New Release: Undercover Lovers by R.J. Scott

Bodyguards 4Book 4 in the Bodyguards Inc series: Out July 31st


Book 1 – Bodyguard to a Sex God

Book 2 – The Ex Factor

Book 3 – Max and the Prince


Ross and Kyle’s story.

Even if Ross and Kyle make it out of this alive, will the secrets in Kyle’s heart stay safe? 

Kyle gets caught up in a case that is entirely unrelated to Bodyguards Inc. Not only does he abruptly need time off, but he has to have absolute trust and complete support from Ross without being able to tell Ross a thing.

CIA Agent Stefan Mortimer needs Kyle’s help with a case of a geneticist and a missing formula. Trouble is being led right to Kyle’s door, endangering the life of the team he has built and the man that he loves.

Going undercover, with Ross as his husband, is the worst kind of torture in so many ways, but it is the only answer. Kyle and Ross may well live through this but Kyle is convinced his heart won’t survive.


Chapter 1 

As soon as Max left the room, Kyle reached for the phone. He hesitated, with his fingers an inch from the handset, and listened to its beep indicating a call waiting.

Stefan Mortimer was at the other end of the call. That was a name Kyle hadn’t expected to hear again for a very long time, and the fact the man had contacted Kyle didn’t bode well. Especially considering Kyle thought, his and Stefan’s association had been put to bed a long time ago. A twinge of guilt accompanied the memories. He’d been the one told to leave, he was the one who’d had no choice but to go, but leaving Stefan behind had never sat well with him.

A combination of anxiety and fear fluttered in his chest as he picked up the handset and pressed the button to connect.

Only to be offered a line that was dead.

“Stefan?” Kyle said to the empty air. For a second he held the receiver to his ear, then, very deliberately, replaced the handset in the cradle. Kyle rested his head on his hands, scrubbing his face to clear the tension. When the door opened, he knew it was Ross. He always knew when it was Ross.

“He got cut off,” Ross announced.

Kyle nodded. “So I see.”

Ross sat down in the visitor’s chair directly opposite. “Is he a new client? Should I start a file for him?”

“No, an old….” How could he describe Stefan? Ex-lover, partner, old friend? “Someone I knew.”

Ross eased forward in his chair, his gray eyes bright with interest. “Knew? Like you used your experience as a spy to know?” he asked in his usual inquisitive tone.

“From before,” Kyle said. He was deliberately vague. As he was every time anyone at Bodyguards Inc. skirted near what Kyle used to do for a living. Ross loved to tease that Kyle had been CIA black ops. To be honest, Ross wasn’t that far from the truth—but that had been a long time ago now.


Competition to win $15 Amazon/Are giftcard, and 2 further prizes of RJ Scott e-books – closes 8th August at 00:01 GMT (London)

<a class=”rcptr” href=”; rel=”nofollow” data-raflid=”f922301b55″ data-theme=”classic” data-template=”” id=”rcwidget_nsqx06q8″>a Rafflecopter giveaway</a><script src=”//”></script>




Sapphire Cay Bundle on Sale

To celebrate the release of Forever in the Sun, book 6 in the Sapphire Cay series, Love Lane is releasing books 1-3 as a special bundle. Normally retailing at $8.97 (3x$2.99), all three are bundled for $4.98. That’s 101 000 words and a 33% saving!

Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK) | All Romance  


Follow The Sun

Buy links, reviews and excerpts here

Dylan is a free spirit running from a life he doesn’t want, Lucas is a businessman killing himself slowly with long days and seven day weeks at work. When the workaholic meets the beach bum how can they see eye to eye, let alone fall in love? 

Sapphire Cay – such a romantic setting

Under The Sun

Buy links, reviews and excerpts here

When the over the top wedding planner Edward shows up and practically has an aneurysm, Jamie will either kill him or fall for him. How could anyone not love a slightly OCD, flamboyant wedding planner, who carries his diary near and dear to his heart and a hot stud of an ex-Marine?

Who can resist a hot marine and a sexy wedding planner finding love in a romantic settings?

Chase The Sun

Six years ago, Adam broke Scott’s heart, but now he’s back in Scott’s life and Scott is rightly suspicious. Is it a case of second chances? Or will history repeat itself?

The first step to loving Adam is to forgive him.

COMING 14th August, the final book in the series…

Will Lucas and Dylan’s happy ever after be able to weather the storm that is heading for Sapphire Cay?

