Stevie Woods:author of gay romantic fiction

July 15, 2013

New excerpt from historical novel, CONFLICT!

conflict200x300Here’s a new excerpt from my historical novel, CONFLICT, sequel to CANE, which takes the story into the Civil War.

BLURB:

Two men, one war. Can love survive when each takes a different side?

Leaving his lover behind to support the abolitionist cause, Piet Van Leyden finds himself leading one of the first all-black Union troops into the heart of battle. Reuniting with free slave and former love Joss brings some comfort, but will his presence tempt Piet into forgetting the love waiting for him at home?

Sebastian Cane wonders how he’s able to go on without Piet by his side. When a series of unfortunate events lands him a prisoner of the Union, Seb knows he must rely on his wits and his love for Piet to survive…and get home to him.

EXCERPT:

It was cold in the tent; damn it, was cold nearly all the time. It seemed forever since Pieter had actually been inside a brick building. He pulled the blanket off his cot and wrapped it around him. Pieter could hardly remember the last time he had felt really comfortable and cozy. Then he suddenly remembered one warm day, sitting on a veranda eating a picnic lunch. It had only been a couple of days after he’d arrived at Morning Star. Sebastian had been showing him around the vast plantation when they took a rest and ate. They’d sat comfortably on the wooden veranda of the old Blue Bayou plantation house, sharing a basket of food, while his new employer had told him of the history of his family and the plantation. Even then, Pieter had known he was in love with the man.

Smiling, Pieter knew it was the emotion inside that had made him feel warm that day as much as the sun beating down on them. That feeling was still there, deep inside, and as he allowed the sense memory to flow over him, Pieter’s heart beat faster. His cock filled as he imagined Sebastian’s lips on his, and his hands caressing his body. It had been so long and he missed his lover terribly.

Sighing, Pieter couldn’t deny that he regretted leaving his lover back in Louisiana, but he was honest enough to admit that he could never have stayed there in the circumstances. He wished every day that Seb could have come with him, but as much as he wished it could be otherwise, he couldn’t blame Sebastian for clinging to the only life he knew.

Belatedly, he realized that yet again his hand was in his pocket and he was running the small silver button between his fingers. He stopped the movement, grasping the button tightly and pulling it free. It rested in the palm of his hand, glinting slightly in the flickering candlelight. It was all he had of Sebastian with him and it had long been a kind of talisman. A constant reminder of the man he loved, the man he missed so very much.

Pieter could still see the look in Sebastian’s eyes as he dropped the button into his hand when he left to travel north. He had never forgotten the trust Sebastian placed in him, knowing that he would come home some day. To Pieter, wherever Sebastian was, that was home.

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July 14, 2013

CANE, a new excerpt from my historical romance

CanePhaze(200x300)I thought it was past time I posted a new excerpt from my popular historical novel, CANE:

BLURB:
Privileged young Pieter may have grown up on a sugar cane plantation, but that doesn’t mean he agrees with the way his father runs things. He falls in love with Joss, one of his father’s slaves, and their affair sets off a chain of events that is destined to tear them apart.
When Pieter’s father dies, he returns home hoping to find Joss. It’s too late for their love, but maybe it’s not too late for Pieter to find happiness. As he makes his way to America, Pieter realizes old conflicts still rage, and even as he finds a new love, danger stalks his every move. Can Pieter learn to overcome the hate and fear that threaten to tear his world apart?

Joss was working hard with the other field hands, trimming the young cane plants. He had just straightened up, stretching to ease the ache in his back, when he heard Pieter call to him.

EXCERPT:

“Joss, I need some help.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, hurrying to do his master’s bidding.

Not that Joss really thought of Pieter as his master, though he had to behave as if he did. Joss never called him master, the way some of the other slaves did. Pieter did not ask it, but the slaves were used to giving the title to the older Van Leyden and automatically used it with Pieter. To Joss, Pieter was his boyhood friend, his mentor…his lover. Joss knew he was living in a kind of limbo, knowing that his time with Pieter was temporary. Joss hated that because he really loved Pieter. He had thought at first the feelings had just been the love of a surrogate brother, but when Pieter had embraced him on his return from abroad, it wasn’t brotherly feelings that stirred deep within him.

It had been a surprise to find that Pieter had such feelings toward him, too. Joss could still remember that first time Pieter touched him. Even though he had wanted his friend’s touch, Joss had been afraid that Pieter would only be using him. The prospect of the Master exercising what many slave owners considered to be their right was a fear his sister, and the other pretty young slaves lived with constantly. Boys and men were less susceptible, and though such couplings were rare and shrouded in secrecy, they did happen.

