Tuesday, July 30, 2019
THE POMPEIIAN HORSE for review!
The Pompeiian Horse is up for review with the Don't Buy My Love program at the M/M Romance Group on Goodreads.
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/19976440-don-t-buy-my-love-coming-soon-july-28-2019-the-pompeiian-horse-b
#mmromance #fiction #historical #AncientRome #centurion #gladiator #enemiestolovers #menofgabbo
Tuesday, July 2, 2019
WHERE OCEANS MEET
A contemporary M/M/M Romance set where the Atlantic and the Pacific collide.
Get your copy here:
Smashwords
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/946895
Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TV962D9
ENJOY AN EXCERPT
“You let him finger you in the middle of the street!”
Viviana clutched imaginary pearls. “You were not kidding when you said you
needed it bad!”
Not the middle of the
street. A discreet wall.
The Pan American Highway was virtually deserted as most of
the cars that would cause the massive traffic jam on Ash Wednesday were still
parked, their owners squeezing the last hours of Carnavales hard as sunset quickly approached.
“Leave him alone, Viv,” Benito commanded, looking at her
from the rearview mirror. “Just last night you were sandwiched between two guys
and no one knew where their hands were.”
“Well, I saw some hands on those freaking melons,” added
Boris with a snicker from Salvador’s left.
“Shut it, Boris,” barked Belinda, who rode shotgun. “We
barely saw you. You never slept in the house, and you just casually surfaced to
see those guys with Viv. You’re no saint, girl.”
“Salvador was in a sandwich last year and no one said
anything!” Viviana tried to save face by throwing Salvador under the proverbial
bus, most probably the last standing Rio Abajo - Veranillo Diablo
Rojo.
“Because we knew it happened, but we didn’t see it,” Boris
insisted. “Not the same!”
“And he was just honoring the Canal by taking fare from both
ends,” Belinda added with an evil giggle.
“Hey!” Salvador protested. He’d been a good one-on-one boy
for the past year, no need to bring up old shenanigans.
Belinda was right, though. In how many countries could you
say that being spit-roasted honored THE national landmark? Salvador almost
snicker-snorted, but he didn’t want to encourage their ribbing.
“The point is— we’ve all done things,” agreed Benito. “Sal
is excited, and he’s sharing it with us. Who are we to judge him by a couple of
fingers up his ass this year?”
“Thanks for your support, Benito,” Salvador growled. “I truly appreciate it,” he added.
“You’re welcome, and I applaud you ’cause dude’s seriously
hot.”
The other three agreed with Benito enthusiastically,
commenting on Leo’s face, chest, arms, legs, ass, and (of course) bulge. They
all had seen him while he was over the tanker.
Salvador had purposely not shown them the selfies the mango had sent him before the group
reunited.
“Pity you didn’t get his full name,” said Boris. “We could
be in total stalking mode right now.”
“Well, he works with Seco Seco Pub. He ought to be in their
pictures,” offered Viviana, throwing a side glance at Salvador and grabbing her
bag, certainly to get her phone.
Three smartphones were aimed at the web to begin the hunt.
Salvador just crossed his arms and tuned them out as
Viviana, Boris, and Belinda divided forces looking on different sites, each
doing a play-by-play of every picture as they scrolled. He looked up and met
Benito’s eyes on the rearview mirror. Benito nodded, and Salvador gave him a
weak smile.
It hadn’t been a mistake to tell his friends about Leo, even
if he knew they would tease him the whole four hours of the journey. He couldn’t
have kept all his excitement to himself, though. Luckily, the most vocal of the
group were now engaged on a stalking mission that should keep them busy for a
while.
Salvador closed his eyes and thought about the hard week
coming his way. After spending the last four days close to the Pacific, the
next nine days would be by the Atlantic, overseeing the final stages of the
resort Argüello, Armuelles & Arjona (colloquially known in the Real Estate
Development industry as Triple Argh)
was building by the shores of Nombre de Dios.
****
Carnavales might
have ended for Salvador, but it was still in full swing at Casco Viejo, so
Viviana & Co. had to leave him on a side street way too many blocks away
from his house.
