

It was strange to be more concerned about Neil than Alain at the moment. Alain had recovered well from his assault physically, and it seemed like time with Cyrus had really helped him emotionally too. He and Neil had had long discussions themselves at the time to get past their own anger that someone could try to claim to be in their community and abuse a boy so terribly. Neil had saved the world then too and put the men responsible behind bars. 

He’d never asked what condition those assholes had been in when they arrived at the station. He really hadn’t needed to. 

“Alain, the guest room is here.” He stopped in the hall. “It’s pretty small. There are sheets in that chest against the back wall.” 

“It’s perfect, Mister Doctor. Thank you for letting me stay. I surely appreciate you.” God, that voice was sweet, lilting, and Isaac liked the way it reminded him of music. 

“I’m glad to have you. It will be good to catch-up.” He stepped aside to let Neil put the duffel down on the bed, then caught his sometimes sub by the arm. “Tylenol. Ice. Did you eat?” 

“Not since last night. Spaghetti.” Neil let him look, the stitches starting near his eye and leading across his temple, the gunpowder stippling obvious. 

Someone had shot at Neil, at close range. 

He swallowed hard against the sick feeling in his stomach and caught Neil by the nape, finding the hazel eyes and looking into them. He didn’t hide his frown or his worry and tried to say something, anything. He couldn’t find the right words, and gave up, pulling Neil into a tight hug. 

Neil trembled in his arms, arms wrapping around to hold him tight, and that spoke volumes, those heavily muscled arms keeping him close. 

“Jesus, Neil.” He told himself he was allowed to be upset for a minute. That gunpowder was fucking terrifying, and he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t. “I’ve got you. You’re okay now.” 

Alain was doing his best to look invisible, sitting on the end of the bed with his nose in some magazine Isaac had obviously left there. Such a good boy. He wondered if he should ask Alain to throw something together for Neil after all. 

“Let me stay a minute?” Neil whispered, the sound so very soft. “Please, Sir?” 

“You’re staying the night, boy. I insist.” That was that. Neil had been clear, finally, so the rest was up to him. “Alain, could I trouble you to make something easy on the stomach for Neil, please? Just help yourself to my kitchen.” 

“Yes, Sir!” Alain’s face lit up. “I’m on it. Poor chou. That looks like it hurt.” 

“I’m okay, kiddo. Don’t you worry.” 

“I’ll cook. You’ll be so good. You see.” Alain grinned at them both and slipped past them into the hall. 

“The kitchen is at the far end.” 

Alain nodded and hurried down the hall. 

Isaac let Neil go but kept hold of one hand. “Let’s sit. I want to know what happened.” 

 

Title: Wholly Trinity
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09RLMLV4G

Keeping Promises

Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: Higher Elevation #3
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: March 23, 2021
Pages: 262

Keeping Promises

Jeremy M. Dunn III has the single dad thing down, so the last thing he wants to do is call his ex-husband to ask for help with their two kids. They didn’t part on good terms, and they’ve barely spoken since the divorce. But with a cast on his arm that goes up past his elbow, Jeremy has no choice. He needs a few days to figure out how to bathe their daughter, make school lunches and parent their son one-armed, and there isn’t anyone else he can ask for help.

Former rodeo cowboy West Belen was already on his way back to his kids, and to Trey (“the third”, his nickname for Jeremy). He made a promise to try again, and he means to keep it, so when he sees his chance to move back into his family’s life, he grabs it like the brass ring he knows it is. He’s determined to be more than an “every other weekend” dad to his children, and he doesn’t want to keep on living with regret about how he and Trey ended.

Jeremy still desires West, but he isn’t sure he can trust West to be responsible and available. West still thinks Trey is the hottest thing he’s ever seen, but he has no idea how to convince the man he’s ready to settle down. The two of them have never had trouble butting heads, but now they need to learn to work together to make a home for themselves and their kids where they both belong.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Barnes & Noble~~Publisher~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

 

Excerpt

 

Chapter One

“Kiddo. Kiddo, you awake?” Hank’s voice jolted West upright from where he’d been dozing in the old recliner he’d moved near the hospital bed they’d put in the sunroom so Hank could see out the window and watch the hummingbirds.

“Yessir. You hurtin’? I can get Gretchen.” The little hospice nurse was on it. She lived two houses down, too, so it took her no time to show up.

“No. No, I just wanted to talk to you.” The hand that had been whole and strong three weeks ago was a sack of bruised bones, and West took it so carefully.

“Anytime. Anytime at all.” Hank had been his best friend, his mentor, his adopted father for as long as he could remember, and time was getting short. They could both sleep when Hank was dead.

“You’re a good man.” Hank stared at him, gray eyes seeming to blaze with light, and West thought maybe that was what happened when the best of them was being called home.

“I try. I’m not feeling all the way on that, you know.”

Hank shook his head. “No. You’ve been dealt some shit, but you have managed it. All of it.”

What was he supposed to say to that? “Thank you.”

“If you could go back and change anything in your life, what would it be?”

He rolled his eyes at Hank. “I would have bet on me two years ago in the finals.”

Hank swatted his hand. “I’m serious, boy. Tell me. It ain’t like I’m telling.”

West took a deep breath. He knew the answer to this one. He’d known it for two years, two months, three weeks, and four days. “I would have told Trey no when he asked for a divorce. I would have stuck like a burr and kept my kids and my husband and damn the consequences.”

Hank bobbed his head at him like a big, dying bird. “I hear you. I couldn’t have had a family like y’all did. I never will now.”

Shit. He didn’t say anything to that because he didn’t have anything to say. Hell, he’d lost his whole life—his kids, his husband, his house. He was working a job that was Friday through Sunday, and those were the days he could see Lukas and Ava. He got to keep his truck, his child support payments, and the knowledge that his ex hated him enough to make sure he had to choose between rodeoing or his babies.

Shit, why did he even want Trey back?

He guessed because he loved the son of a bitch.

“So, go make it right.”

West looked up, just utterly confused. “What?”

They were divorced. That meant it was over.

“Go home and fix it. You have a chance. You survived that last bad wreck; you can do this.”

He rubbed the back of his head, that heavy scar back there. “Oh, Hank… Trey don’t want me no more. He hates everything about my life.”

“So change. If you want it—them—bad enough, do what you have to. Those babies need you, even if Jeremy Fancy Pants No Fun doesn’t.”

He started chuckling. Jeremy Fancy Pants No Fun. That was going down in history.