So, when Pieter touched him with such tender reverence, Joss had been shocked. He learned then that he hadn’t been mistaken about the friend from his youth; Pieter was showing that he cared, that it wasn’t just the use of a convenient body he wanted from Joss. Pieter was seeking an emotional connection and Joss was more than happy to give it to him.

They had enjoyed each other many times since that first night almost two years ago, but Joss never forgot that first time, when he had learned that not all slave owners were the same.

He knew Pieter cared for him, loved him in a way, but also that it was not with the soul deep emotion Joss felt himself when Pieter took him, driving deep into his body. Joss didn’t know how he could sense the difference in their emotional attachment but he knew he was right. Pieter said things to him when they were having sex and Joss was sure when he spoke them aloud, Pieter believed his own words, but Joss knew that what his lover promised could never be. There was no way that he, a black slave, could ever be with a white master as anything but property to be used, a catamite. Joss had heard the word for the first time a few months back, read to him from a biblical story. He couldn’t remember which story it was, but the word he would never forget—catamite, a boy or young man kept by a sodomite. That was the reality of what Joss was, not that Pieter would ever accept it, but it was better for Joss to do so. As odd it as might sound, it was better for his peace of mind. Dreams of anything more would only destroy him. 

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March 1, 2013

5 star review for Sacrifices & Interview with Top2Bottom Reviews!

SacrificesCover200x300

 

I was spotlighted today on the Top2Bottom Review Site. I gave an interview and they reviewed one of my books.

Hopefully the interview will have revealed something interesting about me and the wonderful review will tempt readers to try Sacrifices, which is the fifth and, so far, the last book in my Tomcat Line Series!

You can read the interview here,  and the review here

For more information about the book, and the rest of the Tomcat Line series pop over to my page at MLR Press or to my website

 

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December 30, 2012

An Enigma (OW#4) 25% excerpt!

Time for another 25% excerpt and today it’s from the fourth novella from the Other Worlds Series, AN ENIGMA.

AnEnigma_medAdam panicked for a moment, unable to ignore the possibility Rafe was injured. Then he berated himself for his stupidity. First, why should Rafe be injured when Adam wasn’t? Then again, as Chris and John weren’t answering either, wasn’t it much more likely his comm-unit was damaged in the fall? Or maybe these strange walls didn’t allow the passage of comm signals?

Frustrated and not knowing what else to do, he yelled. “Anybody, anybody at all?” and was shocked when he got a reply.

“Adam! Is that you? Oh, thank God, where are you? Are you all right?”

“Rafe.” Adam almost laughed in his relief. “I knew you’d try to follow, but I wasn’t sure if you’d succeed.”

“Adam, where are you?” Rafe asked more calmly.

“I’m inside a room, a rectangle made entirely from some kind of thick, translucent glass. There is not much light and I can’t make out what is beyond the wall,” he said, approaching the nearest wall as he spoke. “It looks darker out there, though, but I—”

“Adam,” interrupted Rafe. “Stand still!”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s all right. Now move to your right just a couple of steps.”

Adam was puzzled, but he did as Rafe requested.

“Move nearer to the wall, Adam.”

“Rafe, what is it?”

“Please, Adam, I need to see if I’m right.”

“See? You…can see me?”

“Walk to the wall,” Rafe repeated.

Adam walked forward until his chest was touching the wall.

“I can’t see you clearly, Adam. I thought I could see something when you moved, and now I see a shadow where you’re standing against the wall.”

“So are you in another of these…glass rooms?” Adam asked, keeping his voice calm, though he hoped Rafe wasn’t trapped, too.

“No. I’m in a large room and there’s only the one glass wall. The others are made of the same metal as the hall above. There’s only one narrow opening, and I haven’t had chance to check where it goes yet. Have you checked out where your exit goes?”

***

Rafe waited for an answer and was puzzled when none came. He called again, a little louder, “Adam, can you see the way out?”

“There isn’t one, Rafe.”

“What?”

“It’s difficult to see in here and when I couldn’t see an exit, I double-checked by touch. The walls are smooth and there aren’t any markings, not even ridges or any indication of cracks or fault lines. The walls are so sleek.”

Rafe felt a sudden chill. Obviously, whatever the purpose of the room above, there had been some kind of security device and Adam had triggered it. Why he hadn’t ended up in the same kind of…cell, perhaps…as Adam, Rafe didn’t know. It didn’t really matter now; all that mattered was getting Adam out.

