Stevie Woods:author of gay romantic fiction

February 15, 2014

New excerpt from gay historical novel, Stone by Stone!

I thought it was about time I posted another excerpt from my Tudor historical novel, STONE BY STONE – a story about a monk and the man sent by Henry VIII to close his monastery:

StoneByStone_medWhen they had left the refectory and were out of earshot of the other monks and the servants, Andrew asked, “Do you really want to show me the books?”

Mark looked over his shoulder, smiled and answered, “Among other things. There are some remarkable books in the abbey library, Master Cheyne.”

“Won’t you please call me Andrew?”

Mark inclined his head. “I would be honoured.”

“So I will see these remarkable books and some of your handiwork?”

“Yes.”

Andrew sighed. He ought to have known he was reading more into Brother Mark’s interest than was reasonable.

Andrew realized his sigh had been louder than he thought when Mark slowed and turned to him. “You do not wish to visit the library?”

“Yes, of course. I would very much like to see the books and I’m very interested in what you are working on.” Andrew smiled and was unaccountably relieved when Mark smiled back.

It was only a minute or so later when Mark halted at a pair of heavy wooden doors. Grasping the handles, he pushed them open. A dim flickering light, which Andrew realized came from a tall, lit candle in a wall sconce, greeted them. Mark picked it up, lit a branch of candles from it and then led the way inside. Andrew was aware the abbey library had some old rare books and they also had some very new ones. Tavistock Abbey was one of the very first places in England to have a printing press and some of the newly produced bibles in English were being created here.

Like most everyone else, Andrew was very impressed with the idea of books being printed. It was remarkable how swiftly a new book could be ready when compared to the old method whereby each book had needed to be laboriously copied out by hand. However, neither could he deny the beautiful work produced by generations of monks. Andrew had a love of such things—he was proud to have collected a small number of books himself—and it was very hard to think many of the books he admired for their aesthetic beauty would have to be destroyed because of their religious content. He knew he would have to steel himself to such things, however, because he did truly believe that the Catholic bible in Latin was anathema and the people would be better served with an honest, open bible in English.

Brother Mark led the way through the shadowy passageways towards the large windows in the opposite wall. They passed many shelves of books of all shapes and sizes, some so large it was difficult to believe a man could lift them, let alone be able to read them. The room was redolent with the smell of leather and parchment. As they moved deeper inside, Andrew saw different shaped shelves with narrower, deeper openings and he realized they were filled with scrolls, some of which were very ancient and obviously made of parchment, though there were also some examples on paper, which had been produced during the last couple of centuries.

Brother Mark had obviously followed his gaze. “They are remarkable, aren’t they? Our librarian is very proud of the collection.”

Andrew met his gaze. “They will have to be inspected. Sir Richard needs a complete record of everything here.”

Mark nodded. “I know, and I fear what may happen in the future,” he said sadly. “I try to cling to the belief God has purpose in everything he does, but this is difficult.”

For the first time, Andrew wished he didn’t have to be part of this. Part of destroying this man’s private little world—until his own thoughts registered and he acknowledged it was exactly this kind of existence that was at the heart of the problem. These men, and many hundreds like them, existed apart from the reality of life. Supported and served by those whose lives were much more difficult and all too real. Brother Mark may be an honest, sincere monk, but Andrew knew there were many others who lived a life of luxury with no regard for their fellow men. Where was their God in that?

“What did you want to show me, Mark?” Andrew asked, aware his tone of voice was much different from earlier, hard and cold.

Mark glanced at him, a slight frown marring his features. “Why are you angry with me, Andrew? Have I offended you? Please, I had no intent.”

Andrew sighed. “I’m not angry with you, Mark. I allowed myself to forget, for a short time, that we are on opposing sides. I should not have done so. It does neither of us any good.”

“Andrew,” Mark said, his tone soft, beguiling, “we have differing points of view on more than one subject, but surely it doesn’t have to make us enemies. I have already seen you have a taste for the aesthetic, as do I. I did not mistake your pleasure at the stonework or your interest in these books. That is at least two points of view we share. Can we not just share the similarities and try to forget our differences?” Mark stepped closer. “I felt an affinity with you when we met. This is rare for me, and I don’t wish to lose it if I can help it. Will you allow me to be your friend, Andrew?”

