Hi everyone-- I hope you enjoyed the Drinking and Winning Blog Hop! Susan White was our winner and she has already used her GC to buy new books. Now on to the next exciting event! Sinders and Ash releases this coming Sunday, April 1, from Amber Allure. This is my first release for them and i'm very excited. So to whet your appetite, i have posted the blurb and an excerpt from Sinders and Ash below. Enjoy! And don't forget to go to Beautiful Boys Books and enter to win a $10 gift card to buy this book or any others you want.
Excerpt:
Sinders and Ash by Tara Lain; MM Contemporary Fantasy
Coming April 1 to Amber Allure
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.
Mark
held onto the edge of the counter for a second. Breathe, you idiot. What about seeing Aston Armitage had he thought
was going to be a good thing? This was torture. Those women were pretty. Which
one was he going to marry? The blonde who came to talk to Armitage seemed to
work for him, not like a new girlfriend. It must be Bitsy. He sighed. At least
she was nice, the lucky duck. And Mrs. Fanderel would be ecstatic. Why in hell
did the idea make him nauseous?
Okay, salads. Get this dinner
served and get the fuck out of here.
He arranged hearts of palm and avocado on Bibb lettuce and sprinkled on some
pine nuts, then added a few dried cranberries for color and a drizzle of
vinaigrette. He pulled the forks he’d set to chill from the refrigerator,
placed it all on a tray and pushed through the swinging door with his shoulder.
Heart pause. Bitsy and Armitage were already at the table.
Mark
took a deep breath and plastered on a pleasant expression. “Your salads.” He
placed Bitsy’s salad plate onto her serving charger he had set earlier. He was
careful to serve from her left side and positioned the fork above her plate.
Okay, Armitage
next.
Mark
crossed around the table. Oh God, the man smelled so good. Focus, Mark.
He put the salad plate into position with only the slightest clank. He hoped
Armitage didn’t see his hands shaking. “Enjoy.”
The
damned rich kid smiled at him, all flashing white teeth and dimples so huge you
could sharpen a pencil in them. “These look delicious.”
Mark
ducked his head a little and escaped through the swinging door. He knew
delicious when he saw it and it had nothing to do with salad.
From
inside the kitchen, he heard Armitage’s melodious voice say softly, “Ronnie
must’ve been right about his being new. He seems nervous. Did a good job so
far, though.”
Mark’s
heart beat too fast. Thank God. If he
could just survive the rest of the courses.
Bitsy’s
soprano added, “Bless his heart, he works really hard in housekeeping.. He
cleans the fireplaces a lot, so everyone calls him Sinders, which is kind of
mean. Sadly, I don’t actually know his real name.”
Quiet.
Must be chewing.
Bitsy
piped up. “Don’t you think he’s a pretty boy, though?”
Oh crap. He held his breath. What answer
did he want? He should want Armitage to say no he hadn’t noticed such a thing,
but…
“Yeah,
I was thinking that earlier. He’s as pretty as a girl under those glasses.”
Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t want Armitage to
notice him, did he? Oh God, he just wanted to be anonymous and get the job done
and make his money and… Oh Jesus, his cock was a steel rod. Just the thought
that the damned billionaire’s son thought he was pretty did it for him to the
max.
Bitsy
wouldn’t leave it alone. “He’s prettier than most girls.” Quiet. “My mother
hates it when I say that.”
“Oh,
why?”
Mark
couldn’t believe they were still talking about him.
“Because
he’s a little strange with that cap and all, and he’s gay and Mother doesn’t
like to think there’s anything good about a person like that.”
That
got rid of his hard-on.
More
quiet. “Uh, your mother doesn’t like gay men?”
“Are
you kidding? I think she would’ve joined the Tea Party if it wasn’t so damned
blue collar and trailer park.” Pause. “Of course, there’s a trailer or two in
some recent generations of my family.” She laughed, and Armitage joined in.
“I
gather you don’t agree with her?”
“About
Sinders?”
“That
and being gay, uh, and such.”
She
laughed again. “My mother and I can barely agree on whether the sun is
shining.” Pause. “And I have nothing against being gay. Nothing at all.”
Maybe
they were done with their salads and he could get them to change this fucking
conversation. He ladled some tomato bisque into two porcelain bowls, put them
on the tray and added the spoons and condiments and set the whole thing on the
counter.
Why
did that soup make him think of licking it out of Ash’s belly button? God, he
had to get a grip. He bumped the door with his hip to give some warning. “Are
you ready for your soup, sir?”
“Uh,
yes, thank you. The salad was great.” Mark could tell from the cautious look in
the man’s eyes that he was considering whether Mark had heard what they said.
It was easy to forget servants behind closed doors.
He
walked in and took away the salad plates. “I’m glad you liked it.” How
invisible could he seem? Trying not to show how badly he wanted out of there,
he put the plates in the kitchen and served the soup, then barricaded himself
behind the door, breathing hard. Talk about hard. Thank God for his room
service jacket. It hid the boner he got just hearing that guy’s voice. This too
would pass. Breathe and don’t listen.