“Promise me, kiddo. Swear you’ll try. Don’t—don’t end up dying with your regrets.”

“Hank—”

“Goddamn it! I’m dying. You give me this. I’m never going to get to see those babies again. Promise me you’ll try.”

“I swear to God. I’ll try.” West felt his face try to crumple, because he didn’t want to figure out how to be a man without the person who taught him how to cowboy up. He kept it together, though, because it was their way. “I promise, Hank.”

“Good boy.” Hank sighed, that light fading as he closed his eyes. “Know that I love you, West Belen. You are my son, just like as if I’d borned you.”

“I love you, Hank. I got your back.” Even though this was a trip West couldn’t make with Hank right now, he was here ’til the bitter end.

“I never doubted that for a second. Just hold my hand a minute and pray for me.”

So West did. All the way until Hank wasn’t holding on anymore.

 

Chapter Two

“You did what?”

Jeremy shook his head and tried not to glare at the nurse fussing with his IV. “Remember I told you I was going to paint the kitchen?”

“Jeremy Dunn the Third versus a cane-back cafe chair.” Drew laughed. “Loser.”

“It has a wobbly front leg.” He’d managed to go thirty-two years without breaking a single fucking bone. He wasn’t pouting. He was not.

Drew snorted, and he could picture the exasperated look on his best friend’s face. “Then why were you standing on it, idiot?”

“Fuck you.”

His nurse gave him the side-eye. “Watch your language, please.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged at her.

“Where are the kids?”

“Annie has them. She’s had them a couple of times before.” He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if his neighbor hadn’t been home.

“She’s keeping them overnight?”

“I—maybe? I’ll be home later today, but it’s my right arm…” Four years of high school sports, rock climbing, and all of his idiotic shenanigans in college, running and mountain biking all over Boulder…and he shattered his elbow falling off a stupid fucking chair.

“Your right arm? Jer, how are you going to—I mean, maybe…” Drew sighed, and Jeremy’s stomach sank as he realized what Drew was going to say before he said it.

“No.” Nope. No way.

Drew sighed. “You have to—”

“I’m not fucking calling him.”

“Jer—”

“What?” He shouted. “Did I hear someone yell ‘shark’? Sorry, what? You have to go? Okay, man. Enjoy your honeymoon, get a great tan.”

“Don’t be an ass, Jeremy.” Drew shouted back over his babbling.

“Talk to you later! Bye!”

He hung up.

Yep. He hung up on his best friend for not quite suggesting that he call his ex-husband for help with their kids.

Because he knew Drew was right.

Jesus, he’d gone off the deep end.

He looked at his phone. It was great of Annie to take them for the night, but she wasn’t going to keep the kids long. She had a life and four hundred boyfriends and a day job.

West was their father after all, and it wasn’t like Jeremy had asked him for anything since the divorce. Nothing. Ever. Maybe West could come take them for a few days until he figured out how to scratch his butt with his nearly useless left hand.

He pulled up West’s number and frowned at the picture, feeling sick that he still thought that smiling vortex of chaos in a cowboy hat was handsome.

“Fuck.” He hit the number and dialed.

“Trey.” No hello, no what’s wrong, just that nickname that he hated.

“Hey.” He could hang up. Say he butt dialed West by mistake. The idea of asking his ex for a favor was making the bile rise in the back of his throat. But he tried to imagine giving four-year-old Ava a bath left-handed while trying to keep from jostling his right arm and decided he was going to have to suck it up. Fuck. “So…listen, have you got plans the next couple of days?”

“Why? What’s wrong? Are the kids okay?” West’s voice was sharp, clear, and focused. God, he remembered being the center of that focus.

“Yes, they’re fine. I’m… I’m in the ER.” He let that hang out there a second since West hadn’t asked if he was okay.

“I’ll be there in four hours. I was doing a signing in Raton.” West’s voice got quiet. “I got to bounce. Family emergency. Yeah. See you.” Then West was back. “What’s wrong?”

A signing. Still in the limelight. Some things never changed.

“I broke my elbow.” I got into a fight with a rabid dog… I was barreling down this crazy trail on my bike… I went rock climbing and man, it was a close one. “I…fell off a fucking chair.” He rolled his eyes. Drew was right; he was an idiot.

“That hurts like a motherfucker.” West didn’t laugh, but Jeremy knew that bastard was grinning. “Who has my babies?”

Asshole. West had broken every bone in his goddamn body. Twice. “Our children are with Annie, next door. I’ll text you her number if you want it. They’ll be fine with her for a while.”

“Okay, good. Do you need a ride home, or should I just come to the house?”

“Let me know when you get up here, and we’ll see if I’m home yet.” Annie had a key, but no way was West going to wander around his house and pack up the kids unsupervised. His lawn might get mowed, but the kids would be covered in mud, and there’d be no beer left.

“Fine. I’ll see you in a few.” And just like that, the line went dead. Infuriating asshole. Seriously, if Jeremy hadn’t needed him…

“Ow!” He dropped his phone.

“Sorry. I need to get your sling fitted.” The nurse picked his phone up and handed it to him.

“Thanks. Sure.” He nodded and sat up so she could reach, the simple move making him a little dizzy. He tried to text Annie’s details to West, but texting with one hand, and left-handed at that, was a pain in the ass and it took him forever.

“Jeremiah M. Dunn, the Third.” A doctor came in, grinning broadly and reading his full fucking given name off an iPad. “That’s quite a name.”

“It was my father’s.” Ha-ha. So funny. “Jeremy works.”

“Jeremy. Got it. How are you getting home today?”

Fuck.

Title: Keeping Promises
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B08Y5GY7GF
ISBN13: 978-1951011437

 

Keeping Promises is available in AUDIO, narrated by the amazing John Solo!

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Cowboys and Cupcakes

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Merry Everything Series #3
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: November 21, 2023

Cowboys and Cupcakes is an opposites attract, hurt/comfort romance featuring a wounded warrior who’s former bull rider, an eccentric pastry chef , and the magic of New York City at the holidays.

Baker Jax Martinez works odd hours making cupcakes and cookies in his New York apartment. It’s a skill he learned from his grandparents, who raised him in a bakery of their own, and he’s never wanted to do anything else. His strange schedule makes it hard to have friends and a social life, but he’s an introvert so the occasional Sunday dinner with his best friend January is enough for him.