Andrew stared at this man, who he now acknowledged could so easily mean more to him than Mark could possibly know, or accept if he did know. Mark might be talking about friendship, but Andrew’s reaction was much more personal, as his stiffening cock could attest. But like Mark, it was rare for Andrew to feel such an acceptance of another being with such speed or ease. He knew he likely wanted more than was possible, but he was willing to take whatever he could have. He could take himself to task later.

“Yes, Mark,” Andrew said. “I would like that.”

end of excerpt

Available in Ebook and Print from Amber Quill Press:
http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/StoneByStone.html

Also from Amazon and all good booksellers

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January 26, 2014

Shorts for only $0.99 each!

Just a reminder that I have a few short stories out there for only $0.99 which readers might like to check out:

I’ve listed links for All Romance eBooks and Smashwords. The books are also available for purchase from Amazon Kindle, but Amazon has upped the price a little to around $1.25 – not my choice I assure you:)

Festivities – contemporary/Christmas: ARe Books    Smashwords

Home For Valentines – contemporary: ARe Books   Publisher

Treasured Possessions – contemporary:  ARe Books    Smashwords

Throw Me a Bone – contemporary:  ARe Books     Smashwords

More Than Sex – contemporary:  ARe Books     Smashwords

Conversations – contemporary:  ARe Books     Smashwords

Roll of the Dice – contemporary:  ARe Books     Smashwords

Tutelary – contemporary/fantasy:  ARe Books     Smashwords

The Wrong Path – fantasy:   ARe Books     Smashwords

For more information about my publications, please visit my website:

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September 5, 2013

ON REFLECTION – a new excerpt from my vampire novel!

Filed under: writing — Stevie Woods @ 3:43 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

OnReflection_200I wanted to find a new excerpt to post from my paranormal vampire novel, On Reflection, and I found one describing one Nicolo’s earliest memories – seemed ideal for a man who lived a longer than normal life:

A tall, thin, callow boy ran along the wooden planking of the docks, the hunk of bread he’d stolen clasped tightly in his fist. Heart beating in his chest, partly from fear and partly from the exertion, Nicolo darted between a stack of crates, cargo waiting to be loaded on one of the docked ships, only to be shocked when he ran into someone.

Yelling out, half-expecting a blow, Nicolo attempted to twist past the man, but a large hand had grabbed at his tattered clothing and hung on.

“What have we here?” the man queried, pulling Nicolo back against him, one strong arm holding the boy tight against his sturdy body.

“Let go!” Nicolo squirmed, but abruptly understood the man wasn’t going to let him loose. Afraid that the man would turn him over to the baker, who would at best beat him, at worst turn him over to the watch, Nicolo looked at up at the man holding him. “Please, please let me go. I mean no harm, I’m just hungry.” Nicolo used his large dark eyes as best as he could, letting his lip tremble a little, too, knowing it made him look helpless.

The man laughed heartily. “Oh, but you’re a smart rascal, too, aren’t you?” Still not letting him go, the man looked Nicolo over carefully, even turning him a little to push up his torn tunic and look at his back. “Avoided most of the bruises, I see. Smart and quick. The captain could make good use of you, I think,” he added thoughtfully.

Nicolo frowned, not understanding what the man was talking about, but afraid he might have run from the frying pan into the fire. “What do you want with me? Don’t hurt me, please. I won’t make any trouble.” Nicolo kept his voice low, not knowing why, but sensing he ought to be careful with this stranger.

“I’m not going to hurt you, boy. I’m offering you a chance to get off these streets, to do honest work. Sleep in a bed and have regular meals in return. You can earn a little payment, too, in time, when you can pull your own weight. Isn’t that better than thieving just to live, and risk ending up at the end of a rope or on the execution block for your pains?”

“Not my fault I have to steal,” Nicolo grumbled, not being taken in by the promised future. It was too much, too easy. “They threw me out when I got too big; they said I ate too much. I was only twelve. Is it my doing I’m big for my age, I ask you?”

“The foundling home?” There was sympathy in the stranger’s voice.

Nicolo looked up at the man again, searching his eyes, trying to decide what he really wanted. “Yes,” Nicolo answered. “They were always talking about how lucky I was to be looked after, how I was a fortunate child that the Divinity had saved. If I was so fortunate, why didn’t I have any parents? Why was I abandoned without even a name of my own? Found on Santa Nicholas Street, I was, so they call me Nicolo.” The memory still stung; it seemed to Nicolo that he was destined to be forever abandoned.