Join characters old and new as we celebrate Dylan and Lucas’s wedding and delve into the history of Sapphire Cay.

Connor and Shaun are directly related to Peter and Alfie, a couple whose clandestine lover affair was overshadowed by old prejudices and a world war. Shaun Jamieson is a writer, a romantic and needs to pen the story of the affair’s final secrets; Connor French’s family wants to stop Shaun.

When the two men step onto the sands of Sapphire Cay, they find more than just the secrets of an old love. They find hope and comfort in each other. But with the past hanging over them, can they ever have what Peter and Alfie could not? Or are they just as ill-fated as their ancestors?

With feuding families, unearthed secrets, and a violent storm that threatens the Cay, will the idyllic island with her cast of characters make it through unscathed? It’s time for the circle to close on the story of Sapphire Cay, and on the men who have lived and found love on her beaches.






After a disastrous breakup with his deranged boyfriend, Jake sees himself forced to go back to his parents’ house. What was supposed to be a calm return to gather himself, turns out to be an intense and complicated journey where Jake has to confront a bigoted father who is constantly degrading him, take care of a sick mother who was never bold enough to speak her mind and deal with the not-so-over relationship.
Jake embarks on a journey that brings him the pain from his past, long lost friends and old passions that could be reignited if Jake has the courage to overcome his lingering inner fears.

Will Jake defeat his deepest fears in order to become who he truly is?

Available now from and



Shield Captain Bennet is on Telnos, a unpleasant little planet inhabited by religious fanatics and unregistered miners running illegal solactinium mines. It’s about to be about to be overrun by the Maess. Bennet’s job is to get out as many civilians as he can, but the enemy arrives before the evacuation is complete. Caught in a vicious fire fight, Bennet is left behind, presumed dead.

His family is grieving. Joss, his long-term partner, grieves with them; lost, unhappy, remorseful. First Lieutenant Flynn has no official ‘rights’ here. He isn’t family. He isn’t partner or lover.

All he is, is broken.

Available now from Wilde City and ARe



Three sexy lighthearted reads that are guaranteed to put a smile on your face.

An accident with a cardboard box is the start of a beautiful friendship—with benefits—between newly out Mark and gorgeous removal man Jamie. As Jamie initiates Mark into the joys of gay sex, “nothing serious” might turn into something important to both of them.

Noah’s nothing special. Average height, a bit on the skinny side, and cute but rather geeky, he’s relentlessly ordinary. He certainly doesn’t expect to be noticed by Sol, the gorgeous stranger Noah sees on his commute home most days. Noah’s friend, Dom, has a plan to get Sol’s attention—if Noah is willing to take the risk.

Aiden gets talked into joining a team for the Mad Mucker—a twelve-mile muddy slog over an obstacle course—and Matt agrees to be his training partner. Attraction flares, and they embark on an intense physical relationship. But keeping to their “no strings attached” agreement might prove as much of a challenge as the race.


“MARK… MARK!” The loud banging on the door and Rachel’s raised voice were just audible over the sound of the shower water. “They’re here!”

“Shit!” Mark cursed as he dropped the soap. Shampoo ran into his eyes while he crouched down and scrabbled around his feet trying to get a grip on it. He found it and stood up again, then turned the water off for a minute so he could hear Rachel properly. He scrunched his eyes shut against the burn of the shampoo. “They’re early,” he yelled back. “They weren’t supposed to be here till nine!”

“Well, that’s not my problem. I have to leave now or I’ll be late for work. I’ll just tell them to make a start. You’d better hurry up and get out, though, so you can make sure they don’t take anything of mine by mistake.”

“Okay,” Mark sighed. He turned the shower back on and let the warm water pour over him, washing the suds away until his eyes stopped stinging. “Bye, Rach!” he yelled as an afterthought, too late. She’d already gone.

They’d said their official good-byes the night before over a bottle of wine and a few shots of whiskey, but it was really more of an au revoir. They had too many friends in common not to keep in touch—even if it would be difficult for a while—and things were fairly amicable between them, given the circumstances.

Rachel had been pretty understanding about everything once she’d calmed down and recovered from her initial shock and disbelief. They’d talked for hours on that long and sleepless night a few weeks before when Mark had finally found the courage to tell her he was gay.

“But are you sure?” she’d said. “How do you know for sure, Mark?

He’d shrugged, finding it hard to meet her eyes. They were red from crying, and Mark could read the betrayal on her face. It hurt his heart to look at her. “I just know. I think I’ve always known, but I spent a long time lying to myself.”

