Hi everyone — Welcome to Big Backlist Weekend! Are you a BBW veteran or a virgin? The last weekend of each month, i invite one very special author to come join me in giving away a book from our backlists. It’s a fun chance to win some great books, and even more, it’s an opportunity to get to meet these writers up close. This weekend, my guest is Mary Calmes. What a treat. I’m a huge fan of Mary’s books and extraordinary characters. And to make this backlist giveaway even more special, Mary is giving away an AUDIO book of her novel, Acrobat! My backlist book this month is a fave of a lot of readers — Sinders and Ash.

How do you win? EZ! Just leave a comment. One comment enters you in two drawings. If you have the book you win, no worries. We’ll come up with something! Okay. Get ready to dive into our Backlist —

Acrobat by Mary Calmes (Audio Book version)

Forty-five-year-old English professor Nathan Qells is very good at making people feel important. What he’s not very good at is sticking around afterward. He’s a nice guy; he just doesn’t feel things the way other people do. So even after all the time he’s spent taking care of Michael, the kid across the hall, he doesn’t realize that Michael’s mob muscle uncle and guardian, Andreo Fiore, has slowly been falling in love with him.

Dreo has bigger problems than getting Nate to see him as a potential partner. He’s raising his nephew, trying to leave his unsavory job, and starting his own business, a process made infinitely more difficult when a series of hits takes out some key underworld players. Still, Dreo is determined to build a life he can be proud of—a life with Nate as a cornerstone. A life that is starting to look like exactly what Nate has been seeking. Unfortunately for Dreo—and for Nate—the last hits were just part of a major reorganization, and Dreo’s obvious love for Nate has made him a target too.

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Excerpt:

THERE was just no way.

“You won’t know unless you try.”

I turned to look at my ex-wife, who was still my best friend in the world. “Are you kidding? It’s hopeless.”

“It’s actually kind of cute.”

“Oh God,” I groaned and buried my face in my folded arms.

We were having lunch on a Sunday at a bistro she liked that I, of course, had never heard of. But to say that she knew things about fine dining or even “chic” dining that I did not was the understatement of the century. She was more chateaubriand, and I was steak and potatoes.

“Sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I think there’s a code or something.”

“What code?”

“Thou shalt not covet your ex-students.”

She laughed. “I think you made that one up.”

“Oh God, it even sounds disgusting.”

“It does not.”

“Like you would know.”

“Don’t be an ass just because you’re having a crisis.”

I groaned louder.

“You said you had him in class fourteen years ago? Is that right?”

“I bet he doesn’t even know who Duran Duran is.”

She started laughing. “So that makes him, what, thirty-two now? Thirty-three?”

“Or a Rubik’s Cube.”

The laughing got harder. “Even thirty-two is perfectly respectable for a man of forty-five.”

“Oh God.”

“You’re so ridiculous.”

“That’s a thirteen-year age difference, Mel. I could be his father.”

She was lost in a fit of giggles.

“I could!”

She just shook her head, wiping at her eyes. Christ, it wasn’t that funny.

“Jared is closer to his age than mine.”

“True.” She shivered slightly in the crisp November air.

It made more sense for the man I had a very immature crush on to date my twenty-seven-year-old son. I was too old for him.

“But your son isn’t gay, and Sean is, and so are you, my darling.”

I lifted up my head, raked my fingers through my thick dirty-blond hair, and looked at her. “Do you mean to not help?”

“Love,” she chuckled, “twenty-eight years ago me and my best friend got drunk off our asses, and because he was hot—still is, I might add—I jumped his bones when I had the chance and got knocked up just like the nuns said I would.”

“Thank you for the recap.” I grunted, leaning back, looking at her.

Her hand went to my knee. “And lo and behold, nine months later you did the right thing and made an honest woman of me because you loved me and fell madly in love with your kid the second you saw him.”

“He was cute.” I sighed in memory.