Sawyer McMahon joined the army to leave behind everyone and everything he knew after losing the cowboy he loved in a horrific rodeo accident. After nearly losing his own life as a soldier overseas, he’s not sure what’s next for him. His old rodeo buddy Hawk Destry, who has had to deal with a disability of his own, offers Saw a place to stay for a while in New York and he takes it, hoping Hawk can help him get his recovery on track.

It’s an instant friendship when Jax finds an excuse to rescue Saw from an overwhelming moment, and they discover quickly that they want to be more. Their issues and quirks seem to fit together in a strange and complicated way, but neither of them has thought much beyond the present moment. Could they actually have a future together? Or are they destined to be just friends?

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Chapter 1
 

 

Jax Martinez sat on the counter in his tiny kitchen and glared at Casper. They were supposed to be making profiteroles for Sunday, but the dough hadn’t really gotten doughy, and the eggs had made the mixture soppy instead of something he could squeeze through his pastry bag. What had happened? He didn’t get it. They’d made them a million times. 

Like, a million-million times. 

Maybe he put in too much butter? Maybe he didn’t cook it on the stove long enough. Maybe it was bad luck. 

He had a lot of bad luck. 

It was Saturday, and on Saturdays, he had pizza and watched a movie on TV. That had been his plan anyway, until the profiteroles didn’t work out. 

“What the hell, Casper?” He glared harder, wishing his food processor could actually understand how annoyed he was. It wouldn’t, of course, because it was an object and objects didn’t think at all, but they should know when they weren’t behaving the way he wanted them to. 

“You don’t love me anymore,” he said and hopped down off the counter. He didn’t expect a response. Food processors were kind of the strong silent types. “You can just sit there by yourself for a while and think about what you’ve done.” 

So there. 

He left the kitchenwhich took him about three stepsand picked up his cell phone to order delivery. He’d have his pizza and then he’d clean up and try again later. He’d made lots of sweets at midnight, or at four in the morning. He liked baking in the middle of the night. 

Just as he was dialing, a doorbell sound rang, making him grin. That was his buddy Jan’s ringtone. January Bell. Dumb as hell but the pun made him giggle every time. He tapped on Jan’s text. 

Hawk is at the airport picking someone up. Want to come for dinner about six? 

Dinner? Surely Jan knew he was a very busy man and couldn’t just drop everything and go out for dinner. 

I could eat, he texted back and went to find his shoes. He just needed to clean up the kitchen. 

Wait. 

He stopped short outside his bedroom door. Hawk was at the airport? He looked at the text again, and then dialed Jan. 

Jan was laughing as he answered. “Did you forget how to get here?” 

“How is Hawk picking somebody up at the airport?” Hawk Destry was a former bull riding champion and the bravest guy Jax had ever met. Hot too. Jan was a lucky bastard. But Hawk didn’t see so well. As in the guy was legally blind. 

“Ever heard of a taxi? It’s this yellow thing that— 

“Ha. Ha, ha.” Jax snorted. “By himself?” 

“Sure. He has Buck with him.” 

“You let him go alone.” Hawk’s service dog was smart as hell, but January wasn’t fooling him. 

“He’s a grown man, Jax. I didn’t let him do anything. He insisted.” Jan sounded a little defensive now. 

“Ah.” Uh-huh. Now he got it. 

“What?” 

“How worried are you? 

Jan laughed. “Well, it’s his first time going to the airport alone. But I’m not really worried, I’mI’m kind of—okay, I’m fucking worried.” 

“I’ll be right over.”

Title: Cowboys and Cupcakes
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0CMJR8L33
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-92-5

New Tricks

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #4
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: May 21, 2024

Kit Swann is starting over when he moves himself and his miniatures business to New York. Living on his own in the city can be lonely, so he starts watching the local gay bar from the coffee shop across the street, and he finally decides to take a chance on it, working up the courage to go inside.

Elijah Russo has been looking for a full-time lifestyle partner for a long time. So long he’s ready to give up on finding someone who can be everything he needs. He thinks Kit might be the one, but he knows Kit is inexperienced with some of his specific requirements.

While they learn to love each other, they must also navigate Elijah’s insecurity, Kit’s big secret, and the trauma left by the accident that left Kit a widower. If they’re going to bring their very different lives together, they’ll have to teach each other some new tricks.

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Chapter 1

How many bars had Kit walked into? 

It had to be a hundred, maybe more. Shit, definitely more. 

Honky-tonks on the bull-riding circuit. Dive bars when Kit was hunting a cheap drunk. Gay bars to get laid, to dance. 

Speakeasies and upscale lounges which had master mixologists with Ron. 

That thought made him grin. Jesus, Ron had been addicted to fancy-assed spaces with cushy sofas and perfectly coiffed cocktail waiters. 

This place, though? Man, it was just a friendly neighborhood gay bar—masculine and relaxed right now, but he could see the lights and mirrors, and he knew it wasn’t always that way. 

It was a weeknight, so he wasn’t surprised to find the dance floor empty. The tiny little raised platform probably meant there was live music sometimes, or comedians or something. 

He caught a quick view of himself in the mirrors along the dance floor but didn’t look too hard. Mirrors were for watching and flirting, and he was just here for a drink. 

“Welcome!” A tall man behind the bar called out over the music and gave him a friendly wave. The place was lively but not crowded, with most people—men—sitting in booths talking and drinking. 

“Hey, there. How’s it going?” He just wanted a beer, or maybe a whiskey neat, he thought. Something he could sip and sit with. 

“Well. Very well.” The man’s dark eyes seemed to swallow up the light over the bar. “And yourself? Out wandering on this beautiful night?” 

“Yes, sir. I’m new to town, and I saw this place from the coffee shop across the way. Looked friendly.” And he was friendly, mostly. Except when he wasn’t, he guessed. “What’s y’all’s specialty?” 

“Tonight, good whiskey and local beer on tap. On the weekends, we tend more toward vodka drinks in colors that don’t appear in nature.” The bartender set a glass on the bar and poured out a Jameson’s whisky before pushing the glass in his direction. “Welcome to New York. That one’s on me.” 

“Well thank you, sir.” He held out one hand to shake after slipping a twenty in the tip jar. “Kit. Kit Swann.” 

“Lester Gray. Les, like the neon says.” Les winked at him, and his handshake was firm and confident. “Where did you move up from?” 

“Northeast Texas, originally, but my last home of record was Monterey, California.” Lord, the owner. How cool was that? “You got yourself a nice place here.” 

