Friday Preview

My attention was drawn to the beautiful dragons, and I traced them lightly with my fingers. “Have I told you how much I like these?”
“You might have mentioned it,” he replied gruffly.
“I wish I could have a tattoo, but it would get lost in a sea of freckles.”
“Why choose ink when you have a natural constellation of art?”
“Oh, please. My complexion is a muddied canvas compared to yours. I can’t even see your pores.”
“That doesn’t make yours any less beautiful. Colors are a big part of my life, and when I look at you, I see every variation of red imaginable. It would take me hours to replicate some of your shades.”
He was carding my hair with one hand and thumbing my face with the other. I’d never been studied with such intensity. Instead of feeling self-conscious, I was flattered beyond measure.
“Would you sit for me one day?” he asked. “I would love to capture you in pastels.”
“Seriously?”
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you how extraordinary you are?”
“Me?” I practically squeaked in shock. “I’ve always been the butt of jokes.”
“People can be so blind sometimes.”
“Or perhaps you’re seeing me with different eyes.”
,

 “Yes, a more critical artistic eye, which should underscore the sentiment. You’re very attractive.”
I kissed him then, overwhelmed by the praise. No one had ever given me such an ego boost.
“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” he said after we broke apart.
“There’s no need. I’ll take a cab.”
“Then I’ll ride in the cab with you.”
“G….”
“Humor me, Niall. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
When we stepped out of his building, the streets were busy. It was eleven o’clock but early by Kowloon standards. People were still dining or clubbing, and it felt like a shame to cut our evening short.
“Let’s take the ferry,” I suggested. “Unless you want to hurry back.”
“There’s nothing pressing,” Gerard remarked. “I rather like the idea of having you for another thirty minutes.”


Third Son will be available for purchase on Monday, October 2.  30% off the price if you purchase at NineStar. Type PREORDER at checkout. Offer only good until the book releases.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Third-Son-Mickie-B-Ashling-ebook/dp/B075GX12SJ/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

NineStar Press: https://ninestarpress.com/product/third-son/

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/third-son

Friday Preview: Inspiration Shots

This Friday I'd like to post more inspiration shots and a couple of teasers. One of my characters has dragon tattoos on both arms. When I was fleshing him out in my first draft I trolled the internet looking at a zillion images to find inspiration. Here's a few that caught my eye.

First Gerard sighting...

I was killing time before meeting my afternoon client, who owned a chain of hotels in Thailand. As part of the team in charge of his advertising, I was asked to appraise a series of murals created by a new artist, someone recommended by a friend of a friend. I wasn’t an art expert, but it was my job to know trends, and Gerard Sun was generating a lot of hype. As it happened, he caught my eye, hours before our face-to-face meeting. I almost swallowed my tongue when he climbed out of the pool, water sluicing down his chest past his well-toned abs and disappearing into black trunks that were plastered to his junk. He reminded me of Lee Byung-Hun, whom I’d fallen in lust with after seeing G. I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra, only this guy was younger and way hotter. I had a thing for Asian men and Gerard was fucking gorgeous.

Another sighting...

I recognized Gerard immediately. He was in his usual getup: tight paint-splotched jeans, sleeveless black T, and a backward-facing ball cap keeping his shaggy chin-length hair out of his face. He rolled his shoulders as he scanned the room. The movement made the colorful dragon tats on both arms come to life. I couldn’t take my eyes off the amazing body art he’d designed, a tribute to his zodiac sign. The scales of the magnificent creatures seemed to move of their own accord as they climbed up his sinewy arms and wrapped around his neck. Honey-colored eyes zeroed in on mine, and I responded the way I always had in Gerard’s presence.

Third Son is now available for Pre-order. If you decide to purchase the novel at NineStar Press, you can get a 30% discount by typing in PREORDER at checkout.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Third-Son-Mickie-B-Ashling-ebook/dp/B075GX12SJ/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

NineStar Press: https://ninestarpress.com/product/third-son/

Friday Preview: Third Son

Hi all! We made it to Friday and that means another sneak peek at my upcoming release. Third Son is a contemporary m/m novel set in Hong Kong.

Before you get started on the excerpt, I'd like to remind you about the 30% discount available at NineStar Press if you pre-order the novel. Once the book releases it goes back to full price. Type in PREORDER at checkout to get the discount. Here's the link: https://ninestarpress.com/product/third-son/

I know some of you prefer Amazon's convenient one-click method and I totally get that. Here's the direct link to Third Son: https://www.amazon.com/Third-Son-Mickie-B-Ashling-ebook/dp/B075GX12SJ/ref=la_B004QSCN3E_1_30?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1504964136&sr=1-30&refinements=p_82%3AB004QSCN3E

And we're off....

The gallery was crowded when I walked through the doors at six that evening. Gerard must have been on the lookout, because he was by my side in seconds. I almost didn’t recognize him in a suit. It was the first time since we met that he wasn’t in casual clothes. The who’s who of Hong Kong must have been in attendance if he wanted to make a good impression. He looked gorgeous, but I didn’t voice that out loud.

     “Thanks for coming, Niall,” he said, grabbing me in a bro hug. “I know you’d rather be somewhere else tonight.”

     “Actually, you’re wrong. Celebrating with you is exactly where I want to be right now.”

     Gerard smiled. “I’m glad.”