Ending the relationship with Rachel wasn’t something Mark had taken lightly. They’d been together since their second year at Manchester University—for nine years—and living together for six, much to the horror of Mark’s mother back home in Ireland. Things had been easy between them for most of that time; they’d always got on well and enjoyed each other’s company. Mark had tried very hard to ignore the fact that they felt more like friends than lovers. He’d blamed his lack of interest in sex on work pressure and tiredness. He convinced himself it was normal for the spark to burn out in a long-term relationship—conveniently ignoring that there had never been much of a spark to start with. The pressure from his mother to propose and make an honest woman of her was what finally drove Mark out of his self-imposed closet and made him admit to himself he could never be happy with a woman. Not that he was totally out of the closet yet, by any means, but at least he’d finally admitted to Rachel why he didn’t want to marry her.

Rachel’s disbelief had turned to hurt and anger, but her anger had eventually shifted to resignation and acceptance. Mark didn’t think Rachel would be putting up rainbow flags for him anytime soon or setting him up on dates with other men, but he hoped their friendship would remain. Friendship was the bedrock their relationship had been built on, and Mark would never want to lose that.

He stepped out onto the bathmat and dried off, toweling his hair roughly before wrapping the towel around his slim hips. Mark wiped the condensation off a small patch of the mirror and grimaced at his reflection. His face looked pale and tired beneath its sprinkling of freckles from the late night with Rachel and too much booze. He ran his fingers through his messy red hair, darkened to chestnut by the water. He heard the heavy tread of feet on the stairs and the rumble of male voices outside the bathroom door.

Fucking removal men. Why were they so early?

“Ah, bollocks!” he cursed as he realized he hadn’t brought any clean clothes in with him. Oh, well. Nothing else for it. He gripped his towel with one hand and unlocked the bathroom door, venturing out onto the landing. All clear. He hurried down to the spare room he’d been sleeping in for the past few weeks, pushed the door open, and froze. There in front of him was the most outrageously perfect specimen of manhood Mark had ever seen outside porn or Men’s Health magazine.

Mark’s gaze started somewhere around chest level because the width of those shoulders just drew the eye. The man was wearing a dark blue T-shirt with the words RICK’S REMOVALS emblazoned on the front in large white letters. The shirt was stretched tightly over powerful muscles and only just covered the belt loops of the guy’s low-slung jeans. Mark’s eyes dropped instinctively lower, checking out the bulge at his groin. Nice, very nice indeed. It was around then that Mark’s brain came back online, and he realized he was staring blatantly at the crotch of a total stranger. A total stranger who was built like a brick shithouse and could probably break Mark in half one-handed.

Mark felt his face flame and the heat of his blush spread down his neck and chest in a sweeping tide of mortification. He dragged his gaze up to the man’s face—which was fucking gorgeous too: chiseled, square-jawed, and boyish—and found himself looking at gray-blue eyes that were staring at his nipples. “Um… hi there,” Mark said, feeling more than a little out of his depth.

The man’s eyes snapped up to his face. “Sorry, mate.” He smiled a little awkwardly. “Let me just grab a box and I’ll leave you in peace to… you know….” He gestured aimlessly at the clothes laid out on Mark’s bed. A tatty old pair of gray briefs that had seen better days sat in pride of place on top of the pile.

“Yeah, okay.” Mark’s eyes followed the man’s movement as he bent his knees and lifted up a huge box with ease. Mark knew for a fact that it contained nearly all his books about programming. He’d nearly ruptured himself just moving it from the bed to the floor last night when he’d finished packing it. The man’s biceps bulged, perfect curves beneath sleek golden skin. Mark swallowed hard and moved aside to let him out, turning his body away. He willed his cock to behave and not embarrass him further.

“Cheers.” As he squeezed past in the narrow space, the man’s arm brushed Mark’s shoulder blade and Mark felt the warm thrill of it tingle down his spine.

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Mark turned his head and watched the removal guy’s broad shoulders as he edged carefully through the doorway. He damn nearly filled the doorframe. Mark wasn’t a small man at six foot one, but this guy must be at least four inches taller than he was. Mark’s eyes slid down to check out his arse, safe in the knowledge he could ogle without discovery now that the guy’s back was turned. Those broad shoulders tapered beautifully down to slim hips and the generous curve of his arse filled his jeans out nicely.

Fuck. Mark’s cock swelled under his towel. Get a fucking grip.