The Old Quarter of Panama City had changed abruptly in the
last twenty years. As soon as it became a World Heritage Site, someone had the
excellent idea of gentrifying it Panamanian style; they would keep the basic
structures of the buildings but renovate them internally and leave some poor
people around to make it look more lived in. Even the former gang members were
tour guides now, showing enraptured travelers where they’d practiced their
misdeeds and chicanery along with the history of the area in their colorful maleante accents.
Nevertheless, tonight was all about the party before the
remorse of Lent engulfed the whole country. The outdoor cafes were full; the
bar-goers flowed to the streets and pop and rock music mingled easily with Murga and Típico bands. Salvador
zigzagged among the revelers until he reached the three-story building where
his apartment perched atop like the nest of a Harpy Eagle, a bit higher than
the rest of this colonial man-made jungle.
Salvador waved at the perky waitresses of Mulatto’s, the
karaoke bar at street level of his building, as he approached the entrance.
They waved back with simultaneous “Hey, Sal!” He stopped on the first floor to
check on his favorite neighbor, Doña Ines, who had been keeping an eye on his cat, Mingo.
She opened after the first ring of the doorbell.
“Did you have a good time, Santi?” In her head, the short
form of Salvador was Santi and not Salvi or something along those lines.
Salvador like her too much and had never tried to correct
her. “Yes. I had a great time. Thank you so much for taking care of my boy.”
“Oh, Mingo is a sweetheart. It was no trouble at all.” She
gave a very juvenile giggle. “Do you want a beer or something, Santi?” She
giggled again. “Well, I guess you had your fill of that in Las Tablas. What
about some food? I made arroz con pollo
today. It has the olives with pimentos that you like.”
Salvador was hungry, but the woman had been cleaning Mingo’s
litter box for four days, he shouldn’t even consider taking food from her too.
Although, Doña Ines wasn’t really old
(must be in her late forties or very early fifties) she had this abuelita quality about her that was
seriously hard to resist. “If it isn’t too much trouble,” he said, and the
knowledge of her culinary skills made his mouth water.
“Not at all, dear. I don’t know how to cook for one person,
so there’s always plenty to share. Come in and let me make you a plate you can
take upstairs.”
Doña Ines made
Salvador a plate to go but also sat him to eat some with her and wash it down
with beer. It seemed only fair to spend some time with her since she had helped
feeding and cleaning after Mingo “the sweetheart.”
Thirty minutes later, Salvador found the aforementioned
sweetheart licking one of his paws over the coffee table, apparently oblivious
to his owner’s absence for more than a weekend. “Mingo,” Salvador singsonged
twice before the Russian Blue deigned to look at him. He slinked toward
Salvador and greeted him with an almost “About
time” meow. He scratched the cat’s head and rubbed his chin. He closed the
door and said, “Hey, mom,” standing for a minute before the big oil painting of
his mother. He about-faced to the stairs of his mezzanine bedroom to leave his
duffel-bag, take a shower, and watch TV for a while after that.
Salvador wasn’t really paying attention to the drama
unfolding on the sixty-four-inch flat screen; he was reviewing the events of
that afternoon, distractingly making circles on Mingo’s grey fur. The
relentless happy purring in his lap was loud enough to drown some of the dialog
of the TV, and somehow encompassed the review of his encounter with Leo: the
texture of his lips, the width of his chest, the spark in his hazel eyes when
they were focused on Salvador.
The ding of a text message snapped Salvador out of his
reverie.
FROM LEO: hope to see
you soon. *cat blowing kiss emoji*
Damn.
****
#fiction #mmromance #latinos #threesome #panama #carnaval #beach #tropical #fiesta #cat #russianblue #menwithpets #menofgabbo #gabbodelaparra
Friday, May 24, 2019
ARZANALE - FIRST DRAFT CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER ONE
KOVAK
Intercourse,
Pennsylvania.