He looked like an undercooked slab of meatloaf.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“But true,” she added brightly. “And that cute little blob grew up to be a wonderful young man.”

“Who will make an excellent wildlife biologist very soon.” I smiled at her.

She made a noise that was not nice.

“Oh c’mon, Mel, everyone takes a semester off when they’re getting their doctorate,” I defended my wayward kid. “It’s a lot of studying to do all in one shot.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever. We’re not discussing Jare; we’re discussing you.”

“Let’s not.” I exhaled sharply, picking up my menu. “What’re we eating?”

She snatched the leather-bound piece from my hands, which should have been my first clue that I was out of my depth in the “bistro,” and smacked me with it.

“Owww,” I complained loudly.

She banged it back down on the table. “I want to talk about Sean.”

“I don’t. I’m not ready anyway.”

“No-no-no, you will not hide behind your dead relationship with Duncan anymore. It’s been over a year and a half, Nate. It’s time to dive back in.”

“I have,” I assured her. “I’ve been on some dates.”

“Who have you slept with?”

“How is that your business?”

“Nate, you need to get laid.”

“Ohmygod, could you speak up, please,” I said sarcastically. “The people one street over didn’t hear you.”

She tried not to smile.

“Jesus, woman,” I scolded her.

“It’s time to get back on the horse.”

“Mel—”

“Or back in the saddle, which is it?”

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Sinders and Ash by Tara Lain

Work hard, stay anonymous and don’t expect much. That’s resort housekeeper Mark Sintorella’s philosophy of life. After being kicked out of his family home at sixteen for being gay, Mark knows what it takes to survive. But how is he going to stay anonymous when he wants to be recognized as a great fashion designer? And how can he control his expectations when he’s desperately attracted to Ashton Armitage, the son of the fifth richest man in America? If Ash doesn’t find a woman to marry he’s going to lose his inheritance, but he can’t seem to resist the beautiful kid who cleans fireplaces while hiding behind a black cap and heavy glasses. And then this crazy elf of a man, Carstairs Pennymaker, has Mark running around looking like a fashion model wearing gorgeous women’s clothes. The clock strikes twelve and the wedding follows the ball. Two beautiful princesses line up for attention. But one isn’t interested and one isn’t a woman. Who will be the bride? Will the shoe fit? Only his fairy godmother knows for sure.

 AMAZON    ARe   B&N

The hall beyond the door was dim, with only two yellow service lights. Shoot. Ash looked down. He wished he didn’t have on flip-flops. They made a little flapping noise, but he wasn’t brave enough to try this dank corridor barefoot. Still, he felt the need to hurry. Stepping softly, he raced down the hall to where it turned. Sounds. He stopped.

“Ummmph. Get the fuck off. Get away. Quit.”

Ash tore around the corner and saw just what he expected. The big asshole had the kid pushed face first into the wall. He had Sinder’s jeans halfway down his ass and his big, disgusting cock pointed right at it. The bastard. Okay, so fighting didn’t come up that often in the day-to-day life of a billionaire’s son. A couple of paparazzi had gotten a push, but not much more. Still…ten years of off and on martial arts had to be worth something. Don’t warn the asshole.

Step. Thud. Wap. His fist connected with the guy’s jaw. Shit! He forgot how much hitting hurt! But it satisfied his soul to punch that asshole with all his force.

“Ow.” Scary’s head snapped back and he reeled a couple steps away from Sinders. Not down. Damn. Have to hit him again. Ash took a breath and pulled back to strike. The guy raised his fists to block.

Ash saw the moment the ugly dude finally realized whom he was about to hit. His face froze.

You should be afraid.

Scary glanced at his own fists, stepped back farther and, without even tucking his cock in his drawers, turned and ran back up the hall toward the door he had come in. Ash stepped after him. “Keep running, asshole.”

Ash rested his hands on his knees. Hitting a guy for real was different than karate make-believe. It looked so easy in the movies. His hand hurt like hell and the adrenaline made it hard to breathe.

