My historical romance set in post-World War II Philippines has undergone major edits, as well as a beautiful new cover, created by Catt Ford. The second edition will release on February 23,2016 under the DSP Publications imprint. Here's a short excerpt for your entertainment. It's available for pre-order on the DSPP site as well as Amazon.
He grazed the smooth shoulder resting right below his chin with a soft kiss and jerked in surprise when Greg stirred and mumbled, “What are you doing?”
“I’m… sorry,” John stammered, “I must have been dreaming.” There was no way to hide the erection pressing against Greg’s buttocks, so he embraced the lie. “It’s been a while since I’ve woken up with anyone in my arms, so you’re stuck with my morning wood,” John mumbled and quickly rolled away. He got up and headed toward the stream, praying Greg wouldn’t follow. The thundering of his heart and the beads of sweat dotting his forehead were precursors of imminent danger, a feeling he’d been all too familiar with throughout his stint in the Pacific. Flirting with death had been much easier than fighting the attraction threatening to unman him in front of Greg. Jesus, if this got out, Ignacio’s offer would be rescinded. He squeezed his traitorous member, willing the stubborn organ to retreat instead of surrendering to his carnal needs. He relieved himself against a tree, gratified to feel his body subsiding to a normal state. Walking around in a state of arousal was not only embarrassing, it would give Greg ammunition in case he decided to sabotage John for honing in on his job.Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Greg watching him with a wary eye. Christ, what must he be thinking? Did he buy into his sorry excuse for what just happened? Greg walked up to him and released his own organ unselfconsciously. He hit the high grass with a steady stream of morning urine. John could smell it from where he stood, and instead of turning him off, he felt the arousal creeping up again. There was something so basically male and primal about sharing a morning piss in the middle of nowhere. Dear God….
“Why did you kiss me?” Greg asked after he’d tucked himself away. He looked John in the eye without a trace of anger.
“I told you,” John explained. “I was dreaming about a girl back home.”
“Then how come you’re still hard?”
John glanced down at the bulge in his pants and grinned sheepishly. “My dick’s got a mind of its own.”“Does it?” Greg asked. “Perhaps you should do something about it.”
“What do you suggest?” John asked in a strangled voice. The morning sun was starting to creep over the horizon, and the golden rays peeking through the lush vegetation dappled across the hard planes of Greg’s smooth chest. He’d removed the wife beater the night before, casually mentioning he preferred sleeping without it, but the chill in the air had raised goose bumps and turned his dark brown nipples into stiff nubs. Greg’s face was partially hidden in shadows, but the hunger in his green eyes was clearly visible, and John was aroused by the blatant scrutiny. The dawning light played tricks on his imagination, turning Greg into some ethereal being. He was temptation personified, and John felt like Adam succumbing to the lure of the luscious apple. Years of discipline and a rigid moral code were no match for the power of the sexual tension drawing them together in their private Eden.
Greg pointed at his own growing desire. “Your problem seems to be contagious.”
John snorted. “We can always rub up against each other like dogs in heat.”
“Is that what you do in the Marines?”
“Hell no,” John protested. “If anyone got caught in that kind of situation, it would be the end.”