Special Guest: Damon Suede with Lickety Split

Hi. This is Tara. Thank you for stopping by the blog. I’m on vacation right now — the first longer-than-a-weekend vacay I’ve taken in years that didn’t include writing workshops. While I’m gone, I invited a bunch of my friends — some of your fave authors — to stop by and share their news and new releases. I know you’ll love it. Enjoy. Talk soon. : )

Please welcome author Damon Suede

 

 

Lickety Split
By Damon Suede

Blurb:
Lickety Split: Love won’t wait.

Patch Hastle grew up in a hurry, ditching East Texas for NYC to make his name as a DJ and model without ever looking back. When his parents die unexpectedly, he heads home to unload the family farm ASAP and skedaddle. Except the will left Patch’s worst enemy in charge: his father’s handsome best friend who made his high school years hell.

Tucker Biggs is going nowhere. Twenty years past his rodeo days, he’s put down roots as the caretaker of the Hastle farm. He knows his buddy’s smartass son still hates his guts, but when Patch shows up growed-up, looking like sin in tight denim, Tucker turns his homecoming into a lesson about old dogs and new kinks.

Patch and Tucker fool around, but they can’t fool themselves. Once the farm’s sold, they mean to call it quits and head off to separate sunsets. With the clock ticking, the city slicker and his down-home hick get roped into each other’s life. If they’re gonna last longer than spit on a griddle, they better figure out what matters—fast.

Available for purchase at
Dreamspinner | Kindle | Amazon Paperback | Nook |B&N Paperback | Kobo | iBooks

Excerpt

 In this excerpt from Chapter Four, the day after their first awkward, intense sexual encounter, Patch takes a dip in the pond not expecting Tucker to show up.

 On the big rock near the pond’s center, Patch stood again and scraped the water from his wavy hair. He had a memory of his pa balancing him on a horse as a boy. Steady now. The sun felt like heaven through his closed eyes. He turned and dove back in.Even at its deepest, the water only came up to his chest and the carp in the weeds weren’t something he’d ever eat. The bottom was broken rock at one end and cool mud at the other.

Patch had learned to jerk off against those flat rocks, snuck beers, and smoked the only two cigarettes of his life too. Sophomore year, he’d fooled around on the rockier shore with teammates because it was private and navigable in the dark. Against that tree, he’d kissed his first girl (meh) and blown his first boy (yeah!).

“Afternoon.”

Patch stiffened and straightened, twisted to face the gravelly drawl with a cold twist in his gut.

Tucker stood on the opposite shore in Carhartt overalls and that straw work hat. His muscular arms looked tan and greasy against his white undershirt. “I guess we had the same idea.” He glanced at the sky, the water. “It’s hot as a whorehouse on nickel night.” He shifted his weight but came no closer.

A flicker of Tucker naked in the armchair, glittering eyes gazing down at him, the taste of his semen pinning them both in place… Patch blinked it away, hyperconscious of his wet, bare skin and the distance between them. He went no closer to the pebbly shore.

They eyed each other. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three—

“So…. Uhh.” Tucker took his hat off with one hand and wiped his brow and mouth with the other. “We talking?”

Patch frowned, trapped by his nudity and the water.

“I mean, do we talk about what we done?” Tucker crouched at the water’s edge, his boots sinking into the smooth mud. No one had a right to look that good. “Last night. Or are you fixin’ to run off again?” He said run like a cuss word, painting Patch a coward for having some sense.

Patch started to snap back at him out of habit, but then he thought better of it. “Naw.”

“How you today?” Tucker seemed to be actually asking a legitimate question. “Better?”

He shrugged. “I guess. Sure.” Exposed and motionless, he let Tucker’s gaze rest on him across the water. Whatever had passed between them last night had not vanished in sunlight.

Tucker looked relaxed, and cautious.

Patch swallowed, his shaft fattening underwater. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He crossed his arms. “Which part?” Tucker squinted. “Come to visit? Squirted the side of my trailer? Eaten my load?”

“None. All.” Knowing it was a mistake, certain he would regret it, he pushed through the cool water toward the one person he had no business wanting. He moved as he would’ve for a racy photo shoot, fucking the imaginary lens with his presence, demanding a reaction.

Tucker watched him warily from under the trees still, overalls hanging from one strap. “I guess we are.” A crooked smile bent the edge of his mouth. “Talking.”

The closer Patch got to the shore the more of his torso was revealed: nipples, navel, and gradually the darkened trail down to his pubes. His dick thickened and shifted in the water, swirling around his waist as he advanced. Now his body was clean but his thoughts were everything else.

Tucker stared as if hypnotized. He wiped his lower face, lip to chin, and swallowed. He was sweating now. Was that a boner in his overalls?

Patch strode in slow motion, stirring the calm pond water as if sleepwalking. He shouldn’t want this so much but couldn’t make himself care. Conscious of the picture he made, he crooked a sinful grin just for effect.

Eyes wider, Tucker stood and took a step back. “Well, okay, now. Okay.”