“Keep calm, Adam,” he called. “I’m going to call for help. Chris and John aren’t too far away and it shouldn’t take them long to get back to the…library.” He didn’t think it was a library any longer, but he didn’t know what else to call it. “I know it could take them some time to find us down here, but…”

“Rafe, I tried my comm-unit, but it wouldn’t work from in here. I couldn’t even reach you, and you’re only next door.”

<end excerpt>

To read the rest of the story, available individually as an ebook or in print as part of Other Worlds Vol 2,  go here

http://steviewoods.com

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December 19, 2012

The Kiva (Tomcat Line Series) 25% excerpt!

Time for another 25% excerpt and today it’s the fourth novella from The Tomcat Line Series, The Kiva.  This excerpt has some very adult content. Enjoy!

TheKiva200x300Spreading his fingers to keep Ian still, Mac lifted his head to look down at him, his eyes dark and glittering, and Ian’s gaze was caught by the silver figure hanging from the chain and drifting against his chest.

“Mac?” Ian asked, unable to keep the uncertainty from his voice.

“Quiet,” Mac murmured leaning down to suckle his neck, “It’s going to be good, we’re always good together.”

As he spoke he released their cocks and his hand gripped Ian’s balls instead, first one then the other, and Ian muttered in frustration when he let them go only to moan as he felt Mac circling his hole and pressing against the protective muscle. Then he was gone, soon to return with a slick finger sliding firmly inside. Ian’s back arched as a second finger was thrust inside.

“Whoa, found it first time!” Mac crowed. “Want that again?”

“Yeah, oh yeah,” Ian murmured and Mac obliged, brushing his prostate a second time.

Then Mac took a firm grip of Ian’s hips and lifted him a little higher before almost immediately thrusting his cock inside his lover in one smooth movement. Mac pulled almost all the way out before ramming back in, and Ian gasped before commencing to moan and mutter as Mac set up a fast pace, leaning forward over Ian to get a better position to thrust as deep into his lover as he could manage.

Sensations were flooding through Ian as Mac set up a bruising pace, slamming into him again and again. He could feel Mac’s balls constantly slapping against his ass and he was pretty sure he would have bruises where Mac was gripping his upper arms. He couldn’t remember Mac being quite so ruthless with him before but he didn’t complain. Damn, if it wasn’t hot. If this was what Mac needed then Ian was determined to enjoy it.

Suddenly Mac stopped, his cock still buried deep inside. Ian was still muttering and thrashing his head from side to side, and eyes shut tight. He felt Mac release his arms.

Ian stopped moving too and opened his eyes. Mac had shifted his upper body to take all his weight on his right hand.  “Mac?” Ian managed to gasp out amidst the sensations overwhelming him.

Without warning Mac clamped his left hand over Ian’s mouth. “I said quiet,” Mac said.

Eyes widening in shock, Ian stared into the impassioned, almost completely black eyes of his lover as they looked back at him, and for a moment he didn’t recognize Mac in their depths.

Mac began thrusting his cock back into him, his rhythm building relentlessly until it was almost painful. Ian closed his eyes again and arched his neck as, all control gone, he climaxed, his semen coating both their chests.

His eyes shot open and he saw Mac, back arched at almost full flexion as he came, his seed shooting deep inside, his hand tightening painfully on Ian’s face for a second before he collapsed against him, half across him and half by his side.

Automatically, Ian lifted a hand to wrap around him but he hesitated, a puzzled look in his eyes. Figuratively shaking off his worries, he rubbed the nape of Mac’s neck and the older man lifted his head and looked at him, his eyes warm. This was the Mac he loved.

“Ian,” he said softly, “you really are something.” Mac kissed his jaw and then brushed butterfly kisses across his mouth over and over.

“Feeling better now?” Ian murmured.

“Being with you always makes me feel good,” he murmured back.

“Good end to a rough day?”

“Rough day? We had a great day!” Mac grinned.

Ian stared at him, his eyes caught again by the Kokopelli.

“You seemed off earlier,” Ian said carefully.

“Off?” Mac queried, frowning.

“Irritable. And just now. You were… you seemed… very alpha.”

Mac raised his eyebrows. “Well yeah, okay, guess I was. I like to take control sometimes but you know that. Ian? I didn’t… you weren’t…?  Everything’s okay, isn’t it?”

Mac seemed really confused, even a little upset, and once again Ian wondered if he weren’t reading more into this than there really was. Mac probably wasn’t even aware of what he’d done while in the throes of his passion.

