Nicholas Danville doesn’t trust his lover to share the depth of his attraction.
He knows full well Victor must marry to fulfill his duty to his aristocratic family.
Assuredly marriage will mean the end of their liaison.
A youthful indiscretion leads to a humiliating encounter between Nicholas Danville and Lord Victor Ware. Nicholas is sent home in disgrace, and Victor continues life in the Ton. Years later, Nicholas's reproving parents send him to town to attain a degree of polish before he prepares for life as a member of the clergy.
A chance encounter with an old friend leads to a new confrontation between Nicholas and Victor. This time, the attraction between them burns brighter, Nicholas is old enough to know his own mind, and Victor is done with self-denial.
From ballrooms to gardens and opera houses, Victor sets about proving that a passionate liaison between two men is possible even under the narrow gaze of the Ton.
Peter had evidently taken the time to pull his glossy Hessians back on because Victor had swallowed half the glass before he heard the door click behind him. Lifting the glass to study the amber liquid in the firelight, he spoke without turning around. "I pay you an adequate allowance to cover your own establishment Peter, exactly because I do not wish to find hordes of drunken revelers have invaded my home."
"I'm glad for Peter's sake that you're a generous man, My Lord Ware. But I'd hardly call our little gathering a horde."
Victor whirled about to find Danville lounging in altogether too close a proximity. A single lingering glance impressed upon Victor the slender lithe frame, lovingly outlined by tight buff colored breeches, fine white linen shirt open at the neck. Both his discreetly embroidered waistcoat and his black tailcoat hung open. Danville’s inappropriate dishabille enticed him as the devil tempted sinners. He held up a hand as though to ward off the smaller man, but Danville stepped impossibly closer, and Victor groaned as his blood thrummed and his head swam.
Strong arms wrapped around his neck, tugging his head down, and soft wet lips pressed lightly against his mouth. "I've waited years for this moment, Ware."
Then Victor gave up listening, gave up fighting the response of his body as an agile tongue probed the seam of his lips, seeking entrance. He accepted Nicky's kiss, opened his mouth to suck at the questing tongue. He chased Nicky's tongue for what seemed like ages, his body hardening and heating with lust.
His arms closed around Nicky's slender waist, hauling the man close so he could seek solace for the ache of his prick in grinding against the silk of Nicky's evening breeches. The shattering of his whiskey glass on the hearth broke the mood, and Nicky pulled away, retreating to the door.
"I'm going now." He paused, hand on the doorknob. A strangely earnest expression crossed his face as he tilted his head to glance back at the stunned Victor. "Shall I return? Or do you forbid Peter's friends the run of your home?"
He slipped from the room while Victor struggled to frame a coherent response
Somewhere in a small town in up-state New York are a librarian and a second grade teacher to whom I owe my life. That might be a touch dramatic, but it's nevertheless one hundred percent true.
Because they taught me the joy of reading, of escaping into worlds crafted of words.
Have you ever been nine years old and sure of nothing so much as that you don't belong? Looked at the world from behind glasses, and wondered why you don't fit?
Then turn the page and see… there you are, running from Injun Joe in a dark graveyard; there you are fencing with Athos; there you are…beneath the deep blue sea- marveling at exotic creatures with Captain Nemo.
I found myself between the pages of books, and that is why I write now, it's why I taught English and literature for so many years, and it's why my house contains more pounds of books than furniture.
If I'd had my way, I'd have been a fencer…or a starship captain, or a lawyer, or a detective solving crimes. But instead, I am a writer, and that's the best thing in the world to be if you ask me, because as a writer, I can be all those things and more.
If I hadn't learned to value the stories between the pages, who knows what would have happened? Certainly not college…teaching…or writing.
Cover Artist: Laura Harner
Photograph: Dan Skinner
Publisher: Lime Time Press
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