ONCE MARK was dressed and had managed to persuade his prick to calm the fuck down, he made his way down to the kitchen and put the kettle on. He could hear voices outside, but the house seemed to be empty. He followed the sounds out to the street where the removal van was parked. Mark didn’t have loads of stuff to move so he hadn’t needed a lorry; a van and two men were what the removal firm had recommended. Most of the furniture was staying with Rachel, but as Mark was moving into an unfurnished flat, there were a few bits and pieces he was taking.

The guy from his bedroom was loading Mark’s desk into the van with another equally huge man.

“Hi,” Mark greeted them, thinking he’d start from scratch and try to pretend the embarrassing bedroom encounter had never happened. “Do you want a cup of tea or coffee?”

“That’d be grand.” The not-bedroom guy grinned at him. He jumped down out of the van, followed by the man Mark had already met. “Two white teas, thanks. No sugar for me, but my little brother, Jamie here, will have two. I’m Ryan, by the way.” He offered his hand to Mark.

“Mark O’Brien.” He had to look up to meet the man’s eyes—they were blue, like his brother’s, but his hair was brown instead of blond. Mark shook Jamie’s hand too, trying not to blush like a fucking schoolgirl when Jamie smiled at him. “I’ll go and make the tea.” He could still feel where Jamie’s warm skin had touched his palm.

“We’re to pack all the boxes, yeah?” Ryan asked. “You’re… uh…. The lady who let us in said everything that’s packed up is going to your new place?”

Mark wondered how many other couples they’d seen go through this. The dividing and separating of joint possessions, a life together taken apart and reduced to arguments about who gets which frying pan, armchair, or duvet.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “But only pack the furniture that’s marked with stickers. The rest is to stay.”


MARK TRIED to stay out of their way as much as possible. He still had his last few odds and ends to pack up; some kitchen things, bathroom stuff he’d been using that morning, and some clothes in the room he’d been sleeping in. It was a small two-bedroom house and inevitably, he kept running into Ryan and Jamie in the hallway or on the landing as they went in and out with his boxes of stuff. Every time he saw Jamie, they’d exchange awkward smiles and Mark’s heart would go into overdrive, pounding against his rib cage. It was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help himself.

He was in the spare room, packing up a few clothes that were still lying around and checking the drawers to make sure he hadn’t left anything, when there was a knock on the door. It was standing open anyway, but someone obviously wasn’t taking any chances.

“Come in.” Mark lifted his head to see Jamie as he pushed the door wide to enter.

Jamie cleared his throat. “We’re nearly done downstairs now. Ryan’s just moving the last boxes from the kitchen, then there’s the TV and the armchair from the living room that are coming too. Can I take the rest of the stuff from in here now?”

“Sure.” Mark nodded. “There isn’t much left.”

Jamie stooped to lift a middle-sized box off the floor by the bed. As he swung it up and shifted his arms to get a better grip on it, the tape on the bottom of the box started to give way and Jamie swore, trying to hold it together as he went to place it back down.

Mark looked up and realized what was happening. He leapt up, reaching to support the bottom of the box, but he was too late. The contents spilled out all over Jamie’s feet and the bedroom floor.

Fuck, fuck, fuck-it-all! Of all the fucking boxes that could have split, it had to be this one!

“Oh bugger, sorry,” Jamie apologized. “I hope there was nothing breakable in here. Have you got some more tape so I can fix the box and pack it back up?”

“Uh… yeah, in the kitchen I think.” Please go and get it, please. Just go away and don’t look, because I’ve already embarrassed myself enough in front of you for one day.

Mark dropped to his knees and started frantically grabbing at the items on the floor, but he had nothing to put them into, nowhere to hide them. Jamie knelt down too, reaching out his huge hands to help. His fingers brushed Mark’s and then stilled as he obviously realized what he was seeing.

Mark froze, his whole body roasting with embarrassment as they both stared at the things that lay scattered over the floor. Along with a few more programming books, there were several gay porn magazines, a couple of porn DVDs, a bottle of lube, and—the icing on the cake of Mark’s mortification—a set of butt plugs in varying sizes.

Mark’s brain shut down. He literally had no idea what to say or do. He desperately tried to think of something funny to say because humor might help defuse the hideous awkwardness of this moment, but his usual banter had utterly deserted him. So he waited, like a rabbit caught in headlights, for the inevitable amusement—or worse, disgust—of the man in front of him.