“You afraid of me now?” Patch paused one step before his erection broke the surface. Tucker stood as if rooted to the shore. “Or you gonna come for a swim?”

“I’m good.” Tucker swallowed and his tongue slipped out to taste his lips. He couldn’t seem to look at Patch’s face. “Fine. Y’know.” His hands squeezed and released beside his pockets.

So Patch took the step that brought his knob out of the water and his boner dripped between them. Way too much fun watching the big cowboy squirm. He’d come out here looking for trouble; Patch was happy to give it to him.

On the shady shore, Tucker rocked back on his heels and shifted his straw hat to cover the lump under his coveralls.

Patch couldn’t look anywhere else. Another step. The cool mud sucked at his toes in the water dripped from his skin with each step he shouldn’t take.

How had he gotten here? Naked on the family farm, thigh-deep in stagnant water, walking toward a bear trap. New York City and all its fancy bullshit seemed like the other side of the world. Hot wind pushed through the trees overhead; the kudzu hissed and the live oaks whispered above them.

Tucker stood waiting and wary now, a sexy, lazy no-account who’d only ever wanted to scare him straight. They both knew better, but now they stood a yard apart with disaster churning between them.

 

About The Author

 

Damon Suede grew up out-n-proud deep in the anus of right-wing America, and escaped as soon as it was legal. Though new to romance fiction, Damon has been writing for print, stage, and screen for two decades. He’s won some awards, but counts his blessings more often: his amazing friends, his demented family, his beautiful husband, his loyal fans, and his silly, stern, seductive Muse who keeps whispering in his ear, year after year.

Get in touch with him at
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

Sunday EXCLUSIVE Snippet: Prince of the Playhouse! NOT What He Seems!

PrinceOfThePlayhouseHi —

It’s Sunday (in California) and i thought I’d share a little nibble from my next release, PRINCE OF THE PLAYHOUSE! A few reviewers have already read the book and they loved it, so i hope you will too. You’ll discover that Ru, my hero, is full of surprises! Here’s an EXCLUSIVE Snippet:

Prince of the Playhouse by Tara Lain – Not What He Seems!

Dreamspinner Press—

eBook: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=7550

Paperback: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=7551

 Driven by his desire to become a successful fashion designer and concerned with hiding his questionable past, Ru Maitland’s obsession with action movie star Gray Anson on the big screen has replaced his social life. Then obsession and reality collide when Ru is asked to design fashion costumes for a special performance of Hamlet at the Playhouse in Laguna starring none other than Gray Anson. Gray turns out to be a compelling mix of shy and brash and, despite a high profile engagement to a female socialite, the signals Gray sends Ru have his libido doing the salsa.

 Gray Anson has everything any person can want – great wealth, huge fame, a job he loves. For that, he’s given up any semblance of privacy and the right to say no to the thousands of people who depend on him and the millions who love him. He sees everything he’s ever wanted just outside the bubble of his life, but how can he make the compromises needed to embrace it? When Ru’s shady past crashes into Gray’s paparazzi-haunted present, both men have to learn that sometimes the only acceptable compromise is the whole truth.

“Looks like you been shopping. Buy something for me?” The guy stepped closer. Thin, pale, probably drugs.

Ru stopped and faced the man. Not much older than he was. Twenty-four? Twenty-five? But lots of hard living. I know about that. “No, I didn’t. Why? Are you hungry? Need food?”

The man frowned. “No, asshole. I need your money, so why don’t you reach in those fancy fag pants and toss me your wallet?”

Frozen calm. Jesus, he remembered the feeling so well. Too well. Walk away. Get out of here. “No, I don’t think I’ll be doing that.” He tossed his hair out of his eyes. “You should know that I’m not as easy a mark as you’re expecting, so you’d do well to just leave, okay?”

“Oh yeah? And why the fuck would I do that, pretty fag boy?” He swung his hand wide, and the moonlight glistened off the blade of a knife.

Automatic pilot. A streak of adrenaline shot up Ru’s spine. He dropped the bag while his other hand slid deep in his pocket. The guy’s eyes widened at the nasty snick of the switchblade in Ru’s hand. In one move Ru stepped forward, wrapped an arm around the guy’s throat, and pressed the edge of the blade against it. “Drop it or you’re going to bleed, esé.”

“Shit.” The man’s body trembled and jerked. He smelled like sweat and garbage. Ru pressed the knife harder. The kid’s fingers loosened on his weapon, and it clattered to the pavement.

Ru took a breath. I could kill him. Easier than figuring out what the fuck to do with him. Think. You’re Ru Maitland. Think. “Sit on the curb. If you run, I’ll chase you, and you won’t like the outcome. Do you doubt I can catch you?”

The guy’s head moved a fraction side to side.

Ru eased his knife away and pushed the guy down to the street at his feet, then grabbed the other knife from the asphalt. He put one expensive shoe on either side of the kid’s thighs and reached for his phone. Shit, cops. Do I want to do this?