“Thank you. It’s home. But I’ve been to Monterey. It’s gorgeous. I can’t imagine leaving if I lived there.” 

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous. The ocean is amazing.” And he was never going back. Not so long as he lived. 

Les gave him a nod, and he appreciated that the man seemed to know when to stop asking questions. “New York can be beautiful too, especially in the spring. If you can handle the rain, May and June are blue skies and flowers in the park and sparkling views of the river. You’ll get to like it once you understand it.” 

“I’m loving it. It’s so different, and there’s so much to do and see. I’ve eaten at a different restaurant every night.” 

“That’s a great start. The food is as diverse as the city. Do you have a place? What do you do for work?” 

“I have an apartment right around the block. It’s lovely, and I’ve got enough room to have a workspace. I’m a woodworker, of sorts.” A teeny tiny one. 

“Oh, yeah? That’s interesting. Like a carpenter? They’re in demand for sure.” 

“Sort of. I make upscale miniatures for collectors, movie sets, photographers, that sort of thing.” He’d started it as a hobby while he was job hunting in California and had discovered a real knack for it. He especially enjoyed making replicas of ornate pieces. He could lose himself for hours. 

“That sounds very cool. It’s different. Movie sets, huh? Oh. Excuse me a second.” 

Les pulled his phone out of his pocket, looked at the screen, and took a couple of steps away. 

“Hello, boy. Oh? And Master Cyrus is okay with this plan? You have my permission, but I need you at the bar by noon tomorrow, Milo… I know… I love you too. Be good. Good night.” 

Do not stare. 

Don’t. 

Do not embarrass yourself or this nice man. 

He wanted to, though, because he’d seen well, he’d studied a lot. Fiction. Nonfiction. Blogs. Everything he could get his hands on. 

He’d never actually met anyone into BDSM, and maybe he still hadn’t, but he wasn’t going to be rude, regardless. 

He was going to sip his whiskey and chill. 

“Sorry about that. Some calls I have to take. You doing okay on that whiskey?” 

Of course he hadn’t noticed the silver key around Les’s neck until just now. 

“Yes, sir, and no problem. I’m just sitting a spell.” And he didn’t have that particular type of call anymore. 

He had, though. He’d had some amazing calls with Ron. 

Les leaned on the bar. “So you saw my place from the coffee shop, hm? How long were you checking it out before you came in?” 

“A couple of days.” He’d wanted to see who came in and out, and he’d enjoyed telling himself stories while he’d people watched. “It was interesting to see all your clientele.” 

“I bet.” Les snorted. “We get quite a range. I’m pretty proud of that actually, that pretty much anyone can be comfortable here.” 

“It’s got a good energy. Y’all pretty busy on the weekend?” He’d probably not try that for a bit, but maybe. Maybe just to be in the midst of all the excitement. 

“Very busy.” Les smiled and looked around the place. “The dance floor is open, there’s a band or a DJ, and I usually staff three bartenders, a couple of bar-backs, and at least one busboy. And if there is any excuse for a party, I’ll find it.” 

“Wow!” Yeah, he’d be a once or twice on a weekday patron. “Good for you. I know it’s tough, running a place.” 

“It used to be when I was trying to get it off the ground. There were a lot of sleepless nights and long days. But I have a good crew now—loyal, hard-working—and I love all the weekend chaos. It’s just who I am.” 

“Go you! It’s a thing, right? Know thyself?” Kit used to know himself, but he had changed, on a cellular level, so he was still working that out. 

“To the extent that one can, yes. We all change and grow… I assume that’s what you’re trying to do, moving three thousand miles across the country.” 

He might as well be honest, right? He nodded and took a deep breath. “I lost my husband two years ago. I needed to figure out who I am now that I’m not his other half.” 

Les sighed. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I apologize.” 

“No. No, it’s okay. He wasn’t a secret. I’m sure I’ll mention him a lot.” He wasn’t ashamed of being a widower. He’d been well-loved. 

Les nodded. “I’m sure I’d love to hear about him.” 

“That’s the kindest thing anyone has said to me in a while.” Even if it wasn’t true, it was a lovely sentiment. 

“I’m a barman. I listen for a living; I like to hear stories and get to know people.” 

Kit chuckled and nodded to Les, tipping his glass. He didn’t even know where to start. “Ron was a software designer and brilliant. He was killed in a drive-by shooting near his office. He never even felt it. He was a great guy, and I loved him a lot.” 

“Damn. That’s a lot. I can’t imagine that happening to someone I love. My boy Milo? That would be devastating.” 

“It’s tough.” But he’d survived it. “So that’s why I left the West Coast. He was everywhere. Absolutely everywhere I looked.” 

Ron had hated the East Coast, so Kit was here. 

“I understand.” Something about Les made him believe that was true. “Can I offer you another splash?” 

“Just one, please. I have to find my way back home.” He winked at Les, then rolled his eyes dramatically. Like he was a lightweight. 

Les gave him a healthy pour in his glass. “Not to worry. I’m an expert at calling my guests an Uber. And I do hope you come back soon; I think you’ll find friends here, and I’m sure Ron would want that for you.” 

“He would. He would have loved this place. I’m glad to have met you, sir. Honestly.” He would be back. 

 

Title: New Tricks
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0D2WV6534

Bigger Than Us

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Higher Elevation #4
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: November 23, 2021
Pages: 240

Bigger Than Us

When Daniel McCaverty gets the call that his best friend and mentor up in Vermont has cancer, he expects to have plenty of time to go help. He never expects that Adam will be gone before he gets there, or that he will suddenly be in charge of Adam’s two small children. He’s a loner, an artist, and a wanderer. What’s he supposed to do now?

Mitchell Brown is a white-collar kind of guy. Organized. Careful. He has a plan in place for Adam’s kids long before Daniel arrives, and is shocked when Daniel is given custody. But for Vicky and Emory, he’s willing to put his hurt and confusion aside to help Daniel figure things out, to make the whole situation work.

Daniel and Mitch have to deal with a tidal wave of grief while getting one kid started in school, and keeping up with their work. But they’re going to have to figure out their unexpected attraction to each other if they’re going to build something together that’s bigger than either one of them alone.

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Chapter One 

 

“Jesus, Adam.” Daniel McCaverty had made it through the five a.m. flight from the Sunport, through Dallas and O’Hare. He’d made it through baggage here in Burlington and through the fucking line at Enterprise. He’d managed to drive about a mile before he looked around this place that was familiar but not, and had to pull over, sobbing against the steering wheel while the radio played. 