Martan Kovak woke up with a start. His inner alarm hadn’t
gone off at the wrong time. He knew where he was. One of the bodies beside Kovak shifted and moaned in a way
usually reserved for intimate moments.
Ugh.
Kovak looked at the LCD calendar on the opposite wall— an
odd day of the month; Snyder’s turn to spent time alone with Hugo.
Kovak groaned and started to remove the covers to vacate the
bed, so the other two could be by themselves. On his feet, he stretched, trying
not to pay too much attention to the rustle and soft noises behind him, also to
the increasing nonsense growing in his chest.
Sharing the man he loved was atonement for Kovak’s past
sins. Hugo had accepted him back in his life when the relationship with Snyder
was in its incipient stages, and, instead of giving the other man the boot,
Hugo had decided to give them both a chance to make him fall in love. One
thousand and ninety-five days later, all three were sharing a house and
sleeping in the same bed but not exactly having three-ways every night.
Snyder chuckled as Kovak bent to pick up his underwear from
the floor.
Kovak hadn’t bothered to put them on again after he and Hugo
had sex before Snyder came home from an assignment last night.
“I’d say those glutes are getting bigger and rockier with
each passing day, partner,” Snyder commented “I can see you’re following the routine
I found for you.” Snyder’s voice was husky in its morning rustiness. It
tickled something inside Kovak.
Pulling the black briefs up and casually turning to face the
other two men, Kovak arched an eyebrow and smirked. “That routine wasn’t for my
ass, you yahoo. But thanks, Hugo’s having a lot of fun with this rockier and bigger version of my glutes.”
Snyder saluted Kovak with his right hand then elbowed Hugo.
“You’re welcome.”
Hugo rolled his eyes, elbowing Snyder back. Both were still
spread over the bed, their bodies only half-covered by bedsheets now. “If you
like his ass, just tell him you like his ass. There’s no reason for being beating
around the bush amongst us.” Hugo’s eyes moved from Snyder (who was grinning
like a moron) to settle on Kovak. “Martan, you don’t have to go.”
Hugo only called Kovak “Martan” when he truly wanted him to
do something. It was an unspoken code between them.
The few times they had tried to be all three together had
been like Snyder and Kovak were brothers sharing a conquest— avoiding touching
each other and barely making eye contact. If Hugo wanted Kovak to stay, he
would, just not as a participant but on the couch, watching the show and
appropriately masturbating.
Like a damn voyeur.
Kovak nodded in agreement, removing his underwear. He
noticed the quick but clearly deflated look both men had when he started moving
toward the couch under the flashing LCD calendar. It was the first day of May,
and they were officially off duty for seven days. He didn’t have to hurry to be
anywhere else.
Hugo pushed himself upward and rested his back on the
upholstered headboard. The bed had come with the house, and Snyder had brought
that headboard from some undisclosed location. By its materials, it'd definitely
been a tropical place.
“We didn’t kick you off the bed, Kovak,” Hugo sighed.
“I know,” Kovak agreed, lazily stroking his cock. “But
things had been organized in a certain way for a reason.”
“Reasons and procedures can change,” added Snyder.
“True. Not today, though.” Kovak winked but didn't smile. Kovak could not say he didn’t like Snyder. The man was top
of his trade, had a rocking body, and a winning personality. Nevertheless, they
were opposite ends of the same spectrum. If they had met in normal
circumstances (without Hugo being the main reason for their paths to have crossed),
they’d have probably been good comrades in arms, perhaps even friends, but never
lovers.
Snyder groaned. He looked from Kovak to Hugo and shook his
head, yanking the sheets from Hugo’s lap. Hugo was hard and ready in all his
morning-wood glory.
Kovak’s own cock gained more consistency as Snyder caressed
the nice piece close to him. Hugo’s swarthy skin always reminded Kovak of the
cinnamon trees he’d seen in Zanzibar— dark and strong, fragrant and beautiful.
With the three of them, it was all about contrast: in
personalities, in skin colors, in points of view about many things. Snyder and
Kovak were both blond and with fair skin, even if Snyder had a hint of
strawberry in both hair and complexion while Kovak leaned toward peaches and
apricots.