“Still, I’m pleased to meet you, Nicolo d’Volenzkya.” The man released Nicolo, holding his gaze as he continued, “My name is Phillipe Donato, and I am second mate on the clipper Oreole. Will you accept my offer; make a better way in this life?”

Nicolo looked at Phillipe, disbelief gnawing at him, even as hope grew in his heart. “You meant what you said? A place of my own to sleep, food to eat? For good, honest work?”

“Yes, I meant every word. Someone was kind to me once when I really needed it, and I swore to repay the favor one day.”

“And you—you don’t want—anything else from me? I…” Nicolo backed away a little. “Someone tried. I’m not that kind of…”

“No, Nicolo, I’m not that kind either,” Phillipe interrupted sharply. “You won’t be touched, I swear.” Phillipe actually smiled then. “Unless you earn the captain’s wrath, but that’s something we all risk. Come with me on board the ship. You will earn your keep, I assure you. The work is hard and you have much to learn, but one day you can proudly say that you are a sailor.”

“A sailor? I have dreamed of seeing other places. I saw pictures in a book once of far away lands. They are real? You have seen these places?” Nicolo asked excitedly.

Phillipe took hold of Nicolo’s arm, but gently, as he led the ragged boy out from among the crates and back onto the dock. Nicolo darted a look around, praying the baker was no longer looking for him.

“Oh, I’ve seen more places than you have ever heard of, boy,” Phillipe was saying. “The stories I could tell you.” He grinned then. “But Captain Costalla, he’s been to places you’ve never even dreamed of.”

Nicolo looked at the mate with fascination now. He’d heard all his life that Volenzkya was the center of the world, the capital city of a vast empire, but all he ever saw were the same dirty streets and the poor folk eking out a living in the shadow of the huge, grand buildings where people lived like lords. Places people like him couldn’t get near, let alone enter. The ‘world’ he heard talk of might just as well be across the wide blue sea that he could see from the top of the foundling home, for all the good it did him.

But still he could dream of something better, and he had long wished to escape the drudgery of his life for the adventure to be found on the large ships that swept in and out of the harbor day after day. It was one of the reasons he used the docks to hide out and make his base after he was thrown out of the foundling home. Hoping that, one day, he could leave on one of those ships and see the world beyond his tiny portion of it. Now, it looked as his long-held dream was about to become reality.

ON REFLECTION is available in eBook and Print from MLR Press – and all the other usual avenues:)

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August 15, 2013

Another Secret – Another positive review!

AnotherSecret_medYep, I was pleased to receive notification of a very positive review from Rainbow Reviews for my werewolf novella, Another Secret.

“The story was well written and since the whole plot revolves around secrets, it was something easy to relate to. If you enjoy a little taste of the paranormal world, then this might be for you.”

To read the full review, go here

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July 22, 2013

Another Secret – another review!

AnotherSecret_medI was delighted to learn that Mrs Condit and Friend’s site had reviewed my dark fantasy / shifter novella, Another Secret.  In part she said:

“While approaching Drew’s house, he finds that Drew has got a secret of his own, and it’s a doozy. When they talk, they find out that secrets never go away, that they always find a way to come out in the end. And sometimes with disastrous results.”

To read the full review, go here

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July 21, 2013

Who Will Not See – a Meandering Thoughts free read!

Filed under: Free Read,writing — Stevie Woods @ 12:31 pm
Tags: , , , , , ,

MeanderingThoughts

I look at him; I see him.

Have you ever looked up the word ‘see’? Compared to ‘look’? Perhaps you should. There’s a difference, you know.

I have to admit that I found that out because of Paul, though not from any dictionary. From that very first mission Paul saw me, the real me that I believed no one ever saw, yet I was never hidden from him though it took me a while to understand that.  He saw me better than anyone ever had, better than my wife ever did.  He saw my pain, my despair but he also saw my need.  A need I didn’t even know I had.

I know now that I reacted to him because of his special awareness of me, because I was – ever so slowly – learning to see him. I think that eventually I saw him better than anyone ever had.