Ian kept being distracted by the Kokopelli, ascribing effects to it that were probably only in his mind. After all, the Kokopelli was a force for good in the Anasazi religion. He’d been upset and surprised that Mac wanted to keep the artifact and wear it and he acknowledged that fact was most likely what was behind his feelings of misgivings. True, he still didn’t have a good explanation for it, but that didn’t mean anything more than Mac and he needed to have a good talk.

And soon. It wasn’t that the Kokopelli, in and of itself, was that important, it would have looked good in a museum but one more example wouldn’t have added anything else to the world’s knowledge of the artifact or its place in the history of the Anasazi. He wouldn’t allow it to sour his relationship with his partner.

He smiled gently. “Yes, Mac, everything is fine but we do need to talk.”

“Talk?” Mac frowned.

“About that,” Ian answered, reaching out to finger the silver figure, but Mac angled away and he brushed his side instead.

“Nothing to say,” Mac commented irritably. “I found it, I like it and I’m gonna keep it.” With that he turned away and began to pull his pants on.

***

“Where are you going?” Ian asked when it registered that Mac was getting dressed.

“Just need to…move for a while,” Mac replied, sounding unsure himself of what he wanted. “I’m just going for a short walk,” he added, fastening the last button on his shirt.

“But Mac, it’s almost midnight and we’re in the middle of the desert.”

“So? I know what I’m doing.”

Ian frowned but only said, “Okay, well hang on and I’ll come with you.”

“No. Don’t need you, wait here.” Without another word, Mac walked away.

<end excerpt>

To read the full story, available individually as an ebook and in print as part The Tomcat Line Book II

http://steviewoods.com

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November 21, 2012

Best Policy (Other Worlds #3) 25% excerpt!

Today’s 25% excerpt is from BEST POLICY, the third novella in my Other Worlds series from Amber Allure, involving stories of adventure in an SF/futuristic setting.

He looked around again as it occurred to him he hadn’t seen the rest of his team. Frowning at Rafe, he asked, “Are Lieutenant Davis and the sergeant still surveying or something?”

“Afraid not. They’re not here any longer, Adam.”

“What?” That was the last thing he expected to hear.

“Like I was saying, the lieutenant was very pleased with his results. He’d already found lots of very useful minerals and then he discovered something he’s never seen before. Apparently its properties were way off the charts–just don’t ask me what charts ’cause I have no idea, but he was in raptures about all the possibilities. He wanted to go back early with his results, run some tests and stuff, but you wanted to stay longer to study the temple markings. Not for the first time, you two almost came to blows.” Rafe smiled as Adam ducked his head.

“I can imagine,” Adam admitted, smiling up from under his lashes.

***

Rafe’s heart was still slamming against his ribs from that unintentionally seductive glance Adam had given him from under his lashes. He was then forced to cough to clear the sudden lump which had formed in his throat. Belatedly realizing his hand was moving to caress Adam’s cheek, he diverted it to squeeze his shoulder instead. “You look and sound better.”

“Yeah, I feel a bit better,” Adam agreed. Then, he asked, “So, what did you do?”

“Do?” Rafe queried, distracted by the abrupt sadness in Adam’s eyes, wondering what had caused the look.

“To solve the presumably good-natured disagreement between Chris Davis and I?”

“Ah, I spoke to the general and he agreed they could take the ship back to base early and check over the samples in the lab.”

“The general didn’t want us all to go back right away?”

Rafe shrugged. “Well, sure, he did make the suggestion, but I argued it would be unfair to you because you’d just begun your investigation, and your work was at least comparably important as the lieutenant’s, so the general agreed to let us stay for a few more days and he’d send the ship back for us.” Rafe remembered how grateful Adam had been and he guiltily kept the fact to himself he had done it just to see that smile on Adam’s lips. The same rather sweet smile Rafe had single-handedly wiped from Adam’s face some months earlier when he’d started being a bastard to his best friend.

“He knew I’d be safe with you.”

“That was the theory,” Rafe muttered under his breath.

Adam smiled. “I bet I was very happy with you about then.”

Rafe was embarrassed to feel an unaccustomed flush creep up his cheeks and hoped Adam hadn’t noticed. Odds were Adam would be naive enough to ask what caused it. Rafe plastered a grin on his face for a second and then it faded as he went on, “Unfortunately, things didn’t go according to plan.”

“Do they ever?” Adam shrugged. “So, tell me what exactly happened. I still can’t remember anything about a landslide.”