Kovak snorted quietly. Peaches and apricots were among the
so-called stone fruits, and he could relate to that easily. Now a different
correlation to peaches emerged as Snyder moved to all fours, his ass high and
his face low, dragging his nose along Hugo’s shaft avidly inhaling a fragrance
Kovak knew too well.
Hugo combed Snyder long hair to one side.
Something in the back of Kovak’s mind told him their lover
had done that to give him a better view of Snyder’s actions. He swallowed hard,
seeing Snyder’s lips wrap around Hugo’s cockhead. The way Snyder used his plump
lips to lower the foreskin always gave Kovak goose bumps. For a moment he
considered how that mouth would feel around his own member.
Hugo’s and Kovak’s eyes locked, and Hugo closed his eyes
slowly with an imperceptible nod as if agreeing with him. Being caught by Hugo
imagining Snyder’s mouth in his cock should have doused his arousal, and yet it
had the exact opposite effect: his nipples hardened and a slight tremor
spiraled over his body.
Snyder worked with serious concentration; his big fist
pumped the shaft as his head bobbed engulfing and releasing inches and inches
with gusto.
With one hand, Hugo traced the perfect concave arch of
Snyder’s back on his way to rocky cheeks— unhurriedly, just a wide expanse to
glide and enjoy.
A finger disappeared inside Snyder’s hole. The mercenary
moaned, his mouth still full of sweet Hugo, and Kovak groaned in response
because the sound had touched him in a place that wasn’t supposed to be touched
by that sound or the image accompanying it.
Kovak knew it wasn’t a projection of his own reactions,
knowing that Hugo also did these things to him. No, it was about Snyder; about how
the mercenary gyrated his hips— eager for a deeper penetration; about the way
his long pale lashes caught the emerging light of the morning as he closed his
eyes to receive more of Hugo’s cock in his mouth.
Three fingers were now readying Snyder. Kovak didn’t know
what had changed, but this morning he had come to a new appreciating of
Snyder’s form, of his reactions to Hugo’s touch. Kovak did not want to be just
a silent spectator anymore; he wanted to be part of that, but his own conflict—
his own sense of incomplete atonement kept him rooted to the spot.
Snyder straddled Hugo, his back to Kovak, his long hair falling
like an unruly sunny river down his wide shoulders. Hugo spread those hard
cheeks, exposing their sweet treasure. Snyder found his mark with one hand and guided
Hugo inside him.
Kovak held his breath. Snyder slowly lowered himself, taking
it all with determination and abandon, the angle of his spine growing inward
with every devoured inch. Snyder and Kovak exhaled together when Snyder was
fully seated and in control of Hugo’s cock.
Kovak’s entire body tingled. The image before him and his memories
entwined and swirled, bringing the flames engulfing his body to new heights.
Snyder started to ride Hugo. First a soft roll, quietly
increasing from trot to canter to gallop until it was full command and utter
possession. Kovak worked his cock in tandem with Snyder’s motions, getting
closer with each heartbeat, with each moan and grunt escaping the other two.
Kovak’s hand became a blur, so in tune with Snyder, hoping
it was Snyder. Abruptly, Snyder stopped. Kovak saw the rivulets of sweat
sliding down the strong back and arms, damping strawberry hair. Both heaved,
perhaps lost in the sudden quiet.
Snyder rested his brow over Hugo’s. He nodded as if coming
to a realization. He straightened his upper body and turned to look at Kovak,
his eyes wild and needy. Snyder extended his hand, but the word came from
Hugo’s mouth. “Come.”
Kovak’s feverish brain thought they wanted to see him come,
see him reach his climax for their enjoyment, but then he realized it had
meant, “Come to us.”
In a daze, Kovak went to his feet, hard and very close to
bursting.
Before Kovak could reach the bed, Snyder got off Hugo and
lay on his back.
Hugo moved on his knees to receive Kovak. He climbed on the
bed, and Hugo gave an upward swept with his middle finger over Kovak’s leaking
cockhead to scoop some precum. Kovak thought Hugo would lick it, but instead he
put the now dripping finger on Snyder’s lips.