Too quiet. He looked up. Sinders huddled against the wall, one hand holding his pants up at his hip, the other covering his eyes. From a few feet away, Ash could see him shaking.

“Are you okay, kid?”

The head nodded in some roundabout direction that could mean yes or no.

“Hey, you’re okay now.” Ash walked closer to the guy. “He won’t be back and when I’m done with the owner of the hotel, you won’t have to worry about him ever again.”

The boy’s head shook again, but he still huddled by the wall barely dressed. He was terrified. Hell, Ash would have sworn nothing could get that young man down. He stepped closer and put his hand on Sinder’s arm. The boy tensed and started to pull away, stopped and just crumpled like a wet sock. Shit. Ash caught him before he hit the floor and pulled him up into his arms. “Whoa. You don’t want to be on that floor, kid. You don’t know where it’s been.”

Sinders smiled. Just a slight turn of the lips, but it counted. Didn’t stop shaking, though. “It’s okay. I got you.”

“S-sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. That guy was big and ugly. Don’t be afraid anymore.”

“N-not him. Before him. Can’t talk about it.” Sinders kind of burrowed into Ash’s arms, making little hiccupping sounds, his body shaking like the proverbial leaf. Okay, that felt interesting. Ash tightened his arms. The kid was tall, but Ash was taller, so Sinders could push his face into the crook of Ash’s neck like he was hiding from the bogeyman.

Not too experienced at the comfort thing, Ash rubbed a hand up the man’s back. God, he was lean, hard and supple. Really different from any feel he’d ever had under his hands before.

The shaking seemed to slow a little. The sounds softened. Ash just kept stroking.

Good. Seemed to be working. The boy’s breath misted warm on his neck. Quieter. Quiet. Still.

Sinder’s head pulled out from Ash’s neck. Ash gazed down at that silly cap, then the kid slowly looked up at him. Somewhere, those ugly glasses had been knocked askew and all Ash saw were eyes so deep they’d swallow mastodons and preserve them for a thousand years. Hold. Gaze.

He felt the kid’s chest expand against his own. Sinder’s arm twitched, then slowly his hand snaked up behind Ash’s neck. The fingers were rough, calloused and they circled gently on Ash’s skin. More goose bumps. Nice this time. For an instant, Sinders froze, hand pressed, but not decided. He made this little noise. Ohhh. The fingers slipped into Ash’s hair and tightened. Slow motion. It probably took a half second, but Ash felt like he saw every detail of the boy’s pretty mouth— pink, pouting, trembling—getting closer until his face blocked out Ash’s sight and wild heat attacked his lips. Crap. Hot. Soft. How did this happen?

The kid’s fingers dug into his hair and his soft tongue pressed against Ash’s startled lips. Oh God, open. Ash’s lips parted on their own. Invasion of sweetness. Like his birthday. Sinder’s tongue pressed its advantage and took possession of the field. Did that moan he heard came from his own throat?

His hands gripped Sinder’s lean hips, where the unfastened jeans were nearly falling down again. Closer. Come closer. Ash dragged him tight against his own straining erection. What was he doing? He didn’t know. Too sweet, too hot to think. Sinders ate at his mouth, like a starving man, making soft, mewling noises. Ash pressed his body against the boy, pushing him back against the wall.

It was like an alarm went off. When Sinders hit that wall, his head flipped up, and Ash looked into wide, startled dark eyes.

“Shit, no. What am I… I’m so sorry. Oh God, please forgive me. I’m so sorry.”

The kid grabbed his sagging jeans, made a wailing sound and ran down the hall.

Ash gasped for breath. His cock strained against his shorts like a pole in a circus tent. What the fuck had just happened?

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That’s it! Remember, the winner of Acrobat gets an Audio Book! I want to enter myself!  LOL. Thank you for coming by. Leave a comment.  : )