The
soup wouldn’t last long. He pulled the plates from the warmer and began to lay
out garnish. Parsley. Didn’t he remember a legend that said parsley grew for
the wicked, but not for the just? Then, man, it should grow for him right now
because his thoughts were not available on network TV. Maybe he’d chew a little
parsley to disguise the smell of Ash’s cum on his breath. God, that stopped him
dead. What a thought. Get to work.
Leaning
toward the door, he heard soupspoons lightly scraping the bottoms of bowls. He
plated the prime rib and new potatoes, took a deep breath so he wouldn’t smell
Ash’s aftershave, and went into the dining room and removed the soup bowls.
Back in the kitchen, he added the Brussels sprouts and spooned au jus over the meat. Rich aromas filled
the room. Made his mouth water. He hadn’t had more than ten minutes for dinner.
Quietly, he slipped into the dining room and served the main course.
Armitage
smiled. Oh, God save him. “This looks delicious.”
Bitsy
leaned back and looked up at him. “Hey, Sinders, you’re really good at this.
They should let you be a waiter full time and get you out of those damned
fireplaces.”
He
wished. “Thank you, Miss Fanderel, but I think they usually have enough
waiters.”
“You’re
better than most of the waiters I’ve seen.”
“I
don’t mind the fireplaces, miss. It’s job security. Nobody else wants to do
it.” He grinned, and she laughed. “Enjoy your meal.”
Back
in the kitchen, he sighed. That was nice of her. Now, if he could just…
The
voice penetrated beyond the door. “So I hear you’re thinking of getting
married.”
Mark’s
spine turned to ice. He should leave. Go out in the hall. But his feet crept
closer to the door all by themselves.
Ash’s
melodious voice. “Uh, yes. Yes, I am.”
“People
usually decide to get married after meeting someone they love. Your process
seems backward.”
God,
he wished he could be that direct.
“I
like you.”
Mark’s
breath caught at Armitage’s comment. Was he going to propose?
“That’s
nice, but what does it have to do with your decision to get married?”
“I’m
not sure, but I really like no-bullshit people. You saw that with Ronnie.”
“Yes,
I saw it with Ronnie, but with you? Not so much. You seem to be mired in
bullshit.”
Wow. The woman knew no fear.
“Nietzsche
said, ‘He who cannot lie doesn’t know the meaning of truth,’ or something like
that.” He laughed.
“You’re
quoting Nietzsche to me? Really?” She laughed. “But, seriously, why on earth
would you come to a place like this to find a woman you don’t know to marry? In
all your—what?—twenty-four, twenty-five years, you haven’t found a single
likely candidate and suddenly you have to find someone to marry today? That is
the biggest bullshit I’ve ever heard.”
Mark
agreed, but nobody had asked him. He pressed his ear closer.
“It’s
complicated.”
Bitsy
laughed. “No shit?”
“Let
me say that the woman I marry stands to gain significantly from the
arrangement.”
“In
money, I assume. Not from the pleasure of your company.”
He
laughed again. “I really do like you. Yes, in money. But the person will be
stuck with me for an extended period of time. The provisions of the will say I
can’t divorce for ten years. At that point, the woman can leave with a
substantial settlement.”
Mark
felt his hands shaking.
Her
voice. “I guess it’s no worse than marriage transactions through the
centuries.”
“Exactly.”
“But
don’t you have a girlfriend, someone close, who can slip into this
arrangement?”
“I
want it to be impersonal. I have no real desire to marry, so I want the woman I
choose to be entering a business arrangement and nothing more.” There was a
pause. Was Bitsy thinking it over? Armitage’s voice. “Of course, it’d be nice
if I liked the woman.”
Big
pause. Mark held his breath.
Bitsy
sounded thoughtful. “Ash, I like you, too, despite your bullshit, but I don’t
want to get married.”
“Well,
that sounds perfect then.”
“No.
As much as I’d love to have the money to do anything I want, the problem is
there are too many strings on that money. It would give you and others a say in
how I live my life, and I don’t want that. I don’t want that more than I want
the money.”
“See
even that is attractive. Won’t you think about it?”
She
laughed. “It’s complicated.”
Well,
shit, for all intents and purposes, Armitage had proposed to Bitsy. Why the
hell was Mark’s stomach in knots? What did he expect or hope for? Why was he
obsessed with this man? He was sick. He didn’t believe in hoping for breakfast
in the morning, much less to have a man like Ashton Armitage.
He
sighed. He had to make his hands quit shaking. Had to stop thinking about those
two in the dining room.
Oh
shit, he couldn’t. Ash had asked her to marry him. At least she’d turned the
billionaire down. But for how long? Could her sterling character really stand
up to all that money?
He
managed to get through dessert, cleared the table and left with Armitage and
Bitsy sitting on the couch together. He wanted to cry, even though he had a
huge tip in his pocket. It made him understand Bitsy. He might trade the money
for never having been there at all.
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