Snyder took the finger in his mouth— his eyes locked with
Kovak’s.
Kovak felt lightheaded, and all he wanted to do now was to have
his mouth sharing that finger with Snyder. And he went for it, covering
Snyder’s body with his body, covering Snyder’s mouth with his mouth, tasting
himself and Snyder in the same heartbeat.
Hugo removed his finger from the equation, leaving Kovak and
Snyder devouring each other’s mouths, their cocks grinding, the friction taking
both higher and higher. Hugo started to masturbate, pushing his cockhead
between their wrestling lips every two pumps.
Soon Kovak’s mind spiraled, enthralled by the powerful man
beneath his body and the hard cock teasing their united lips. Hungry, feral, he
shared a growl with Snyder as the first drop of cum fell in their greedy mouths.
Hugo grunted as he came, more and more deliciousness reaching Snyder’s and
Kovak’s taste buds.
Hugo smacked his wet cock on Kovak’s cheek, and that was it.
Kovak cried as his body convulsed, and cum burst over and over, drenching his
crotch and Snyder’s. And Snyder grabbed Kovak’s ass and ground their drenched
cocks together and came and came, forcing Kovak to swallow the mercenary’s howl
of completion with a punishing kiss.
💣💣💣
“Fuck. That was…” Kovak said after enough time had passed
for them to breathe evenly again. He lay on his back, Hugo and Snyder flanking
him, all three staring at the ceiling.
“Intense?” Hugo’s voice emerged a bit strangled from Kovak’s
right.
“Eye-opening?” Snyder sounded unusually contemplative.
“I honestly do not have a word to describe it… yet,” Kovak
finally offered after several heartbeats.
Hugo sprang up, resting on his elbow. One ear perked toward
the door like a bloodhound. He covered Kovak’s mouth with a hand before he
could open it.
Then Kovak heard it too, someone (or several) moving
downstairs. They vacated the bed in silence. With practiced ease, they donned
clothes and weapons quietly.
Snyder was the first out of the master bedroom. He moved
toward the stairs and stopped at the edge. He stared at Hugo and Kovak and
hand-gestured “Fight or flight?”
Hugo and Kovak exchanged a glance. Kovak moved his hand,
“How many?”
They all focused their senses to gauge the amount of
intruders in the house. Hugo’s hand signaled, “Six?” Snyder and Kovak nodded.
Hugo jerked his right thumb toward the guest bedroom.
Swiftly, they were inside the smaller room. “What do you
think?” Hugo asked as they huddled close to the window.
“Effing Monday morning for crying out loud,” Snyder growled.
“The low hangers on those fuckers”
“You don’t suppose these are squatters, right?” Kovak asked
just to be obnoxious.
Hugo shook his head a little. “Kovak, squatters would be
making a lot more noise thinking the house was empty.” He made a face.
“Let’s just get out of here,” Snyder grumbled. “These
motherfuckers interrupted my afterglow, and I won’t be in the mood for
questioning them.” His eyes landed on Kovak, but they had a naughty gleam
instead of a murderous fog. “I might be inclined to simply end them.” He
smirked easily.
“We don’t even know what they want,” Hugo huffed.
“I agree with Snyder. Let’s get the fuck out. This can’t be
a friendly visit. They didn’t ring the doorbell.” Kovak shook his head. “People
have no manners anymore.”
Snyder snorted. “You’re an idiot,” he said, opening the
window slowly.
The roof of the tool shed attached to the house was below
that window. The sun was fully out, and the neighborhood was coming alive
around them. Hugo stepped out first, then Snyder. Kovak used his sliding
momentum to close the window behind him. From the shed, they jumped to the
backyard.
They never parked their jeep in front of the house. It was
something they did in every house they rented after an assignment, foreseeing
situations like this one. Since Snyder had been the last to drive it, he’d
guide them. Always ready to leave everything behind, they didn’t have anything really
personal to forget if escape was needed; although, Kovak really liked that
headboard.
