Hi and welcome! I’m so delighted to be re-releasing one of my most popular stories — Fire Balls! I hope you love this romance of opposites attracting between a feisty painter and a quiet firefighter! Be sure to enter to win on the Rafflecopter and thank you for visiting! : )
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Fire Balls
(Balls to the Wall Series, Bk #2)
By Tara Lain
Blurb:
Renowned artist Rodney Mansfield stands five foot six, has pink hair, six earrings, a black belt in karate—and a desperate yearning for firefighter Hunter Fallon. But Rod, the Runtback of Notre Dame, knows he’ll never land the beautiful “straight gay” guy, so Rod musters his altruism and helps his more masculine friend Jerry attract Hunter. As if a broken heart wasn’t enough, Rod saves Hunter from a firehouse homophobe—humiliating Hunter in front of his dad!
Hunter lives a dream life—his father’s dream. While he’d like to teach literature in college, read poetry in the sun, and find a strong guy to top him, he fights fires for his dad. Hunter hates flamboyant guys like Rodney. So why can’t he resist him? Maybe it’s time to admit this is one flame he has no desire to put out.
Available to purchase
Excerpts
He leaned back on the couch. “Anyway, he’s dreamy,
straight-up divine. Sweet and nice and smart. Shit, man, have you ever seen
anything so beautiful?”
straight-up divine. Sweet and nice and smart. Shit, man, have you ever seen
anything so beautiful?”
Too much. Rod got up and went back to the easel.
At least he didn’t have to stare into Jerry’s smitten face. Crap, he wanted to
be happy for the guy. He really did. “He’s beautiful, all right.”
At least he didn’t have to stare into Jerry’s smitten face. Crap, he wanted to
be happy for the guy. He really did. “He’s beautiful, all right.”
“And guess what? He asked about you.”
No breath. “He, uh, did?”
“Yeah. Said you were so talented. See, I told you not to
leave.”
leave.”
“Didn’t want to be a third wheel.”
“Hey, my man, you’re my brother from another mother. What I
got, you got. So I’m going on another date with him, and he loves to read and
shit. Could you tell me some stuff to talk about?”
got, you got. So I’m going on another date with him, and he loves to read and
shit. Could you tell me some stuff to talk about?”
Oh dear God. “So what have you read, Jerry?”
He looked at his hands. “I, uh, read a few romance novels.”
“I think it’s okay to talk about those, but you have to know
some other writers too. So think. What did you read in high school?”
some other writers too. So think. What did you read in high school?”
“Comic books.”
“Graphic novels?”
“Yeah. Man, I love Watchmen and X-Men and Batman.”
“Comic books.” He walked over to a bookshelf he kept tucked
away in the corner of the studio. When he rested on the couch, he loved to read
himself to sleep. “Have you ever heard of Lord Byron?”
away in the corner of the studio. When he rested on the couch, he loved to read
himself to sleep. “Have you ever heard of Lord Byron?”
Jerry shook his head. “Sounds like a rock star.”
“He kind of was for his time. He was a poet.” He took out a
slim volume and began to read from Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. “Roll on,
thou deep and dark blue ocean—roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in
vain; man marks the earth with ruin—his control stops with the shore.” When he
got to “unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown” he looked up.
slim volume and began to read from Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. “Roll on,
thou deep and dark blue ocean—roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in
vain; man marks the earth with ruin—his control stops with the shore.” When he
got to “unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown” he looked up.
Jerry’s big blue eyes shone with tears. “Hey, man, that’s
awesome. Probably not a surfer, I guess. All the ‘thees’ and ‘thous’ sound kind
of old. But that dude knew what a surfer feels, man. We ride on top of the—what
did he call it?—deep and dark blue ocean. And we know we can sink and never be
heard from again, man. Axed. It’s how we want to go if we gotta.”
awesome. Probably not a surfer, I guess. All the ‘thees’ and ‘thous’ sound kind
of old. But that dude knew what a surfer feels, man. We ride on top of the—what
did he call it?—deep and dark blue ocean. And we know we can sink and never be
heard from again, man. Axed. It’s how we want to go if we gotta.”
He had to stop underestimating this man. Rod walked over to
the couch and handed the book to Jerry. “Just be yourself. He’s got to love
you.”
the couch and handed the book to Jerry. “Just be yourself. He’s got to love
you.”
