The Carrot In You

The latest little piece of erotica out is called The Carrot In You. It is, indeed, what the title suggests. Very licarrotinyousmallterally. The story follows the tale of young (ish) Dan, the scruffy and handsome, in his search for enlightenment at a retreat in India. All Dan was looking for a good fast, a detox and a fresh start for his life as a more spiritually aware person. What he finds instead is love and sex and sexy sexy carrot-shifters.

There’s steamy erotic sex and naked butts and exotic locations. And above all; a gay love story to span time and space.

The story is now available at Amazon, Apple, Kobo, 24Symbols, B&N, Page Foundry and Tolino

Next week: there will be dinos and werewolves and sexy MM action and sweet romancy-sort of things.

Teaser Tuesday: The Carrot In You

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The bus doors slammed shut behind them and the bus screeched off raising a hefty dust cloud.

Welcome!” The man greeted them. “I’m here to check all of you are accounted for and to escort you to our most holy retreat of… holy good times.” He had a thick mustache that was almost the same exact brown as his skin, and a flat comb-over. “My name is Hardeep Chander, but you can just call me Hardeep,” he smiled. Dan was lost in his huge brown eyes and the thick lashes shadowing them.

Har-… hardy?” Dan tried. He looked at Skye.

Skye glanced back and shrugged. “Hawrdey?”

“… Or Andy,” Hardeep smiled. His eyes looked resigned.

The Carrot In You coming out this week! Finally! And I got something short and terrible as a freebie this week too! Stay tuned!

Teaser Tuesday: cover reveal

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This week’s Teaser Tuesday is, finally, on a bonafide Tuesday! Isn’t it? I mean…. today is Tuesday, right?
<checks watch>
<googles weekdays>
Yeah, seems we’re good!
As I was saying: it’s a cover reveal! A follow-up of more ridiculousness from Drake the hapless vampire with erectile dysfunctions AND… an incredibly loose adaption of Island Of Dr. Moreau. In fact, it’s so loose, it has nothing to do with the book. Well, very nearly has nothing to do with it. It does kinda sound the same. And there is a doctor and there are experiments. And a pet chicken that was there before I ever saw Moana. I mean, come on. I might write disturbing things, but I wouldn’t mix Pixar movies in there like that. That just ain’t right.

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Teaser Tuesday: Ravaged By A Rigid T-Rex

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“That grass is dead, man.” Jimmy continued.

“No, it’s not,” I lied to myself.

“Sure! Whatever you say, neighbor. It just looks mighty dead from where I’m standing,” Jimmy smirked. His smile looked like someone had painted teeth on a tomato.

“It’s not dead. It’s resting,” I insisted, rubbing my neck.

Jimmy leaned against the fence. The fence creaked in desperation.

“Well, as soon as your grass is done resting, come to me and I’ll give you the name of a guy. My grass guy can do stuff at a good price. No one will ever know,” Jimmy winked.

His “grass guy” sold plastic turf. I shuddered, imagining my proud rose bush and the dahlias surrounded by plastic fakery. I didn’t even buy plastic lawn chairs. There was a reason. A good reason. My mother had died in a tragic and completely unpredictable plastic explosion. Her body had been riddled with strips of cellophane and the cheap polyester scarf around her neck had shrunk in the heat suffocating her. No plastic. You couldn’t trust plastic.

I gave Jimmy a dirty look under my brow. “No plastic.”

“Fine!” he said, throwing his hands up. “So when are we gonna have another BBQ on your fresh lawn?” he continued. Some people were just born to be assholes even when they were friendly.

Scenes From A Hat

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This is a short random segment of scenes lying around on my desk that may or may not ever blossom into fully formed stories on their own (most likely won’t).

“Crystalline Maze was giddy with excitement. Her first big interview job, after being just hired at TIME-magazine last week at the tender age of 19! And she got to interview the biggest of the big bigshots in nondescript business: Blazer Blane, the multimillionaire playboy with the secret past. The man with more Bentleys than shoes (at least two). The man all women wanted to be seen with because of his massive… fortune. Crystalline closed her eyes and imagined Mr. Blane’s massive… fortune. Her inner goddess snorted.