Well, shit happens.
The backyard grass was still dew-soaked, and it squished
under their boots. There was something indecent about that furtive noise after
the moment they’d shared in bed.
Before they could jump the low chicken wire fence, Snyder
elbowed Kovak. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Asshole,” Kovak grunted under his breath.
“Oh, you two can flirt later. C’mon,” Hugo urged, moving
over the fence like an Olympic hurdler.
They were in the middle of their neighbor’s yard when the
house exploded. They stopped in their tracks and turned around. They gawked
as debris flung in all directions and flames soared.
“What the Helheim?” Snyder blurted, frowning. He had
started to use that word instead of hell since he read the “Magnus Chase
Series” by Rick Riordan.
Kovak liked the ones around Percy Jackson better; he was
more in tune with Greek and Roman mythologies than those of the Norse even if
he had been born in the area where the Vikings had thrived.
Snyder crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Well, that’s
just wrong.”
Their house was practically across the street from a weapons
museum. Kovak could only imagine the news headlines. He also shook his head.
“Let’s get the hell out before the police arrive,” Hugo
commanded, and Snyder took the lead toward their jeep.
#mmromance #fiction #action #contemporary #menofgabbo #gabbodelaparra
PS: I'm really liking those little bombs as glyph 😌
Saturday, May 4, 2019
APRIL FLASH FICTION
Every Saturday the MM Romance Group on Goodreads post a picture so the members can create a 100-word story based on it. These are my contributions for April 2019

An experiment like me shouldn’t have survived, but here I was. Mankind has always dreamnt of wings and flying like birds. Now, I was first of my kind thanks to Alchemy— where science and magic married; its triumphant child after sacrificing a normal life for the man I love, for my creator.
“I cursed you. You’ll never be free,” he said, tears flowing easily as I descended from among the clouds.
“Shhh,” I wiped off his tears with soft kisses, “this gift is not a curse but a blessing.”
He held me hard. “Let’s run. Go far!”
“No. Let’s fly.”
****

“Are you ready?” Fir asked.
“I am,” Aarben said with a smile and released the magic, his legs promptly turning into a beautiful tail, strong arms holding him close.
The flow of Aarben’s magic moved around them, calling Fir’s power as the sun kissed the waters. It was time to seal the pact and forget life on land. Fir was ready to live among the merfolk— underwater with his soulmate.
Their lips met as they descended with the sun, ancient power emerging from Fir’s soul, his legs no more.
Day became night, and they swam happily toward their new home.
****
“Do you know how hard it is to tire a Satyr?”
“I wouldn’t have minded doing the job!”
Eucrides sighed, narrowing his eyes. “It wasn’t about pleasure! We need his seed for the potion.”
“I mean, look at that nice, thick vein,” Peron commented greedily. “How did you convince him not to finish in you?”
“Taking a leaf from your book and implying I wanted some for later.” Eucrides made a face, not happy that he had to channel his naughty, younger brother.
“Tell me you enjoyed it— at least a little.”
Much to his dismay, Eucrides grunted, “I did.
****
#flashfiction #microstories #mmromance #shortfiction #100words #menofgabbo #gabbodelaparra

An experiment like me shouldn’t have survived, but here I was. Mankind has always dreamnt of wings and flying like birds. Now, I was first of my kind thanks to Alchemy— where science and magic married; its triumphant child after sacrificing a normal life for the man I love, for my creator.
“I cursed you. You’ll never be free,” he said, tears flowing easily as I descended from among the clouds.
“Shhh,” I wiped off his tears with soft kisses, “this gift is not a curse but a blessing.”
He held me hard. “Let’s run. Go far!”
“No. Let’s fly.”
****

“Are you ready?” Fir asked.
“I am,” Aarben said with a smile and released the magic, his legs promptly turning into a beautiful tail, strong arms holding him close.
The flow of Aarben’s magic moved around them, calling Fir’s power as the sun kissed the waters. It was time to seal the pact and forget life on land. Fir was ready to live among the merfolk— underwater with his soulmate.