But Jamie surprised him.

“I’ve seen that one. It’s really hot.” Jamie pointed to one of the DVDs. Then he picked up another one and looked at the cover. “Is this one any good?”

Mark paused for a moment before answering. His thoughts and assumptions slid around and slotted into completely different places, like one of those sliding block puzzles he’d loved as a kid.

“Um… yeah,” he finally managed. “Yeah. It was okay, I guess.” He raised his eyes to meet Jamie’s, and Jamie gave him a small, shy smile. His cheeks were pink too, but nothing like the sizzling scarlet Mark’s must be.

“I guess this is why you’re moving out, then?” Jamie waved the DVD. “Sorry… I know it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mark blurted out. He suddenly realized he really wanted to talk about this with someone other than Rachel, even though it was someone he’d only just met. “And yeah. That’s why. There’s not much you can do to fix things when you work out that the person you’re with is the wrong sex.”

Mark reached for the holdall he’d been shoving his clothes into when the box disaster happened and started packing away the stuff on the floor. Jamie helped him; their hands touched again as they both reached for the butt plugs at the same time.

“I knew from when I was a kid,” Jamie said. His voice was matter-of-fact. “I always knew I didn’t like girls that way.”

“I think I just wanted to be what people expected me to be,” Mark admitted. “I had a strict Irish Catholic upbringing… I was taught homosexuality is a sin. I pushed those desires so far down that I managed to kid myself for a long time. But I couldn’t ignore it forever.”

“Does your family know yet?”

“I told my mum when I told her Rachel and I were splitting up.” Mark put the last few items from his porn stash into the bag and zipped it up tight, hiding the evidence. “I wasn’t planning on telling her like that, over the phone. But she kept pushing me, wanting to know why we couldn’t work things out.”

“How did she take it?” Jamie frowned.

Mark wrinkled his nose. “Better than I’d hoped, I guess. I mean… she didn’t like it, she didn’t understand it. But I’m not an outcast or anything. I have two older sisters and they’re fine with it. I think my mum’s just disappointed, you know? She really wanted me and Rachel to get married and have a family.” Mark remembered how his mum had cried while they’d talked on the phone, the ache in his chest as he’d tried to hold it together. “I’m hoping she’ll get used to the idea eventually.”

“And your dad?”

“He died a couple of years ago.” Mark avoided Jamie’s eyes, not wanting to see the sympathy he knew would be there. “Heart attack. But he would have found it harder.” The relief Mark felt at never having to have that conversation with his dad made him feel guilty every day.

“So… are you involved with anyone?” Jamie asked. “Like… was it meeting someone—a man—that made you work it out?”

“No.” Mark shook his head vehemently. “No way. I wouldn’t have done that to Rachel. No, it’s all academic—well, apart from a hand job from another boy at school when I was sixteen, which I tried really hard to forget about.” He grinned ruefully and blushed again. “I haven’t had a chance to test out the theory yet, but I’m pretty sure it’s a sound one.”

“It’d be a bit of a pisser if you’re wrong.” Jamie grinned back.

“I’m not wrong.” Mark let his gaze skim over the strong width of Jamie’s shoulders and chest before returning to his eyes. Definitely not wrong.

Jamie looked back at him and neither spoke for a moment. They were both still kneeling on the carpet, the programming books on the floor between them and the holdall clutched on Mark’s lap. Jamie’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully and then twinkled with mischief. “You could test it out on me if you like.”

Mark gaped at him, trying to decide whether he was joking or serious. He wasn’t sure how to respond either way. “I… I don’t….” He trailed off, lost for words.

“No big deal.” Jamie opened his hands in a “whatever” gesture and shrugged his shoulders. “I just thought you might want to fool around, experiment a bit. Sounds like you’ve got some catching up to do, and I could help you with that.”

Fuck, maybe he really is serious.

“Okay, yeah,” Mark blurted out before he could talk himself out of it. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweaty where they gripped the bag in his lap. “Yeah.”

Jamie’s face broke into a smile again. “Cool.”

Just then Ryan’s voice carried up the stairs. “Jamie, where the hell are you, you lazy bastard?” His tone was teasing rather than genuinely annoyed.

“Sorry, Ryan,” Jamie shouted back. “Just sorting out a box that split.” He winked at Mark, then stood up swiftly. He moved with remarkable agility considering his size, Mark noticed, as he scrambled up with much less grace. Jamie pulled his phone out of his back pocket and tapped at the screen. “What’s your number, then?”