‘You know, you can’t keep measuring men’s worth by the size of their… fortune,’ it said.
Crystalline waved her hand dismissively.

‘Don’t you dismiss me, missy!’ her inner goddess barked indignantly. ‘You don’t know this guy! You don’t know anything about him except he has a huge… fortune. He could be a total scrotefaced turdgobler!’

Crystalline gasped and covered her mouth in horror. Her inner goddess was a potty-mouth.

‘That’s right. I said it. Whatcha gonna do about it?’ her inner goddess snapped her fingers.

Crystalline covered her ears and started singing loudly.

The office door opened.

Blazer Blane was staring down at her.

Crystalline gasped.

He was perfect. His eyes were dark and mysterious, with long lashes framing them like a dark pine forest. He had a strong jaw that was covered in manly stubble that Crystalline could feel scraping her skin from two feet away. His abs were popping through the flimsy yet neat dress shirt and Crystalline could clearly see the outlines of his erect nipples.

‘Ms. Maze?’ he asked. His voice was creamy gooey chocolatey goodness dripping from his lips. Crystalline wiped spit from her chin.

‘Durrr,’ she giggled and rolled her eyes to break the undeniable sexual tension. She accidentally on purpose checked out his… fortune. It was huge. She was still covering her ears with her hands.

‘Won’t you come in? I’ve been expecting you,’ he continued, opening the door wide and stepping aside. His office was also huge.

He took Crystalline by the hand and escorted her to the table. She could hear her inner goddess’s muffled protests at the back of her mind.

‘Would you like something to drink?’ Mr. Blane asked.

‘Oh, you know me,’ Crystalline blurted out.

‘No, actually, I don’t. This is the first time we’ve met. Which is a shame.’ He stepped closer.

Crystalline could feel his rippling pectorals radiating heat through the flimsy shirt. Her own boobies were like slowly inflating airbags drawn to his heat. Her mouth cracked open.

‘You can call me Blazer,’ he whispered.

‘Oh,’ she gasped.

His… fortune was inching closer to her thigh and she could already feel the outline sharply poking at her.

‘Oh no you don’t! You don’t even know this guy!’ her inner goddess piped up. ‘We just walked into his office and dude’s poking your thigh with his turkey baster? What’s wrong with him?!’

His inner god didn’t care. It was sitting in a very comfy chair calmly pulling at its left testicle.

‘Hello! HELLOOOO!! What exactly do you think you’re doing with this young girl?’ her inner goddess shouted at his inner god.

‘Hmm.. what?’ it lifted a lazy eyebrow.

‘I said what exactly do you think you’re doing letting your flesh prison run rampant taking advantage of innocent young women who don’t know not to make personality judgments on people based on penis size? Hu?!’

‘Lol,’ it said. ‘Send nudes.’

Crystalline’s inner goddess blinked.

‘No.’ it said in that terrible tone your mother uses when she says your entire name from first name through the middle names and the family name, slowly and surely, enunciating every syllable with painful clarity. When you know you’re in deep doodoo.

-The Moist Fire, a terrible romance novel parody

“They eyed each other under the moonlight. Their skin rippling from deep pinks to blues and cascading into bumps that stretched out to arching necks. The beaks touched gently as they circled each other, claws landing quietly on the moss and feathers stretching out to catch the moon. Katie ruffled her wings in a sign of dominance. Her tail feathers cut an impressive fan against the night sky. Cherry swooned. Her beady turkey eyes rolled back as she let out a submissive gobble. Her wattle shivered with excitement, the minuscule feathers on her it standing erect. The night dew was still around them, enveloping them in a mist of anticipation, beads condensing on their snoods and lashes.