When I realized that, I became afraid.  To see someone that clearly puts a responsibility on you and somehow gives them an odd kind of power over you. Weigh that against the knowledge that they see you just as clearly and you are balancing over a precipice. Either you will fall or you will grab each other for support.

So what do I do now? A lot of time has gone past. I have a sense that perhaps at last the time has come. I have to be sure though. I want him to grab me, to hold on to me for support, yet I’m afraid he will let me fall.

I’m watching him now.

He’s just standing there talking the way he does with his hands almost as much as with his voice.  I’m hanging on to each and every word, though if you asked me later to explain what he was talking about I couldn’t tell you. It wasn’t what he said as much as how he said it.

That voice, warm and soothing, yet tinged with excitement. Like his expression. Once I caught sight of his eyes my description of him changed from excited to passionate. In my mind, where Paul is concerned, they are indistinguishable, the man just exudes passion.

Which is rather my problem because I wanted that passion aimed at me. I know how much he cares; I’m just not sure he cares that way. I’m not even sure that he thinks about love or sex, not since he lost his partner. I think he buried all such thoughts and he purposely lost himself in his work.

Which, even putting my own desires aside, is so sad. Never has a man had so much to give.

Then suddenly, he stopped talking, his mouth slightly open. He snapped it shut and dipped his eyes for a moment. I frowned because I didn’t understand why he stopped mid-sentence.

Then he raised his eyes staring directly at me and I felt a tightening in my stomach, a thudding in my chest and all at once I was afraid to meet the gaze of my best friend and I dropped my eyes. I was afraid that he already knew what I wanted, what I desired – what I feared.

He breathed my name and almost unwillingly I lifted my gaze to meet his bright blue eyes. They were sparkling and his lips were curved in an odd, almost embarrassed smile.

Then I remembered something and I smiled. For a while I had forgotten that when he looks at me; he sees me.

For a short while, I had been blind. Now, once again, I can see.

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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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July 12, 2013

Another excellent review for Another Secret!

AnotherSecret_medI was delighted to receive notification that Literary Nymph Reviews had given my novella, Another Secret, 4 stars!

Another Secret is an intriguing romantic mystery. Stevie Woods has created an impressive short story blending a sensual budding romance with elements of dangerous action. I greatly enjoyed Another Secret.”

To read the full review, go here

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July 9, 2013

Meandering Thoughts free read – A Hot Shower (NC17)

MeanderingThoughtsI came across this shower scene when sorting through some old files. It wasn’t clearly labelled and I have no idea what I wrote it for, it might have even been just an exercise, but I think it’s well worth putting out there for folk to read. It’s definitely hot, so read with care:)

Warm water cascaded over his body as I rubbed my soapy hands up and down his back in long sweeping strokes. I loved the feel of his skin beneath my fingers, supple and pliant covering his beautiful body.  I traced his well defined muscles and watched as his corded tendons flexed, arching against my caresses.

He curved further away from me, reaching out to lean his hands on the back wall of the shower cubicle, dropping his head between his outstretched arms.

“Oh please don’t tease…please.”

I smiled and leaned in to kiss his nape and he moaned.  I slipped one hand around to tease an erect nipple before releasing it to brush my hand across his abdomen, finally taking hold of his waist. I dropped my other hand lower into his cleft feeling for his opening, sliding a finger inside and twisting.  I knew he wouldn’t need much preparation, he was still so relaxed from my playing with his hole during the blow job I’d just given him.  I slipped in a second finger, sought out his prostate and grinned when he bucked.

“Bastard,” he sighed.

“Yeah but you still want me, don’t you?” I asked as I nudged his entrance with my engorged cock.

“Oh God, yeah.”

Holding his hips now I pushed in, waited for him to adjust and then slid in the rest of the way.  I watched as the water ran in rivulets down his spine and I leaned in to lick it off his back revelling in the special taste of his velvety skin.  Suddenly his muscles gripped me and I groaned at the sensation.

I got the hint and pulled out only to slam back inside him.  He lifted his hips a little and panted, “More, harder, I wanna feel you pound into my heart.”

Oh God, I loved this man, never felt like this with anyone before.  I did as he asked and set up a hard, fast rhythm, pounding into him, until I felt his body shuddering as I hit his sweet spot, pulling out and thrusting in again and again until I was pouring all my love into him as my orgasm ripped through me.

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