Mark got his phone out too and they swapped contact details.

“Will it be okay for me to come over to your new place?” Jamie asked. “I still live at home because I’m at college—I just help out Ryan occasionally on a Saturday to earn a bit of extra cash, but I can’t afford a place of my own. My parents wouldn’t mind me bringing you home as long as we’re quiet, but I thought you might prefer….”

“Oh, God, yes. I’ll be living alone so you can come to mine.” Mark could only imagine the awkwardness of being paraded in front of someone’s parents as a booty call. And the thought of them overhearinganything that might go on made his dick want to crawl back into his body.

“Well, we can work out the details later.” Jamie pushed his phone back into his pocket and reached for another box to carry down. “I’d better get on with this before Ryan loses his cool.”

Jamie shouldered his way through the partially open door, and Mark listened to the heavy tread of his boots on the stairs as he descended.

What the fuck just happened?

Mark sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his hands through his messy curls of red hair. He was still running on adrenaline after being outed by a cardboard box and being propositioned by someone who looked like all his wank fantasies rolled into one.

Maybe this was just a dream and he’d wake up any minute to find that Friday hadn’t actually started yet. But it felt pretty damn real. He huffed out a bark of surprised laughter. Welcome to your new life, Mark O’Brien. Come on down! He could almost hear the audience applauding.

Available now at,

Sue Brown: The Layered Mask


Now out from Dreamspinner, a Regency love story.

Threatened by his father with disinheritance, Lord Edwin Nash arrives in London with a sole purpose: to find a wife. A more than eligible bachelor, and titled to boot, the society matrons see to it he’ll be shackled to one of the girls by the end of the season.

During a masquerade ball, Nash hides from the ladies vying for his attention. He is discovered by Lord Thomas Downe, the Duke of Lynwood. Nash is horrified when Downe calmly tells him that he knows the secret that Nash has hidden for years, and that he sees through the mask that Edwin presents to the rest of the world.

And then he offers him an alternative.

BUYLINKS: Dreamspinner: Amazon UK: ARe



“Good evening, Downe.”

Thomas Downe, the present Duke of Lynwood, smiled at the greeting from his friend. “Evening, Leicester. I’m surprised to see you here. The weather has been foul.”

Lord Leicester sat in the high wing-back chair next to his. They were the closest to the fire in the large study, and Downe appreciated the warmth after the chill of the winter’s day. “I was in London to see my solicitor. The rain was so heavy I’ve delayed my return to the country for a day or two. Can’t afford to lose another carriage to the mud.”

“Or the horses,” Downe said.

At the start of the winter, Leicester had been lucky to survive a serious accident after a landslip that had cost him a new carriage and pair.

“Or the horses,” Leicester agreed. “I thought I was going to lose my stable master. He was distraught after the accident. It was only the gift of Gideon’s foal that calmed him down.”

Downe smiled at his friend. “I’m only too pleased to restore calm in your household.”

Gideon was Downe’s prize bay stallion and giving his first foal was no small gift, but then Leicester was no ordinary friend. Downe would have given twice that to have his friend happy and laughing next to him.

Leicester looked speculatively at Downe. “If you don’t mind me saying, you look a little gloomy.”

“I—” Downe expelled a long breath. “I can’t deny I feel a little below par today.”

“For any particular reason?” Leicester smiled and murmured his thanks as a footman brought a pot of coffee and set it at the small table by his elbow.

Downe waited until the footman had poured the coffee and retreated before he answered. “’Twas my birthday a sennight ago.”

“Seven-and-twenty.” Leicester smiled. “I remember.”

“You always remember, my dear friend. You sent me a fine red.”

“More than one, as I recall. But why should that make you gloomy?”

Downe huffed loudly. “The Valentine’s Ball is in a few days.”

Leicester groaned just as loudly. “You think I don’t know? Charlotte and Elizabeth have driven me to distraction with their preparations.”

“They are coming?” Downe was surprised. Leicester’s wife and children spent most of the year in the country, none of them having a taste for Town.

“My eldest grandchild is being presented this year. They will be in town for the season.”

“I had no idea she was old enough to be presented to the king. The last time I saw, she was a mere slip of a thing.” Life was flying by far too quickly for Downe’s liking.

“To me she’s still a mere slip of a thing, as are you, my friend.”

Downe shook his head. “I am getting old, Monty. It is time I took a wife and started a family.”

