Sunday, October 19, 2014

Saving Travis Blurb & Excerpt (Taking Lance #3)

I finally typed THE END on Saving Travis, #3 in the Taking Lance series. It was a long time coming so I was thrilled to finally get the story where I wanted it. I have a bit of self-editing to do before I send it to my editor, but the first draft is officially done. Being Karen, a freebie I blogged about a few weeks ago that reintroduces Travis, will be released shortly before Saving Travis.

I don't have a cover yet, but I thought I'd throw the blurb out there and a quickie excerpt. A longer, sexier excerpt will be posted at the end of the week when I'm visiting On Top Down Under Book Reviews, but this one should give you an idea of what the story is about.

If you read Keeping Lance, you'll remember Travis Jordan as a man Rick Preston had sex with when he went a little wild one night when he thought Lance was gone for good. You will remember Marc Parker as Lance's ex-boyfriend who tried to tear Rick and Lance apart.

Note that the excerpt listed below is completely unedited and subject to change before publication. 

The photos in this post were my inspiration for Marc and Travis. A huge thanks to my editor and friend who sent me Travis (the photo) and encouraged me to take him beyond one quick sex scene with Rick Preston and Karen and her husband.

Blurb -

Travis Jordan has been running for five years. Now twenty-three, he supports himself the only way he knows how. He gave up dreams of love when he was eighteen and accepted the fact that he'd never be anything more than a paid whore. When Travis meets Marc Parker, he starts to feel things he knows he has no business feeling. Marc feels an instant connection with Travis, but he must make amends for past wrongs before he can attempt any type of relationship. Marc almost destroyed Rick Preston and Lance Scott and he can't move forward until he makes things right. When old enemies start causing trouble, can Travis and Marc band together, put their pasts behind them, and take a chance on love?

Travis and Marc were introduced in Keeping Lance, with Marc playing a major part. Everything comes full circle in Saving Travis, that can be read as a standalone

Saving Travis is part 3 of the Taking Lance series.

Tags: M/M Romance, Gay Erotica, Past Sexual Abuse, Rent Boy, Some Violence

Excerpt -

Within fifteen minutes I've been propositioned no less than a half dozen times. I said no to each one. Any other time I would be on my knees or bending over, usually several times in one night.
Come to Cheaters and Travis Jordan will spread his ass cheeks or take you down his throat.
I may be twenty-three, but look like I'm eighteen or younger. There's an endless supply of older men who get off on fucking the young ones. I am their fantasy when they know they can't really do it with someone underage. I'm only 5'5” so that plays into the fantasies of these men. They love to take control and I always allow them to. If they want to play into their daddy kink, who am I to say no? I play the game and I play it well. If the money is right, I will be the seventeen-year-old kid these guys fantasize about when they are fucking their frigid wives. If it's not, I move on to the next guy.
I didn't set out to be a rent boy. God knows I would do anything to have a normal life away from it all. I would love to find a man to fall in love with and who would make it where I never have to be fucked for money again. I'm not naive. I know that won't be happening. Everyone knows that I'm a whore. Who would want someone who has had sex with as many men as I have?
Something about what happened in that cheap motel room has me down when I've not allowed those feelings to creep into my head in a long time. It wasn't just the man who gouged me. It was the other guy, the first one who took me. Marc, the others called him. Normally names aren't exchanged in my business, but something about this guy had me paying attention. I didn't see what he looked like until he pulled out of my ass and leaned against the wall to watch. Why did I open my eyes? I always close them during paid fucks but something made me look at this Marc guy.
Sitting here now, I'm wondering why a man like that would need to hire a rent boy. Over six feet tall, he has short black hair that looked mussed, but was probably styled to look that way. He had enough facial hair to show he hadn't shaved in a day or two, but on him it was sexy as sin. He also had blue eyes that seemed to look right through me. It was that look, that piercing look, that made me feel cheap for the first time in a very long time. I'm not delusional. I accepted what I am a long time ago. The look this man gave me made me wish I was anywhere but there tonight. Why should I care how a john looks at me? There was just something about that man. He looked like someone, maybe in another life, I'd want to know.
For guys like me, there is no other life.
Maybe had I met someone like him years ago I'd be different. Maybe I would be in a happy relationship and not being forced to drop to my knees or bend over for cash.
Yeah, like that Marc guy would ever look at me sideways. I snort as I sip my drink. His jeans were designer, as was his shirt. I could probably pay a monthly mortgage payment on my apartment with what he spent on his shoes alone. That mussed up haircut no doubt cost more than my thirty dollar one. No. That man is so far out of my league he wouldn't have noticed me regardless of my profession.
One day I won't have the looks I have now and I know I'll have to do something else with my life. But right now my spiked blond hair, my short stature and my young looks have me never wanting for a trick. It's nothing for me to make several hundred – or even thousands - of dollars a night if I choose. I have a lot put away for a rainy day, as I live modestly in a small apartment in town - that I own - and only spend money on necessities. I may not have the education most of my johns have, but I was smart enough a couple of years ago to learn about investing, thanks to the help of a regular customer and his partner. When you have no one to go home to every night, you have a lot of time to learn things. My learning about stocks paid off. I could easily walk away from the profession and live comfortably for several years. I tried that a few months ago, but found myself missing it. I discovered that day that it wasn't about the money anymore. It was all about the connection with another human being, if only for long enough for that human being to get his rocks off. The days of ten dollar blows and twenty dollar fucks are long behind me. I can get any price I ask and if one isn't willing to pay, there's a long line of those who are.
I'm no longer that naive boy who believes in true love, nor am I stupid enough to believe that any of these men who fuck me see me as anything more than a tight ass or wet mouth. But yet, sometimes when I close my eyes as I'm being taken, I can pretend that I'm someone special to these men. In my head I can be someone, someone worthy of love, not that white trash whore kid who left home on foot five years prior.
My mind goes back to the man in the motel room. It's not often I allow myself to sulk about what could have been had my life been different, but tonight I can't force myself to go back to an empty apartment where I don't so much as own a pet to keep me company. What does that say about me? When I'm so desperate to be around other people that I'll sit in a crowded bar where I'm known as the best piece of ass in town? 

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