Daniel hadn’t understood when Adam had called last month and said, “Kiddo, I’ve got cancer”. He’d thought, oh, surgery and chemo and radiation. It would be tough with the kids, but he could come out after he’d delivered his last canvases. He would help for a few weeks and, one day, they would laugh together over how Adam’s thick black and silver hair had been gone during that terrible time. 

That was what was supposed to happen. 

Not a phone call early in the week that he’d missed because he was up on Angel Fire, and there was no signal. And then when he’d called back three days later, scared at Adam’s voice, Adam’s words, Adam’s goodbye, it was over. 

Fuck him. He hadn’t understood. 

Adam had told him not to worry. 

He never once thought Adam would actually die. 

After the storm had passed, Daniel pulled back onto the road, making the trip to Adam’s neat house. He’d helped Adam and Tina with adding a bathroom and another bedroom one summer. Another year, they’d put the deck on. He’d painted the nurseryfirst with Adam and Tina, then with Adam alone. 

Little Vicki would know him, but the baby? Shit, he’d been brand new before Daniel had left to work for a few months. 

“What the fuck happened, Adam? Seriously. Nobody dies from cancer anymore! It’s all about surviving. Don’t you fucking watch commercials?” His words echoed in the car, and he rocked with the intensity of them. 

He could almost hear Adam snort at him, saying “You can’t believe everything you see on TV, Dan-O.” 

Yeah. Yeah, like he even owned a TV. That was what he got for trying to be ironic. 

He pulled into the long driveway, the Escalade rumbling through the ruts. Someone needed to grade this before winter. 

The trees around Adam’s place were turning colors, some of them already orange and red like fire. That, he’d seen before, but Daniel hardly recognized the man sitting on the front steps. It had to be Mitch Brown underneath the beard and the baseball hat, but the last time he’d seen Adam’s business partner, Mitch had been clean-cut and in a sharp suit and tie. 

Damn. 

He probably looked like a wild man. He hadn’t bothered to change from his work clothes, and his jeans were spattered with paint. Daniel parked and opened the door of the SUV. “Mitch? Hey. IHey.” 

Mitch looked up and stood slowly. 

“Uncle Daniel!” Little Victoria dropped the hula hoop she’d been playing with and ran toward him full tilt. 

“Vicki. Baby girl. C’mere.” He opened his eyes, the sweet little black curls shining in the fading sun. “I missed your pretty face.” 

“You came! Daddy said he had to go, but that you would come, and you did!” She squeezed him tight, little five-year-old arms circling his neck. 

“Of course I came.” He should have come earlier. Sooner. Weeks ago. He blinked hard, fighting his tears. 

Mitch cleared his throat. “I guess you had a long trip. Would you like some coffee? Vicki, baby, why don’t you take Uncle Daniel to the porch? 

“I started at three this morning. Coffee is great. I don’tI’m sorry, man. Y’all had been friends a long time.” 

“Yeah. Um…yeah. Not as long as you. I know thisit was pretty shocking andhard.” 

“Uncle Mitch fixed the porch swing.” Vicki pulled on his hand, tugging him toward the porch. “Emory is napping. He sleeps all the time. Babies do that, but it’s boring.” 

“They do, and it is. Do you still like those genie toys? I have a color book of them in my backpack.” 

“For me?” Vicki smiled at him like he’d hung the moon, as if she hadn’t just lost her father. Five had to be so complicated. 

“Yeah, for you. I’ll grab them in a second.” He’d brought a suit bag and his backpack. 

“Have a seat, I’ll get us some coffee.” Mitch disappeared into the house, leaving him there with Vicki. 

“Did you know my daddy died?” 

“Yes, ma’am. I just found out last night. I came straight away.” 

“He was really sick. He slept a lot, like Emory.” Vicki climbed up on the porch swing. “He missed you though. He told me so. I knew you’d come.” 

“He was my best friend, and you’re my god-girl. Of course, I came.” Jesus, Adam. Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? 

She patted the swing next to him and leaned hard once he sat. “Good.” She sighed and flopped over, lying her head in his lap. 

She was asleep by the time Mitch came back with two mugs of coffee. “She’s been waiting for you. Adam’s” Mitch bit his lips together and shook his head, handing him a mug before sitting in a rocking chair. “The promise was important to her.” 

“I came as soon as I knew. I had no idea it was so bad.” 

“Well, to be fair I don’t think he really believed it would be so fast.” Mitch’s voice was rough and dry. Anyone could see how tired he was. “I should have just called. He wanted to do it himself, but I should have. It’s just that I was here with the kids and helping him deal with his doctors and I… I’m sorry.” 

“I am too. I would have come to help. You have to know that. I would have come.” He wasn’t a shit. He loved Adam and these kids to death. 

“You know Adam. He was private, and he didn’t even like me helping. I think he wanted people to remember him healthy.” Mitch sipped his coffee and tugged his ball cap down lower. “This isso fucked up.” 

“Yes. More than. Did heis your business stuff okay?” He knew Mitch and Adam had run an advertising agency, but that was really all he knew about that. 

Mitch shook his head. “I don’t know. We have good people working for us, so I’m going to hope, but these last few weeks I haven’t… I checked out of work.” 

“I can only imagine.” He sort of wanted to give the guy a hug. More than that, he wanted to leave, find a hotel room and drink. He wouldn’t, because obviously Mitch had been working his ass off dealing with shit and needed a hand, but that didn’t alter his wanting. 

“I’m just going to try to look ahead now. The kids need that. I need to get them a new routine. It’s a couple of weeks late but I can still get Vicki into kindergarten, and I guess I’ll find a nanny for Emory. They need some stability. Then I can get my head back to work.” 

“Wow. Kindergarten? Already? She’s just so little…” Surely she wasn’t that old yet, right? 

“I know, but she turned five in July. I remember Adam saying at one point that he was going to sign her up but hedidn’t.” Mitch glanced at him under the brim of his hat. “So, how’s the…your art going?” 

“It’s good. I got my last show in on time.” He always felt weird talking about his paintings. He always had. It just felt strange. 

“So that’s going on now, without you there?” 

“Yes. My manager deals with the sales and the galleries. I just paint the canvases. I spend most of my time searching for the right environment to inspire.” It was an oversimplification, but it was still true. 

“Sounds nice. Where did you fly in from?” 