Leicester frowned. “What brought this on? I thought matrimony was the last thing on your mind.”

“I’m….” Downe trailed off. In truth, the thought of a wife and squalling brats made him feel nauseous, but Leicester knew that as well as he did.

“Lonely?” Leicester suggested gently.

“Sometimes,” Downe agreed.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been involved with anyone.”

“Over three years aside from the occasional visit to the Blue.”

The end of Downe’s last relationship had been so vicious, it had curdled his desire for another for a while. But “for a while” had extended beyond Downe’s expectations as he had dealt with the loss of his parents and his sister had been widowed and returned to the family household. The Blue, a brothel he had been visiting for many years, satiated his physical desires. The madam was handsomely paid to supply his demands and keep her mouth shut.

Leicester frowned, his green eyes fierce. “You don’t want a wife, Thomas.”

Downe smiled at him. “You only call me Thomas when you think I’m being stupid.”

“Or when we made love.”

Downe didn’t bother to look around to see if anyone was listening. They were in a safe place where they could be honest with each other. “Or when we made love. But that was a long time ago.”

Leicester leaned forward and took Downe’s hand. “Do you need…? We could go upstairs.”

Downe looked at their entwined hands. Despite the fact Leicester was fifteen years older than him, he was one of the most attractive men Downe had ever met, his dark hair graying slightly at the temples and green eyes framed by long lashes. A few years ago, he would have jumped at the opportunity to take Leicester to bed. As a young man, Downe had fallen desperately in love with Leicester, but age had brought wisdom and more than a little resignation. The attraction between them was mutual and occasionally flared into something physical, but they weren’t destined for anything long-term because Leicester’s heart belonged to someone else. Downe accepted their friendship as a blessing because Leicester had shown him how to be the man he was today.

He brushed the back of Leicester’s knuckles. “I am tempted,” he admitted, his voice hoarse in its honesty. “But it wouldn’t help. Not today.”

Leicester pressed a hot kiss into Downe’s palm. “I understand, my friend. I truly do.” He let go of Downe’s hand and sat back to signal for more coffee.

“If your wife is in town, will you be at the dinner tonight?” Downe asked.

“Of course. She has plans to visit my son. His wife is unwell, and she wants to check on her.”

“Will Asher be here?”

Leicester’s face softened as Downe mentioned the name of the man he had loved for over twenty years. They were the owners of the Gentlemen’s Club and an enigma Downe had never cracked. The love between them was passionate and fierce, but as far as everyone knew, they had never consummated it. They both had taken lovers over the years, yet their hearts remained only for each other.

“He will be.”

“I look forward to seeing him.”

Downe had been away from London for many weeks dealing with business interests at his various properties. He’d missed his weekly dinner at  the club and looked forward to reconnecting himself with his friends. “Tell me what’s been happening.”

“Did you hear about Walsey?” Leicester asked.


“He was found balls-deep in some young whore when he should have been in Parliament.”

Downe wrinkled his brow. The Walsey he knew was a terrible bore and someone to avoid at all costs. “Deadly-dull, God-fearing Walsey?”

“The very same.”

“So he can get it up for a young filly. Good for him.”

Leicester’s lips twitched. “It wasn’t a young filly.”

Downe’s eyes opened wide. “He was screwing a boy? The old hypocrite!” Downe had been subject to many a lecture on sodomy when he’d had the misfortune to cross paths with Walsey.

“Caught hook, line, and sinker by his wife.”

“Where is he now?”

Leicester sobered. “He’s in Newgate.”

The amusement slid off Downe’s face. All of them faced the possibility of the same nightmare. Being caught with a man and sentenced to hard labor—or worse.

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“His wife is determined to have her pound of flesh.”

“Is there something we can do?”

“I don’t know, my friend. I really don’t know.”

They both knew that attempting to intervene laid them open to the same kind of charges.

“We should be extra careful,” Downe said.

“I agree, but that doesn’t mean you need to take a wife. Even at your vast age of seven-and-twenty. You have plenty of time to make that decision.”

“You were married with two children by my age,” Downe pointed out.

“Because I knew I could never have Asher.” Leicester gave a wry smile. “My wife is a remarkable woman.”

“She knows.”

It wasn’t a question. Downe had met Leicester’s wife on more than one occasion, and he knew that she was, as Leicester said, a remarkable woman, aware of where her husband’s true heart lay. She accepted it for a stable marriage, a beautiful home, two children, and many dogs. Downe knew that many wives among his acquaintance did the same. He didn’t like imposing that on any woman, but the alternative…. The alternative was Walsey’s fate.