Their lips met as they descended with the sun, ancient power emerging from Fir’s soul, his legs no more.
Day became night, and they swam happily toward their new home.
****
“Do you know how hard it is to tire a Satyr?”
“I wouldn’t have minded doing the job!”
Eucrides sighed, narrowing his eyes. “It wasn’t about pleasure! We need his seed for the potion.”
“I mean, look at that nice, thick vein,” Peron commented greedily. “How did you convince him not to finish in you?”
“Taking a leaf from your book and implying I wanted some for later.” Eucrides made a face, not happy that he had to channel his naughty, younger brother.
“Tell me you enjoyed it— at least a little.”
Much to his dismay, Eucrides grunted, “I did.
****
#flashfiction #microstories #mmromance #shortfiction #100words #menofgabbo #gabbodelaparra
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
ONE HUNDRED
Every Saturday the MM Romance Group on Goodreads post a picture so the members can create a 100-word story based on it. These are my contributions for March 2019

He’d been my guardian demon since I can remember, but now I want more than his protection— I want his affection. No, that’s not right; I don’t want it, I need it.
All his thoughts are to be mine even if I have to risk my safety to make him see more than his prince; to see the man I could become to be in his strong, powerful arms and taste his mouth and skin.
“You make me weak,” he said.
I circled his waist, pursing my lips. “Is that a bad thing?”
His hands found my ass. “Not anymore.”
****

Here, about to take his last breath, Bern couldn’t summon hatred for the man who’d held him tight so many nights.
The explosion turned the world upside down before Bern lost consciousness.
“Bern, love.”
They’d all obviously died because Jurgen was calling him “love” when a minute ago he’d been ready to execute Bern.
Opening his eyes, Bern found himself cradled in metal-covered arms, Jurgen's smile brilliant amid the still settling dust.
“I couldn’t tell you, love. I wasn’t sure if it will work.” Jurgen squeezed Bern to his chest. “’Cause I had to kill them all to save you.”
****

He’d been my guardian demon since I can remember, but now I want more than his protection— I want his affection. No, that’s not right; I don’t want it, I need it.
All his thoughts are to be mine even if I have to risk my safety to make him see more than his prince; to see the man I could become to be in his strong, powerful arms and taste his mouth and skin.
“You make me weak,” he said.
I circled his waist, pursing my lips. “Is that a bad thing?”
His hands found my ass. “Not anymore.”
****

Here, about to take his last breath, Bern couldn’t summon hatred for the man who’d held him tight so many nights.
The explosion turned the world upside down before Bern lost consciousness.
“Bern, love.”
They’d all obviously died because Jurgen was calling him “love” when a minute ago he’d been ready to execute Bern.
Opening his eyes, Bern found himself cradled in metal-covered arms, Jurgen's smile brilliant amid the still settling dust.
“I couldn’t tell you, love. I wasn’t sure if it will work.” Jurgen squeezed Bern to his chest. “’Cause I had to kill them all to save you.”
****
Once you got cast in the biggest mainstream movie about gay cowboys after Brokeback Mountain, you did your research. Not how to be gay but on how to be a cattle handler and stuff.
Rancho Arcoiris was a gay Dude Ranch, not a sanctioned free-for-all hookup bonanza, but… Brando was too hot with that 70s porn mustache and Outlaw deity muscles. The man hadn’t even tried to take his Stetson off as he knelt to slobber all over Marlon’s chunky son of a gun dick.
Now they shared the outcome of his effort; the sun not even close to zenith.
#mmromance #shortstories #flashfiction #menofgabbo #gabbodelaparra
Rancho Arcoiris was a gay Dude Ranch, not a sanctioned free-for-all hookup bonanza, but… Brando was too hot with that 70s porn mustache and Outlaw deity muscles. The man hadn’t even tried to take his Stetson off as he knelt to slobber all over Marlon’s chunky son of a gun dick.
Now they shared the outcome of his effort; the sun not even close to zenith.