“Do you remember the layout of the area?”

Adam frowned,  thinking, but after a few moments he said, “Not very well. There’s a mountain, right?”

“Kind of. It’s more accurate to call it a really big hill. Halfway up it was a large plateau, which you thought might be man-made, dug out of the hillside. The temple sits on the plateau. The survey ship had landed on a flat meadow just to the west of the hill and we set up our camp at the base on the hill on the western side. After the general gave permission for the lieutenant to leave early, the sergeant piloted the ship out. That was a couple of days before the landslide.”

“Which happened twelve hours ago?”

“Yeah. You’d been having the time of your life. You were working on a stele just inside the rear exit of the temple, and I was just on my way back from our campsite with your notebook. You’d left it in the tent instead of packing it in your backpack and, of course, you needed it urgently to check on some notes you’d made the day before.”

<end excerpt>

If you want to know the rest of the story, you can purchase it here

http://steviewoods.com

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November 11, 2012

Lightning Strikes (OW#2) – 25% excerpt!

Today I’m posting an excerpt from the quarter point of my SF/futuristic novella, LIGHTNING STRIKES, the second book in my Other World series.

What else? Dennis could’ve got to the ship fine, but the comm-unit there could be affected just the same way by the storm. Oh God, the lightning! I’d never seen lightning so forceful before in my life. I’d only been thinking of it affecting the comm-units, but the ship! Fuck, it could be interfering with the ship’s operation.

“Damn, damn, damn!” Swearing didn’t help, except it made me feel better, releasing my anger. Stupid really; as a scientist I should be ashamed of not thinking of something that obvious before this, but sometimes you can’t beat the lowest common denominator!

Wait, what was that?

***

Crap, my head felt as if it was full of cotton wool…cotton wool with one of Matthew’s rocks inside. Matthew? Is he hurt, too? What the hell happened? Can’t think, can’t remember. God, what was that noise? Sounds like the sea pounding against cliffs. Don’t remember the sea. Water…rain…the storm! What… Oh, I fell. Damn, and now I’d remembered that my side was hurting like hell. Fuck!

“Josh, can you hear me?”

Matthew. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t seem to get the words from my brain to my mouth.

“Damn it, Josh, open those gorgeous eyes of yours!”

“Matthew.” Well, that sure didn’t sound like me.

“Thank God! I’m here, Josh.”

“Pain,” I muttered. Didn’t seem to be able to get any power into my voice.

“Where? Your head?” His voice was higher than usual. He was stressed and I knew it was for me. I longed to reach out and touch his cheek, to bring his face down to mine so I could kiss him, but I could hardly lift my eyes, let alone my hand. He must have known, though. I felt him grab my hand and bring it up to his lips. Oh, the feel of his lips on my skin gave me such comfort.

In a voice shaking, though not from pain, I said, “A little, my side…hurts.”

“Worse than your head?” he asked, worry clear in his voice as he fumbled in his pack for the pain pills.

“It’s all right, Matt.” I had to stop to catch my breath and I wondered if perhaps I had broken a rib after all. “It hurts, but I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine when you get me back to the ship.” I smiled, though I wasn’t sure how I looked because Matthew’s return smile was more of a grimace. He gave me two pills and water to wash them down. I got more relief from the feel of his hand on my neck supporting me and the scent of his aftershave as he leaned close to me.

“Matthew…” I wanted to say more, but suddenly I couldn’t put it into words.

He must have understood then because he smiled, a real smile this time, and said, “I love you, too, Josh.”

“Matt.”

***

Damn, what now? The discoloration along Josh’s side was darker, and I was pretty sure it was swollen, not much, but I didn’t think it was like that earlier when Dennis examined him. Perhaps Matt was hurt more than Dennis thought, which could explain the pain he was now feeling.

It was obvious there was something wrong or Dennis would have been back by now, but where did that leave us? Josh was clearly deteriorating, slipping into and out of consciousness with increasing frequency and the swelling on his side had me worried, let alone the concussion, which was probably causing the lapses of consciousness. I wasn’t versed enough in medical matters to be of any real help. Josh needed proper medical help…

I was desperate with the need to do something and, as there was little I could do here, perhaps I should go for help. The storm was still raging outside and I wasn’t stupid enough not to realize if Dennis couldn’t make it I had little chance, however I would never forgive myself if I sat idly by and Josh died. I knew it was also possible Dennis had made it to the ship, but couldn’t get help if the storm was affecting its operation. It could just be the comm wasn’t working properly and he was forced to wait for the storm to reduce enough to be able to get help. However, I couldn’t stop the voice saying: Or the ship could have sustained a precise lightning strike and be damaged beyond repair.