It didn’t stop him being lonely, though.

Sue’s bio:


Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn’t following their orders, she can be found plotting at her laptop. Sue discovered M/M romance at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favourite television series. The kissing was hot and tender and Sue wanted to write about this men. She may be late to the party, but she’s made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

Sue’s internet links

Susan Mac Nicol: Anniversary Tour

The wonderful and very talented Susan Mac Nicol is celebrating two years in M/M Romance and today she celebrates with us.



Author Bio:


Susan Mac Nicol is a self confessed bookaholic, an avid watcher of videos of sexy pole dancing men, geek, nerd and in love with her Smartphone. This little treasure is called ‘the boyfriend’ by her long suffering husband, who says if it vibrated, there’d be no need for him. Susan hasn’t had the heart to tell him there’s an app for that…

She is never happier than when sitting in the confines of her living room/study/on a cold station platform scribbling down words and making two men fall in love. She is a romantic at heart and believes that everything happens (for the most part) for a reason.  She likes to think of herself as a ‘half full’ kinda gal, although sometimes that philosophy is sorely tested.

Lover of walks in the forest, theatre productions, dabbling her toes in the cold North Sea and the vibrant city of London where you can experience all four seasons in a day , she is a hater of pantomime (so please don’t tar and feather her), duplicitous people, bigotry and self righteous idiots.

In an ideal world, Susan Mac Nicol would be Queen of England and banish all the bad people to the Never Never Lands of Wherever -Who Cares. As that’s never going to happen, she contents herself with writing her HEA stories and pretending, that just for a little while, good things happen to good people.

Sue is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America and is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association in the UK.


Saving Alexander



Release Date: October 28th 2013


Punishing himself for a horrific past that is not his fault, bestselling author Alexander Montgomery seeks redemption and love—and perhaps he will find it.

Famous author though he may be, Alexander Montgomery is not someone you take home to meet your mother. Seriously flawed, damaged by a horrific past, he’s trying hard to claw his way back to normality. But how can anyone respect what he truly is? His therapy involves regular sessions at Study in Scarlet, an exclusive S&M club.

Then comes Sage. Tall, with black hair and blue eyes, an up-and-coming actor with impossible charm and boy-next-door good looks, he’s the perfect choice to play the leading man in a TV adaptation of Alex’s latest best-seller. Even more, he is a man you introduce to your family. Which Alex would do—if he weren’t taken by another man who offers the punishments Alex prays will wipe away the past and make him the person he wants to be. Yet, perhaps there is another path to redemption. If only the solution would reach out and touch him.

Buy Links:


Saving Alexander Excerpt 1

Baroque figures scattered about the room watched Alex and Eric with dead eyes, their faces pastel white and non-judgmental. The sheer opulence of the room was overwhelming.

But for Alex, this place was not about the décor or the ambience. His world revolved around the four square feet he stood on and the man standing in front of him. Eric wore a look of sheer avarice. This constituted Alex’s solace and universe when he was here. Alex’s body was bound right in the centre of this sacred space, his arms outstretched and secured to the cross. The green silk ropes binding his wrists were tight, the long, loose ends trailing down his arm, brushing his body as he moved. It tickled, the sensation sometimes driving him crazy. His legs were spread apart, ankles secured to large, golden hoops on the floor, the same type of silk ties binding them fast. He was almost on tiptoes and the muscles in his long, strong legs threatened to cramp and seize up with the effort.

Eric lifted Alex’s chin with one hand. “Look at me!” he commanded , brushing his fingertips against Alex’s two-day-old stubble.

Alex levelled his eyes to Eric’s, and he lost his breath at the greedy look in them. Not for the first time Alex wondered whether these sessions were for him or for Eric. The lines between customer and seller seemed to blur. The other man seemed to take such special pleasure in Alex.

Eric spoke huskily. “I’m going to let you go now. You know what to do.” He reached up, untying Alex’s arms and dropping the ties onto the floor. Alex stood unsteadily before him. Eric motioned imperiously with his hand. Alex walked over to the large four-poster bed in the corner of the room , lying down on his stomach and turning his head away from Eric, his arms above his head. The silk sheets felt cool and slippery against his skin, soothing the welts and injuries on the front of his body. His cock was hard, needy and he desperately wanted release. He pressed himself harder into the bed, trying to ease the ache and throbbing in his groin.