“Albuquerque. I was up on Angel Fire. I called as soon as I got signal. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have” He wouldn’t have missed saying goodbye. 

“I was with him when he called you. He said he knew you were busy doing what you loved. It made him smile. He didn’t” Mitch cleared his throat, and when he spoke again his voice was even rougher than before. “He didn’t call anyone else. Just you. I’m sorry, I haven’t really processed any of this, I justthese kids are so important. I’m just a little tired.” 

“It’s okay. You can bewhatever you need to be. I’m serious. You can feel whatever you have to.” He didn’t know how else to do it. 

Mitch glanced up, blue eyes searching his. He wondered what they were looking for. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I do.” 

Daniel stroked Vicki’s hair. “You poor baby. You had to lose both your folks, didn’t you? Well, you got people that love you more than the world. Don’t you worry.” 

Adam had obviously intended for Mitch to take the kids, so he’d send money and stay as long as they needed. He wouldn’t let them hurt for anything. 

“It sucks. It just sucks. But they have me. You. Friends. They have people. I didn’t.” 

The baby started wailing somewhere inside the house. “Emory. He’ll be hungry.” Mitch hauled himself out of his chair. 

“Do you need help?” He wasn’t sure he could move. Hell, he didn’t want to go inside that house. 

“Yes. Stay right there with Victoria.” Mitch touched her cheek, then headed for the front door. “That’s the deepest sleep she’s had in days. I’ll bring Emory out once he’s fed.” 

“Okay.” He swung with her, singing for her, random songs that he knew. He spent a lot of time in life singing along with the radio. This much he could do. 

Title: Bigger Than Us
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09KWNL6P9
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-66-6

Thawed Out

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Merry Everything Series #4
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: November 26, 2024

Thawed Out is an opposites attract, second chance romance featuring an established couple on the edge of divorce, a ferocious snow storm, precocious children and a healthy dose of holiday magic.

Kiren knows there is a storm coming when he goes to the cabin to deliver divorce papers to his husband Flynn, but he doesn’t plan to stay long. He hates that it’s come to this, but they just can’t seem to do anything without arguing anymore. When he finds Flynn looking so skinny and unhappy, he ends up staying to talk.

And maybe to try harder not to break up their family.

Flynn knows Kiren is just as tired as he is. They both work hard. They both take care of their two kids. He doesn’t want to give up, but between his long hours and going to school, he always seems to be in trouble when gets home.

Before they know it, they’re snowed in with nothing but time on their hands. The two of them decide that they don’t want to be frozen in the worst time of their married life. But can they work together to find the balance they need to start again?

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Chapter 1 

 

Kiren sat in his car at the bottom of the winding Cedar Road. He’d been idling for a bit, reading the road sign over and over and working up the nerve to keep going. He glanced at the envelope on the passenger seat again, then sighed and took the right-hand turn toward the cabin where he was meeting his husband. 

His soon to be ex-husband. 

It was hard to believe all their arguing and hurt feelings and drama had been reduced to just a few words on paper. The end of their marriage felt heavy as hell but didn’t look like much. 

He needed this over with. He was worn out. Emotionally, physically, just done. They needed to put this behind them and move on. 

The road was bumpy, tree-lined, and narrow in spots, but in others it was wide and cut through open pastures with amazing views. Usually. Today it was cloudy and really cold, and the visibility was very low. The bumpy road was covered in packed snow. It never got steep enough that he needed chains or anything, but he was glad for his all-wheel drive. 

He finally made it to the cabin and parked in the guest space where his parents parked when they visited. Flynn’s truck, which they usually drove up here as a family, was parked out front. 

He shut the engine off and took a breath, and then another. It wasn’t the papers that had him anxious; it was seeing Flynn. The wild, mixed emotions of the divorce had become so confusing that it actually made his stomach ache. 

Get in, get the signatures, get out. You’ve got this. Easy. 

He took one more breath, dragged the envelope off the passenger’s seat, then climbed out of the car. 

The front door opened, Flynn’s face ashen under his tan. He’d gotten damn near gaunt in the last year, and his flannel shirt and jeans drowned him. “Is everything all right with the kids?” 

He sighed. In Flynn’s defense—for all that Flynn didn’t need defending—cell service was spotty up here even in good weather. “They’re fine. I texted you.” He waved the envelope. “Papers.” 

“Jesus.” Flynn stared at him a second then turned to head back in the house. “I guess it’s fitting.” 

Fitting? What the fuck did that mean? 

He was going to be sorry he did this, wasn’t he? He should have just waited for Flynn to come back from hibernating in the mountains or whatever the fuck he was doing up here alone and let the lawyers handle everything. Hell, he could have just sent a courier up here. 

But no, the one thing Flynn was right about was that he could be a bit of control freak. He knew that much about himself. He needed this done, and the best way to make sure was to do it himself. 

He snorted as he climbed the steps. Maybe that was what Flynn meant by fitting. 

Touché. 

Fuck. 

He opened the screen door just after it slammed shut behind Flynn and went inside. 

Flynn headed straight for the kitchen and the coffee pot, pulling out a second mug before filling them. 

“Do you have a little cream?” Flynn hadn’t gone far. The kitchen was tiny and open to the living space. “I’m not staying long.” 

“I do. No? You’re going to have to wait for me to read everything, so you can drink a cup of coffee.” 

“Mhm.” And they didn’t have to talk while Flynn was reading. He took the mug from Flynn, trading it for the envelope and took a sip. Flynn made a good cup of coffee. “Take your time.” 

He wandered around with his mug, noting the tequila on the kitchen counter and the blanket and pillow on the couch. He stopped to look at the pictures hanging on the wall. A couple of them were family pictures from Flynn’s grandfather, but most of them were of just two of them, or of Jasper and Cassidy when they were tiny. 

Good memories. 

God, he hated this. 

Flynn’s grandfather had willed him this cottage, and Flynn adored it. 

It wasn’t muchone bedroom, a huge front room, a kitchenette, and a bathroom with a tub filled from the cistern and a composting toilet. The electricity was solar, so it was a little touch and go, and the heat was a pellet stove, but it was remote, the deck was to die for, and it was the quietest place he’d ever been. 

He’d always loved it here, but not today. Today it felt like hell on earth. There wasn’t enough air in the place. 

“I should—you want me to take a little walk?” 

Flynn’s eyebrow went up, lips tightening, and he could almost hear the snarling words that had to be zipping through the man’s head. “Whatever turns you on, babe.” 