I needed to know.

<end excerpt>

If you want to read the full story, the book – and others in the series – can be purchased here

http://steviewoods.com

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October 28, 2012

The Lost Temple (Tomcat Line #2) – 25% Excerpt!

Today’s excerpt from a quarter way into one of my stories is from THE LOST TEMPLE, which is the second book in my contemporary series, The Tomcat Line, when Ian learns a little more about Mac’s background.

“What!” Mac interrupted. “You know all about me.”

“No, Mac I don’t…” Ian was interrupted when a car horn blared to remind the trucker that the lights had changed.

“Wait,” Mac said hurriedly as he got the truck under way. “We can’t talk about this now. We’re almost at the drop; we can talk while they unload.”

“Sure, but it’s all right, there’s nothing really wrong,” Ian replied concerned that he’d worried Mac unnecessarily.

Mac harrumphed, not reassured and Ian subsided for the moment remembering that Mac had said the drop was on the outskirts of the city. Mac was right, now was not the right time to talk. It wasn’t long before he turned the truck into the entrance of a large distribution center and reversed into one of the loading bays. He glanced at Ian before picking up his clipboard from the dash and jumping down.

Sitting quietly in the cab, Ian watched in the wing mirror as Mac spoke to one of the supervisors who seemed to know him quite well, judging by the smiles and banter between the two men. The man checked the paperwork as Mac opened the rear doors to his truck. Ian knew that Mac was carrying specialized medical equipment and the responsibility for unloading rested firmly on the recipient.

Leaving the supervisor to organize the unloading, Mac returned to the cab and nodded at Ian to get down, leading the younger man to the rear of the large building where there were several rough hewn tables and benches set under a small stand of trees. They were obviously supplied for the staff to eat lunch but as it was still mid-morning the area was deserted so they sat down comfortably facing each other.

“Let’s get this out into the open,” Mac said. “I don’t like the idea that you still don’t think you know ‘all about me’.”

“I know all the facts, Mac but certain aspects of your life are still a mystery to me. I understand that you probably can’t discuss details that have to remain secret, but I don’t like the way you just shut me out.”

Mac frowned for a moment not understanding what Ian was referring to then his face cleared, “You’re talking about my Special Ops days aren’t you? What brought that up now?” He suddenly paled. “I didn’t say anything last night, did I? When we were… Or…” He sounded confused, puzzled. “No, I’d know if I’d been dreaming.”

“No, no,” Ian said, spooked by Mac’s attitude. “You never said anything, certainly not during sex. Why the hell would you think that?”

“I don’t know why I said that. Damn!” The truth was he did know why he had said it. He dreamed occasionally of things he would rather forget, things he never allowed to encroach on his everyday life; things that invaded his nights when he had no control over his subconscious. That was bad enough but over the years he had mostly learned to cope with it. What he had never learned to cope with was the nightmare over Andrew’s death and Matt’s capture.

Officially the mission had been a success because he had brought home the mark, safe and undamaged. There was commiseration for the lost men, an apology for the fact that the intelligence was incomplete and praise for the success against such odds. Success? To him it had been unmitigated failure; he had left a man – a friend – behind to face prison, maybe even torture. He had also lost Andrew. How did he describe Andrew, an old friend, a special old friend he engaged in sex with? They weren’t partners; he didn’t love Andrew, at least not like that. He was a great guy and they both just happened to be gay. It was less than a relationship but more than a buddy fuck, much more.

That night haunted his dreams, the night he’d knelt beside Andrew as he died because some enemy soldier had got past him and somehow managed to slit the man’s throat. He found it hard to forgive himself for that mistake and his guilt was multiplied because while he was with Andrew, Matt had been captured. Matt had tried to help Andrew by chasing off the enemy and warning Mac of the danger and it had cost him his freedom. Was it any wonder he sometimes woke up shouting and sweating because he couldn’t help either of them? Was it any wonder he occasionally dreamed of the good times he and Andrew had shared?

“I think you do,” Ian said softly, dragging Mac back to the here and now. “Who was he? Is he…?” Ian swallowed before he could continue, “Do you dream about him?”

“Ian, no,” Mac said reaching a hand and rubbing up and down Ian’s arm. “At least not the way you mean. Please don’t think that. I meant what I said, you are the first man I have ever loved, this is the first time I have ever had a real relationship.” He felt Ian relax somewhat and he continued, speaking carefully, “I have nightmares about Andrew.”