Katie cocked her head to the side. The moonlight made her eyes seem like endless pools. Cherry was drowning in them. Katie took a step forward and spread her mighty wings to embrace her lover.”

-Unnamed FF turkey-shifter romance

“Mr. Darcy shook with excitement as he was handed a caramel chocolate digestive. They were his favorite.”

Pride And Prejudice parody, on hold indefinitely

Teaser Tuesday: M4M4BEAR

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“Nude cyclist!” Tiff beamed, her tiny nose and freckles practically glowing with glee.

“Are there pictures?” I leaned over her shoulder.

“What, does it sound like someone you might know?” She grinned from ear to eat, then folded the paper and handed it to me. “Nah, no pictures. Too many conservatives funding this mag. It might catch fire if they printed something else besides female tits.” She looked genuinely disappointed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring you newspapers with all the wild penises your little, freckled heart desires when we visit Europe,” I nudged her on the arm. “The hot cross bun dough is proofing, they’ll be ready to put in in about an hour. I set the timer, so you’ll know. Last ones for today.”

“Oh? You’re headed out already?”

“Yeah, come ‘ere,” I leaned to her ear, “it’s our anniversary today. Tim and I have special plans…” I whispered.

“Oh jeesh! Why didn’t you say so earlier?! I could’ve made a card or something…,” she pouted.

“With penises?”

“Hell yeah! At least a dozen. A whole basket of dicks! A disket!”

“Aw, I appreciate that, hun,” I grabbed Tiff in a tight bear hug. “We’re okay, though. We have dicks at home. And I made a cake earlier. I just want a little extra time with Tim today. I think the Shoppe’s been taking a lot of my attention in the past few weeks…,” I muttered, letting my mind drift in the date nights missed because of the hairy balls and angry old ladies and an endless sea of dick-shaped cakes for bachelorette parties and people who clearly didn’t want to party with anyone but wanted a dick cake all to themselves for the night… it had been busy. I hadn’t anticipated how much time running a bakery would really take with just the two of us there on most days.

“Well duh,” Tiffany muttered somewhere from my below my chest. “I keep telling you to get an extra baker here full time.”

“You were right. I’m gonna look into it next week.” I squeezed her cheek. “But tonight is for me and Tim.”

“Here,” she stuck the newspaper under my arm, “I read it already and did the crosswords. And might have doodled on it.”

“Er… this is a very last minute anniversary gift?”

“No, I just can’t be bothered to take the trash out…. as somebody just put me in charge of the till as well as the baking because they’re playing hooky with their boyfriend.” She fluttered her eyes with her mouth pressed into a tight, straight line trying to not burst out laughing.

I let out a deep sigh and turned over the newspaper. The cyclist had been drunk and “naked” (in quotation marks), plowing through the holiday displays in the center, then raiding a chestnut stand and stuffing himself before passing out in a manger. He was wearing a mustard tie.

Teaser Tuesday: The Carrot In You

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Dan picked up the carrot and rubbed his beard. These things were all over the place. Couldn’t go 5 steps without a carrot in front of you. Or 8 paces. All paths led to carrots.

He turned it over. It looked vaguely familiar. Maybe this was the same carrot he just picked up from the common area floor? Had the same two dots on it. “This fasting is messing with my brain”, he though. It’s a carrot. They pretty much all look the same. And that wasn’t a veganist thing to think. They’re carrots. They don’t care. Vegphobic? Didn’t quite roll off the tongue. Vega was a moon or something, wasn’t it? Couldn’t really say you were a ”vegaphobic” then, unless you wanted to hate on a piece of rock floating in space for no reason.

He turned to go back to the cooking hut and felt a little dizzy from the movement.

Yup, definitely just brain going screwy from the fasting. ”Boy, I underestimated how much detoxing I had to do”, he thought. All those years working with computers at the office, sitting in chairs and all that capitalistic corporate bullshit. ”No wonder my body’s a hot pocket of toxic pustules filled with Western impurities. I could’ve died”, he nodded grimly.