You’re Ru Maitland. Just do it.

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Prince of the Playhouse releases April 4th and you can pre-order it NOW!! Thanks so much for coming by! Hope you enjoyed your EXCLUSIVE Snippet. BTW, if you’d like to enter my contests for FREE books and other fun stuff, sign up for my Newsletter.

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Valentines Day Gift Hop! Paperwhite!

ValentinesDayGiftHopHi! Happy season of love and welcome to the Valentines Day Gift Hop! There are 170 great authors appearing in the Hop with so many prizes it will make your head swim! Every stop on the Hop has its own prize and you have six days to go and try to scoop them all up. What can you win at our delicious event? Keep reading!

BloghopPrizes

  • A Kindle Paperwhite, or
  • A Digital basket of new adult romances

Every comment on every Blog in the Hop counts as an entry toward the grand prizes, so be sure to comment. PLUS, from your comments, i’ll be choosing the winner on MY blog.

On MY Blog you can win —

  • A $5 Amazon GC, AND
  • an e-copy of my new release, The Pack or the PantherCole

To win both the grand prizes and my prizes, all you have to do is comment. If you want to Like my Facebook Page, that would be nice too, but not required.

Celebrating Valentine’s Day is a natural for romance authors. Romance is our life’s blood. So for fun, i’m posting a pretty sexy (and i hope romantic) excerpt from my new bestselling release, The Pack or the Panther. Love is so often unlikely, and these two are literally fighting the battle of cats and dogs.

PackorthePanther[The]LGExcerpt: The Pack or the Panther by Tara Lain; MM paranormal; The Battle Between Cats and Dogs!

Available  Dreamspinner Press  AMAZON  ARe And other resellers

Cole Harker, son of an alpha werewolf, is bigger and more powerful than most wolves, tongue-tied in groups, and gay. For twenty-four years, he’s lived to please his family and pack—even letting them promise him in marriage to female werewolf Analiese to secure a pack alliance and help save them from a powerful gangster who wants their land. Then Cole meets Analiese’s half-brother, panther shifter Paris Marketo, and for the first time, Cole wants something for himself.

 When Analiese runs off to marry a human, Cole finally has a chance with Paris, but the solitary cat rejects him, the pack, and everything it represents. Then Cole discovers the gangster wants Paris too and won’t rest until he has him. What started as a land dispute turns into World War Wolf! But the bigger fight is the battle between cats and dogs.

 

Cole took hold of a branch a few feet from Paris. “Do you think the alliance will stand?” He shrugged. “Hard to say. I know everyone hopes so, so I hope so too.” Cole pulled his eyebrows together. “But you don’t really care.”

Paris looked up sharply. “Yes, I care. I care about my parents. They’ve been good to me and I owe them a lot. I’m a freak by wolf standards, and my father has never abjured me. I honestly believe he kept me separate for my well-being more than his own. He acknowledges me as his son even though I remind him of his greatest sorrow.”

“Your panther mother.” He nodded. “And Trixie isn’t a brave female. My existence is difficult for her, but she’s been nothing but good to me. She had to stand against the combined disapproval of a lot of other females for me. They didn’t know what I was, but they knew I was Merced’s first wife’s son. They weren’t kind. She was. I value her and want the best.”

Cole nodded. If there was one thing he understood, it was loyalty.

“And then there’s you.”

Cole glanced up. Look at that mischievous face. He’d switched from deeply serious to court jester in one second flat. “What about me?” He grinned.

The cat danced around his tree, unfastening buttons on his shirt with intricate skill. “You want the alliance and I want you. Isn’t that an Aristotelian principle? If A equals B and B equals C, then Paris wants Cole to have his alliance so Paris can have Cole’s big yummy cock in his ass. An ass, I might add, that’s been throbbing like a voodoo drum since I first looked in your silver eyes, wolfman.” He whipped off the shirt, leaving his upper body bare.

Wow. Even knowing what was coming, that sight was hard to believe. The cat’s skin glowed in the moonlight like so much alabaster formed into a work of art. If you liked bulky, you wouldn’t like Paris. But if the look of a black leopard stealing along a branch stilled your heart, this sight would do it for you down to the ground. Not really slim. More like lean, with muscles just where they should be, but as if they were made of silk rather than stone. Fluid.

Paris reached and grabbed a branch, then pulled himself up one-armed until he leaned over the wood on his belly. Flip. He circled and came up to sitting, his upper body glowing and long legs dangling. He spread his arms out for a second as if balancing on a tightrope. Then he reached in and started to unfasten his belt. Slowly, he slipped it from his trousers, then swung it over his head until it caught on an upper branch.

He pulled himself to standing and used one hand to slowly lower his fly. White showed in the gap. Oh my. Not white underwear.  White skin. Cole shuddered. He wasn’t used to this kind of sexy. Hell, who was? This cat was one of a kind.

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Now, here is your chance to Hop to all the other blogs and enter again for the grand prizes and the bloggers’ prizes. Enjoy!