“Andrew? Can you tell me anything about him, about the two of you?”

“Andrew and I served together a couple times, we were very good friends and early on we discovered we were both gay. We had a fling and then we went our separate ways. That was just the way it was in the Navy. A few years later I was in command of a team and Andrew was assigned to me. It didn’t seem that we hadn’t seen each other for almost five years, the friendship was as strong as ever and we soon slipped back into our old ways. I have to admit it was good, we were really good friends.”

“Not just… what do you call it, a fuck buddy?”

“No, it meant more than that. It’s hard to explain. I didn’t love Andy but I did care about him, you understand?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“Then about six months later, he died under my command.”

“What!”

<end excerpt>

If you want to read what happens next you can purchase the novella in ebook and print here

http://steviewoods.com

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October 24, 2012

Drawing the Veil – 25% excerpt!

Today’s 25% excerpt comes from my historical story, DRAWING THE VEIL, which is the prequel to my popular book, Beyond the Veil. It shows us what happened to Malik to turn him into the pirate captain who eventually captured David. I should mention that this excerpt describes a particularly brutal incident during Malik’s time as a captive and is definitely an adult read.

Malik was expected to learn every aspect of being a sailor on this vessel and he didn’t have the slightest idea of how to do any of it. Even though he had grown up in a port, Malik had never been particularly interested in the sea, other than as a method of transport — as a passenger, not a crew member. The first mate, Nasir, had no interest in his past, and little in his present position as the captain’s ‘bed warmer’ as Nasir occasionally termed it. All he cared about was obeying his captain and turning Malik into a sailor.

Nasir worked him hard and Malik soon realized that he had led a life of luxury, something he had never really appreciated until he was forced into physical labour for which he was not prepared or fit enough. He had always considered himself in good physical condition but he soon reconsidered that opinion. The other pirates laughed at his sorry attempts to learn the many new skills he was expected to master, showing little sympathy for the blisters he developed on his hands or the numerous cuts and bruises; never mind that he pulled muscles he didn’t even know he had. Nasir, however, found no amusement in his incompetence and punished him regularly.

Between Nasir’s teaching methods and Shuaib’s hospitality Malik spent most of his days and nights hurting.

However, Malik was deeply grateful that the captain was not of a mind to share. That had been his abiding fear in the first few weeks: that Shuaib would tire of him and pass him to the crew.

Apparently, Malik was considered part of the captain’s share and belonged to no one but him. His disposition was solely the captain’s prerogative and Shuaib didn’t like to share.

Though he was expected to spend his daytime hours working under Nasir’s direction, on occasion Malik would receive a summons to attend the captain’s cabin. There was no particular pattern to the commands and, with a quick glance at Nasir so the mate was aware that he was leaving his duty, Malik had no choice but to obey. On rare occasions during the day, Shuaib would want Malik to service him using his hands or his mouth, but usually the captain would simply want Malik to run an errand for him, or to serve his food or clean up his cabin, though Malik was painfully aware of the man’s eyes following his every move.

However, no matter what his days entailed, Malik always had to return to the captain’s cabin every night where he was forced to submit to his captor’s sexual demands of one kind or another. Sometimes the man would be very rough and it was little more than brutal rape, other times he would be gentler, speaking to Malik as though he was his willing partner. Malik soon learned just to grit his teeth and bear whatever the man demanded; trying to resist only resulted in a beating before the man took his pleasure anyway. It was a rare night Malik would be allowed to sleep in peace.

At first he had clung to his dreams of Robert but during this relentless torture, his love for Robert eroded and was replaced by bitterness and twisted jealousy at his good fortune in escaping, even if it had only been to a watery death.

Sometimes, though, in the early hours when his fury gave way to despair and desire for it all to be over, he knew he was being unjust. He had seen Robert forcibly taken away by his protector, and Malik recognized that Aram had known he could not possibly reach Malik and that to stay would only have doomed them all. At those times, Malik could only wish that Robert was somewhere safe, and his ignorance of the fate of his erstwhile lover was yet another torture.

One night when Malik returned to the cabin, Shuaib was in a temper. The captain was a moody person at the best of times. Keeping out of his way, Malik got ready for bed and abruptly the captain left the cabin. Malik sighed in relief, thinking perhaps Shuaib wouldn’t return until the morning and he would have a night of peace. But, it wasn’t to be. Malik tossed back and forth on the bunk, totally unable to settle and he was afraid to think about why. That was when he felt the hand moving under the blanket, sliding along his flank and reaching over to caress his lower back. Malik had not even known the captain had returned and he suddenly felt very afraid.