Well, fuck, He’d thought Flynn would appreciate the space, but now? Now, he needed it. “Uh-huh.” He zipped his coat back up, picked up his coffee, and stomped out the back door into the cold. 

It was really cold. He pulled his hood up and zipped his coat even higher. It was pretty out here though; the woods were snowy and it was still and quiet. His coffee was going to get cold fast out here, so he took a big sip. 

The wind was beginning to blow, and the sun didn’t want to filter down through the trees, not even a bit. 

He thought about texting Mom or maybe Walt, just to get some sympathy, but he had no signal. Dammit. 

He tried to check the weather too, but no luck there either; the wheel just spun and spun and nothing ever loaded. No matter, he’d be leaving shortly, and if he really needed to know, there was a radio in the cabin somewhere. He’d go back in soon. He wasn’t sure he trusted Flynn not to leave him standing out here just for the amusement factor. 

He’d probably do the same. 

He stepped off the wide deck and walked along the path Flynn had shoveled like always. It went out into the woods a bit to a firepit and some log benches. It also went all the way around the cabin, which was great when the kids needed somewhere to run. 

By the time he got back his fingers were pretty well frozen, so he stomped the snow off his boots and stepped out of them as he came back inside. 

“Mm. Warm in here.” 

“Yeah. It’s chilly today. We have to talk about this. I’m not letting the kids go for half the summer.” 

But he had summers off. This kept them out of daycare for five weeks. “Wait. What? Why not? We definitely talked about this. I’m off in the summer.” 

“I’m not going without them for weeks at a time. I can’t, and I’m not going to give in on it.” 

He understood; he wouldn’t want to either, but it was practical. “Flynn, it just makes sense. It’s not ideal, okay, I know, but I can be home. It will save us money, and we can plan vacations. It’s only half the summer.” 

“Okay, then I want winter and spring break and all the school holidays.” 

Flynn was just being spiteful now. “Spring break, fine. The rest—you’re out of your mind. We’re trading off.” 

“So what? You get the babies for five weeks, and I get one in exchange?” Flynn shook his head. “How the fuck is that reasonable?” 

“Because you do shift work, and you need to find childcare in the summer, and I don’t. If we split the cost of summer care, we’re saving money. Or doesn’t money matter to you anymore?” Was it fair? Maybe not. But it was practical. 

“Oh fuck you! You think I’m busting my fucking ass to get my physician’s assistant’s license for fun? I started this so you could keep your fucking dream job with the students!” That was the most fire he’d seen from Flynn in a year. 

He used to love it when Flynn was passionate about something. But he lowered his tone because he couldn’t take the yelling anymore and went back to the coffee maker without looking at Flynn. “Wow. Pardon me. I thought this license was something you wanted. My dream job happens to be the job I have; I didn’t know I needed to apologize for that.” 

Flynn slapped one hand on the table, making the coffee cup jump and rattle. “Seriously? You’re going to be all… I left the circuit because we wanted kids. I worked nights at the ER because of the money. I started school so that I could keep the salary and work days. I’m fucking tired, man!” 

He jumped, startled enough by the sound that his heart was pounding, then turned and stared at Flynn, not bothering lower his voice this time. “Right. How could I forget that you’re the only one who has sacrificed for our children? You’re always reminding me! Meanwhile, I obviously have plenty of time, plenty of money, and am totally well rested! Lucky fucking me.” 

If he wasn’t driving he’d grab that bottle of tequila. 

“I know we took a hit on the money. It was for two motherfucking years. You couldn’t have my back for two years?” 

“I did have you back for two years, Flynn. Jesus Christ.” He sighed and turned back to the coffee maker. “Fine. We’ll share the summer. Just write in whatever you want, and I’ll have the lawyers fix it. I can’t… I just can’t do this. I can’t argue anymore.” He was exhausted too. Just completely out of spoons. “Whatever you want.” 

“I want my fucking life back!” The coffee cup went flying, smashing on the floor as Flynn stormed out, the entire cabin shaking. 

“Fuck.” Me too. 

He watched the coffee run across the floor and sighed. It would be a shame if it made it over to the little rug Flynn’s grandmother made. He looked found a broom and a towel to clean up, then threw all the pieces in the garbage. 

The divorce papers were still on the table, and he didn’t touch them. 

He lit a lantern, hating how dark it was, but it was the longest night of the year, so… 

The door opened up, Flynn’s arms filled with wood, his lips blue. 

“Jesus. Are you okay? Put that down.” Kiren grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, helped Flynn put the wood in the holder, then sat him in a chair near the stove and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. “I’ll get you more coffee. Your fucking lips are blue.” 

It was a testament to how cold Flynn was that he didn’t argue. He simply sat and shivered. 

He brought a hot mug of coffee back and put it in Flynn’s hands, not letting go in case Flynn had trouble holding onto it. “Sip slowly.” 

Flynn took a sip, and dammit, the tears that had frozen on Flynn’s eyelashes thawed, shimmering before they fell. 

He pretended he didn’t notice, but he definitely had, and it made his chest ache. Through all of this bullshit he’d never figured out where they’d lost each other and become something unfixable. They used to finish each other’s sentences, read each other’s thoughts. Now he was lucky when Flynn threw a mug because at least that was something he could understand. 

“Thanks for the drink.” Flynn’s voice was raw, rough as a cob. “Sorry for breaking the cup.” 

Like he cared about a coffee mug. “I’m sorry I sprung this on you. I did text, but I should have known better.” 

“I needed a break. I finished finals and needed somewhere the phone couldn’t find me.” 

“I get it. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll take off as soon as you thaw out.” He stood and peered out the window. He’d thought the darkness was due to the weather, but no, it was plain old night out there now. “Shit. It’s really dark. Well, I’ll be careful.” 

“What?” Flynn frowned and stood up. “No. No, you know those roads aren’t safe in the dark, especially not without a four-wheel drive.” 

He did know that; he and Flynn had learned that the hard way about six months before Jasper was born. It was sweet that Flynn seemed so worried about him doing something stupid. He sighed. “Yeah. Crap.” 

Flynn stared at him for a long minute, then breathed deep. “Are the kids expecting you home? Do I need to get the sat phone?” 

“I guess we should tell Mom I’m stuck for the night, yeah.” That was going to open another can of worms, but she was going to have questions either way. 

“No reason to worry everyone. Jasper worries.” 

Yeah, their six-year-old was absolutely anxiety boy, worrying about everything. 