#mmromance #shortstories #flashfiction #menofgabbo #gabbodelaparra
Thursday, January 24, 2019
THE POMPEIIAN HORSE - PAGANALIA PROMO
To celebrate Paganalia (in honor of Ceres, goddess of agriculture, and Tellus, mother Earth) you can get the ebook (in all its formats) for 99 cents (yes, 0.99!) using the coupon AJ56B (not case-sensitive) until January 27th, 2019
⚔
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/644214
🛡
#fiction #mmromance #centurion #rome #weekendreads #smashwords #gay #promotion #historicalfiction #gladiators #eBook #menofgabbo #gabbodelaparra
🤜🤛
You can check the #prologue here
http://m2meroticromance.blogspot.com/2016/01/the-pompeiian-horse-prologue.html
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
SEASKY - CROSSING UNIVERSES AND SWORDS
OR SHOULD IT BE CROSSING HAMMER AND TRIDENT?
SLASH GABBO STYLE...
SLASH GABBO STYLE...
“’Sup, Fish boy?” Thor asked as Arthur dusted himself on the
terrace.
“Not much, Thunder Dude.” Arthur looked at Thor from head to
toe. “Are you gonna stay all the way over there?”
Thor rubbed the back of his neck. “I really don’t know what
to do now that you’re an actual king.” He smiled sheepishly.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I didn’t give a damn when you
finally got the crown of Asgard. Still tapped that sweet ass with no concern.
Why would it be different the other way around?”
“Well,” Thor winked, “Atlanteans are rumored to be stuffy.”
“There’s only one stuffing in this situation and that’s what
about to happen to that thunder butt of yours.” Arthur barked a laugh at the
end of the sentence.
“I was thinking about that, and you should get some
hammering as coronation gift.” Thor grabbed his crotch and squeezed his meat
hammer, which by the look of it was on its way to Chubbytown.
What had he been doing before Arthur jumped the terrace
railing?
Arthur crossed powerful, tattooed arms, only to caress his
chin with his right hand almost immediately. “An occasion like this certainly
calls for the reception of something special.” He arched an eyebrow. “Still,
you’ll need to get me there. You know I don’t bottom easily.”
“If you leave it in my hands, and my mouth, and teeth, and
every other body part I deem necessary,” Thor waggled blond eyebrows, “I’ll get
you there.”
“You gonna get me to the point of begging for it, don’t you,
asshole.”
“That’s the general idea.” Thor smirked. “I’ll go easy… at
first.”
Arthur cocked his head. “If you can take a pounding, I
surely can too. Let it not be said that Aquaman can’t handle the mighty Thor in
bed.” His eyes focused now on Thor’s more than substantial bulge still held by
that big hand. “This conversation would have been a lot better if you were
closer, or are you trying to keep your distance, so you don’t change your mind as
soon as I grab that ass.”
“You can grab my ass all you want, and I’m still going to
own yours tonight.” Thor was within Arthur’s reach in two strides. He put his
hands on the other’s hips. “Damn, I can’t wait to eat that hole.”
“Always the romantic,” Arthur snorted.
“I know you like when I’m direct.” Their crotches rubbed. “I
know it gets you going.”
“Yeah,” Arthur whispered as his lips found Thor’s and
emulated the movement below. He leaned on the terrace railing, pulling the God
of Thunder even closer by circling his waist and turning the feathery touch of
their lips into something stronger, quickly becoming hard and needy. “I miss
the long hair.” He mumbled moving pass the waistband of Thor’s silky pajamas.
“I could be winding that mane on my fist and pulling your head back to kiss
your throat.”
Thor took the comment as instructions, swiftly breaking the
kiss, and wrapped Arthur’s long curls around his fist, pulling hard and
nibbling and licking on the thick, tanned neck.
Arthur growled, “Fuck.”
“We’ll get there, babe.”
“I’m glad I came—” Arthur was interrupted by Thor’s chuckle
around Arthur’s Adams apple. “—to visit.”
“I’ll make sure you keep coming.”
****
#crossover #superheroes #slash #mmromance #gods #atlantis #deities #Asgard #Thor #Aquaman
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