Malik squirmed to try and turn over but the hand fell heavily on the rise of his ass, holding him steady as a rough voice ordered, “Stay still. I want you like this.”

Panic slid through Malik; he knew that tone of voice, that glint in the captain’s eye. It was more than simple anger; Shuaib was furious but it was with himself. Another of the captain’s vices was that he liked to play games of chance, though from comments Malik had overheard, Shuaib wasn’t a very good at it, and he hated to lose. Malik had seen him like this once before after he had gambled away a diamond pendant he’d taken from a female prisoner.

With a harsh laugh the captain pulled off the scratchy blanket that had slid half off the bed already, exposing the nude young man to his rapacious stare. Malik was forbidden to wear clothing to bed. “Never tire of looking at you boy, sight for my sore eyes you are. Right to keep you I was, knew it. Nothing better than something young and pliable to plough.” Captain Shuaib guffawed at his own crude words, adding, “and even better when they ain’t willing.”

Malik tried again to turn over, hoping to shove off the older man. He ought to have known better. He’d been at this monster’s mercy for months now and he’d never been able to escape the man’s basest desires. Shuaib growled at him and cuffed him hard across the side of the head and Malik groaned as he collapsed back on the bed, his head ringing from the blow.

“Any more of that and I’ll tie you down again,” the captain roared. Then he gave an unholy smile and added, “I might do that anyway, not in the mood to fight you tonight.” Shuaib quickly shrugged out of his clothing dropping it onto the floor where he stood.

“Please, don’t…”

“Please don’t what? You whore! Not learned yet that’s all you are, all you’ll ever be? My whore, whenever, wherever I want you. However I want you.”

Shuaib laughed again as he lay over Malik’s bruised body. As silent tears slid down his cheeks, all Malik could think of was that he knew the true meaning of slavery. He was nothing, just a vessel for this man’s pleasure.

“You’re mine, boy, and the sooner you learn your place the better,” Shuaib said, slapping his face. “I’ve been far too easy on you. I’ll show you that you’re mine!” he snarled, shoving Malik’s legs as wide as possible.

Shuaib took him so brutally that night that he could hardly walk the next morning and that day was pure torture for him. Nasir did not let up on him because of his pain. The mate seemed to keep an even closer eye on Malik, watching like a hawk as he struggled to carry out each duty assigned to him. Malik was so low in spirits he seriously considered throwing himself overboard, but in the end his stubbornness won out; he would not let the bastards know they had defeated him.

But still, eventually he learned all his lessons. The sum of which was that anyone could be terrorised into obedience. He learned that very well.

It was a hard lesson but he knew the only chance he had to survive the life he’d been forced to endure was to become as brutal as they were. It took him a long time but he learned to be a good sailor — and eventually a good slaver.

<end excerpt>

If you found this interesting and want to read the rest of the story, you can purchase the book here

http://steviewoods.com

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November 22, 2008

Writing Update

stevielogoJust realised it has been quite a while since I posted anything on here but announcements of one kind or another.  Exciting as they are, I really ought to post more about my day to day writing and all its attendant highs and lows.  Yeah, it has been good to get acceptances, contracts and release dates, but with those come the problems of edits and deadlines.

I have a provisional date for TWISTS AND TURNS, of April/May 2009, a bit longer than I expected but it Torquere’s success is the cause.  Lorna did say if they can get it an earlier release they will, but have to wait and see.

Still awaiting Edits on both CONFLICT from Phaze, and ON REFLECTION from Torquere.  There have been problems with getting the editors sorted for both books but that is now in hand, but as both novels are due out in January and will need to be in proofing by mid-December, the deadline is getting really close.  Don’t relish having to do two edits in such a rush *sigh*.  Hope get one of them real soon!!

Having been working on BEFORE THE VEIL for some weeks now but after a good start I got a bit bogged down, a slight case of writer’s block, or more accurately writer’s stumble.  I ended up stepping back from it for a week or two and catching up on some reading and now I feel a bit fresher and am getting back to it.

I also have other plot bunnies snapping at my heels so I want to get the first draft of BEFORE done at least so I can clear my mind a little to really think through the other ideas, particularly the one for a series. I really do wish there were more hours in the day – as do most other writers I guess 🙂 But I will get there, I am determined.

I’m sure there was something else, but I have gone blank so that will have to do for now.

Stevie

http://steviewoods.com

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