“I know. Sorry about this. It’s obviously not the downtime you were looking for.” 

Flynn waved his words away. “It’s fine. You need to be safe. Tomorrow you can run down the mountain and all.” 

He nodded. “I can take the couch.” He’d head out in the morning and do what he should have done in the first place—let the lawyers handle this shit. 

“I’ve been sleeping there, if you want the bed. I can’t—I haven’t been sleeping in the bedroom.” 

That was how he felt about the house, especially when the kids weren’t there. “Sure. Okay.” He assumed the stuff he’d left in the closet and the dresser were still here. He probably even had a toothbrush. 

“There’s soup if you want it. Bread.” Flynn stood up, wandering over to where theirthesatellite phone was plugged in. “Call your mom. I’m going to warm this place up.” 

“Thanks.” He took the phone from Flynn, ignoring the tingle where their fingers touched, and made the call. He had enough juice in his phone to read a book for a while so, when he was done, he’d just tuck himself in and leave Flynn alone for the evening. 

He dialed and waited for the call to connect. 

Title: Thawed Out
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0DL3X7WWM

Outfoxed

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: On the Ranch Series #4
Genre: , , , , , , ,
Release Date: April 22, 2025
Pages: 224

Outfoxed is an opposites attract, hurt/comfort, found family romance featuring an injured bull rider at the end of his career and a widower single dad derailed by a mental health crisis.

Bull rider Trent James might be a little broken. He’s a cowboy recovering from a terrible wreck, going through the grind of surgeries and physical therapy and trying not to have a meltdown. Thank goodness for his friends and neighbors Rope and Jude, who keep him up and moving and getting better.

Callum Fox is broken for a totally different reason. When he heads to Texas to visit his friends, he’s looking to get away from too many hours as a CEO and too many memories of his late husband. He wants to spend more time with his daughter, and he needs to figure out what he's going to do with the rest of his life.

The two of them come together and find kindred spirits in each other. But sometimes it’s tough to glue the broken parts back together, and they have to find out where they fit and what they can do to support each other, even when the storm gets bad. Can Fox and Trent make a life together, or will they be unable to mend their shattered pieces?

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Chapter 1 

“Trent, buddy. You gotta get your shit together. You gotta wake up, because you’re worrying folks.” 

Trent tilted his head, or he tried to. Okay, that hurt. Let’s not do that again. All right? 

All right, he told himself. What was the very last thing he remembered? 

He was in… somewhere. Nashville? He thought it was Nashville. 

Maybe New Orleans? Could be New Haven. Somewhere with an N. 

Surely not New Mexico? Hmm. 

No, it was definitely Nashville. The sidewalks singinghe remembered that. 

Okay, good. And then after that? 

He took a deep breath. Oh, yeah, that hurt too. 

So, he must have been riding. Hurting like this meant a wreck. 

He couldn’t smell dirt, so that was probably good. 

Of course, if he couldn’t smell dirt, he didn’t know where he was, and he had to wake up? 

That meant he was either in the hospital or in an ambulance. Both of those were bad. 

Didn’t sound like an ambulance. Didn’t feel like one either. They tended to be tight and loud and jostly, and someone was always bugging you. 

“I’m serious, Trent. You wake your happy ass up. I will kick your butt.” 

Okay, that voicehe knew that was Rope. His best buddy. His traveling partner. His neighbor. If Rope was here, it was serious. 

He licked his lips, wondering if he should ask for a drink or what the hell had happened to him first. 

“Thirsty,” was the word he croaked out. 

Well. That was fair. His body decided what it wanted to do, and fuck his curious brain. 

“Yeah? How about some ice chips? They don’t want you puking.” 

“Surgery?” he asked, because that was the answer to no puking. 

“You know it, buddy. You got yourself all tore up. Shoulder. Collarbone. Your right arm. Got some good bruises too. But they pretty much had to put that whole right side back together. It’s gross. Silas will be over the moon to see.” 

“Ice chips.” 

So, the shoulder blade and the collarbone break explained why it hurt to nod. At least his mouth wasn’t wired shut. That always sucked. 

“Did I win any money?” 

A sliver of ice slid over his lips, and he moaned. Oh, that felt so good. So damn good. 

“No, sir. Not a dime. Gonna make some money off talking about this wreck, if you’re lucky.” 

He should have retired last year. 

“Home.” If Trent was broke, he needed to be home. 

“Day after tomorrow. I rented a van. We’ll just drive it.” 

“Jude?” 

Rope snorted. “We got a baby coming, man. Any day. He’s at home. Just in case.” 

“The boy?” 

“I am not bringing my son out here to drive. He’s not old enough to help with that part. No, he is in school. You gotta focus, man. It’s April. He’s in school.” 

“Right. Sorry.” He wasn’t going to say that he didn’t need Rope to drive him home, or that he was going to manage it by himself or any of that shit because they knew each other well enough to know better. He’d driven Rope more places than he cared to admit, and his buddy had done the same for him. That was what traveling partners were for. 

Not that Rope was riding. Rope was retired. Rope had been retired for something like… two years, right? 

They hadn’t gone backward in time, surely. 

No. Rope said there was a baby coming, and they’d just done that, seemed like. Back last summer? Maybe they started back in the spring, after talking to every damn human being in Texas about having a baby. 

The simple fact was that Rope was still retired. 

“Man. I’m here for the sponsors. I was doing a signing and introducing that new bull.” 

This was why a man had a riding partner. 

Because they knew each other, and they didn’t have to ask stupid questions. 

Rope would just give him stupid answers. That was how it ought to be. 

“Did we go in on yaks together?” 

Rope cracked up, the laughter covering up the constant beeping. “You fucking know we did. You know how much yak butter sells for? You know how funny it is to watch cowboys try to milk a yak?” 

“Want to go home.” 

“I know. When you get the tubes out of your arms and out of your dick, we’re on it. We’ll just drive home, and get you settled.” 

“Swear to God?” 

“I swear by all I hold holy, man, and I got a lot of that.” Rope chuckled and leaned down, kissed his forehead like he was a little boy. “It’s time to hang your bull rope up, man, and come home. We’ll raise yaks and horses and cows and be happy.” 

Rope was right. He hated to admit it, but he might have done ridden his last ride. 

Maybe it was time to become an old cowboy with the ranch.

Title: Outfoxed
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0F2JNV1Y4
ISBN13: 978-1-963644-11-1