“Wow, thanks. But I’ll read this, man. Every word, or at
least the words I understand, okay?”
least the words I understand, okay?”
He smiled. “Okay.”
“I sure do like the way you read it, though.”
Rod laughed, took back the book, and began to read.
The firefighters piled out onto the hard-packed dirt drive
and hauled the hose toward the hydrant out by the highway. Shit, they were just
going to make it… if they were lucky.
and hauled the hose toward the hydrant out by the highway. Shit, they were just
going to make it… if they were lucky.
“Save him. Help, please, help,” one woman screamed, pointing
toward the building.
toward the building.
What? He gave his spot on the hose to another man and ran to
the woman’s side. “Ma’am. What do you mean?”
the woman’s side. “Ma’am. What do you mean?”
The woman on the driveway was white as a cloud and pointing,
her mouth working. “Rod. Rodney. He ran in. Do something.”
her mouth working. “Rod. Rodney. He ran in. Do something.”
He gripped her arm. “Ran in? Rodney ran in there?” Ice froze
his heart.
his heart.
“Yes, yes. I came over to see, and suddenly he just ran past
me and straight in the door. I don’t know where his car is….”
me and straight in the door. I don’t know where his car is….”
Hell no! He pulled on his respirator and ran
toward the door of the studio. His heart beat way too fast. Had to get control.
Why, why would Rod do it? What was worth his life? His life. He couldn’t die. Hell, no.
toward the door of the studio. His heart beat way too fast. Had to get control.
Why, why would Rod do it? What was worth his life? His life. He couldn’t die. Hell, no.
“Fallon, wait. Don’t go in alone,” Cam screamed behind him.
Hell, no. No time to wait. Rod was in there.
The screen door, the damned squeaky screen door, hung half
off its hinges. He tore it away and, hunched against the heat, moved into the
studio. Smoke. Embers raining down. The heat pushed like a wall through his
gear. The flames crawled along the half-missing roof like a snake slinking
along a branch, hissing.
off its hinges. He tore it away and, hunched against the heat, moved into the
studio. Smoke. Embers raining down. The heat pushed like a wall through his
gear. The flames crawled along the half-missing roof like a snake slinking
along a branch, hissing.
Stop. Think. The part of the structure
closest to the door remained most intact. He dropped to the floor and scooted
along a few feet. Not much in here. Beside him, the old desk had burned nearly
to ash. His heart hammered. Breathe slowly. Don’t panic.
closest to the door remained most intact. He dropped to the floor and scooted
along a few feet. Not much in here. Beside him, the old desk had burned nearly
to ash. His heart hammered. Breathe slowly. Don’t panic.
Where is he?
Can’t be too late. No, hell, no. Never
too late. He crawled another couple of feet and pressed his head down by
the floor, squinting through the smoke…. Yes!
Can’t be too late. No, hell, no. Never
too late. He crawled another couple of feet and pressed his head down by
the floor, squinting through the smoke…. Yes!
A body. Rod. Collapsed on the floor clutching a small canvas
to his chest. The insane idiot. No painting was worth this. Crouching, Hunter
covered the few steps.
to his chest. The insane idiot. No painting was worth this. Crouching, Hunter
covered the few steps.
Jesus,
Rod looked so small. And… so still. Hell,
no. Hunter pulled Rod into his arms. Felt right. Felt good. Hunter took off
his respirator and fitted it over Rod’s nose and mouth. Breathe for me, baby.
Rod’s body hung, limp as a doll.
Rod looked so small. And… so still. Hell,
no. Hunter pulled Rod into his arms. Felt right. Felt good. Hunter took off
his respirator and fitted it over Rod’s nose and mouth. Breathe for me, baby.
Rod’s body hung, limp as a doll.
The Balls to the Wall Series
Volley Balls
Bk #1
Available at
About the Author
Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 32. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Paranormal Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog near the sea in California where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!
You can find Tara at Lain
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I thought the excerpt was very passionately written.
Thank you, Debra! : )
I liked the excerpt, thank you.
So glad you did, Rita. : )
The boys and the stories of this series are amazing
Thank you, Cinders. I love them too and some new guys are coming. : )
really enjoyed the book tara..congrats
So glad, Jodi! : )
sounds great!
The blurb sounds very interesting and the cover is a real eye catcher! Congrats on the release of the second book in the series.