     He took my arm and we made a slow circuit of the gallery, stopping occasionally so he could respond to the many well-wishers. More than half of the artwork had a Sold sticker beside the title, and I imagined they’d be completely gone by the end of the night. This exhibit’s theme was Tanka boat people, the gypsies of the sea, according to the printed handout describing Gerard’s current pieces. The origins of these people could be traced back to the Tang Dynasty when local fishermen chose to escape war by settling on their vessels. The images showed typical family scenes in an atypical home. Toothless men sharing a meal with their younger, more virile counterparts, women washing their hair, breastfeeding, stir-frying vegetables in woks over hot coals, children playing with strings and buttons they’d turned into toys, piles of fish, some still leaping in the air, while others were gutted and ready for delivery.

     They were starkly realistic but tempered by the ink wash painting, his chosen medium for this particular exhibit. The goal was to capture the spirit of the subject beyond the actual image. Gerard had succeeded magnificently, and I would have gladly handed over a check to own a piece for myself if the timing had been better. With my future in doubt, I couldn’t afford to be impulsive. Although my job was secure, and the company had assured me that staying in Hong Kong was my choice, Minister Xiang Guo might refuse to work with anyone else. In truth, I was perfectly suited for this branch, and my transfer back to the States might not be forthcoming if the PRC held sway over the decision. I’d have to wait and see how this all played out before investing in expensive artwork.

     Gerard had promised dinner after the show, so I picked at the finger food and nursed my drink. At the gallery owner’s urging, he wandered away to schmooze potential buyers while I made another round of the room, going from painting to painting. Gerard was an extremely gifted and versatile artist. The murals we’d purchased for the Thailand project were oils and eerily futuristic, nothing at all like these meticulous inks that had an old-fashioned vibe. Minister Guo would be a fool to reject him because of finances.

     “I’ve been given permission to escape,” Gerard said quietly. He’d snuck up behind me and I spun around, startled by the mischievous smile on his face.

     “Don’t you enjoy meeting your buyers in person?” I asked. “Basking in the spotlight seems like the perfect reward for all your hard work.”

     “Not really,” Gerard replied. “I’d rather paint and have someone else do the promo.”

     “That’s refreshing,” I commented. “Most artists enjoy this part more.”

     “Do you know a lot of artists?”

     “I meant artistic types in general,” I said.

     He shook his head. “Not my thing, Are you ready to get out of here?”

     “Where are we going?” I asked. “I’m starving.”

     “You want fancy or down-to-earth good food.”

     “The latter,” I said. “I’m ready to dig into a mountain of crab and shrimp with my fingers.”         “Good deal,” Gerard said. “I know the perfect place.”

     His idea of perfect was the local version of a greasy spoon. We walked into the heart of Kowloon, getting farther away from the tourist traps and weaving through narrow alleys and backstreets. Gerard reached for my hand to help me circumnavigate puddles, and other undesirable droppings, and didn’t let go until we got to our destination. I probably should have untangled our meshed fingers, knowing the culture, but being with a man who cared about my well-being and wasn’t afraid to show it was a welcome change.

     After I came out to my parents in my sophomore year of high school, kisses and hugs just stopped. Maybe they figured if I was old enough to have sex with another guy, I wouldn’t need their affection. It was odd and painful, but at least they hadn’t disowned me, which was what I’d been expecting. Even now, after all these years, they continued to be reserved, preferring to shower me with cards and gifts instead of a pat on the back or a much-needed hug. I was so starved for open displays of affection, I soaked up Gerard’s attention.

Friday Preview: Loving Edits

Basque Trilogy: Book One

When bestselling novelist Mick Henley contacts his editor and former lover, Paul Alcott, after a seven-year absence, hearing Mick’s voice reinforces what Paul has known all along―he still loves Mick. The possible reunion entices Paul into considering a dinner invitation, but his hopes are dashed when he learns Mick is in a loving relationship with Spanish Jai alai player Tono Garat.

Paul still accepts the invitation, and Mick asks Paul to help Tono through the final revision of a love story he’s written, inspired by his affair with Mick. When Paul refuses, Mick reveals he’s been diagnosed with a fatal disease, and the novel is Tono’s only means of coping with the eventual outcome.

Paul and Tono resent each other, but they can't deny the strong sexual attraction between them. Can the past blend with the present to ease the way for Mick’s inevitable future? Will they overcome their differences to provide the loving support necessary to sustain the man they love or will their collision destroy Mick's final days?

Today's preview is from Loving Edits, the first book in the Basque Trilogy.

Excerpt:

PAUL stood outside the door, debating his decision to show up. He had
a bottle of red wine in one hand and a bunch of colorful wildflowers in
the other. He’d given in to a moment of sentimental weakness, and now
he wondered what the hell he was doing. He turned to leave when the
door was yanked open by a fractious brunet with a scowl on his face.
“¿Sí?”
“Um, I’m Paul Alcott.”
Tono glared and scrutinized him from the top of his shinning head
down his designer-clad body.
Paul was unfazed. He was just as curious about the man who’d
replaced him in Mick’s life. He inspected him like he would any rival,
noting the chestnut colored hair that curled around his neckline. His
upper body was hidden behind a loose T-shirt, but the finely formed
muscles of his arms were a clear indication of what was underneath.
Paul sized up the man who had stolen Mick’s heart. He was striking, no
doubt about it. The fiery eyes were bad enough, but it was the mouth
made for sucking that sent Paul’s mind straight to the gutter. He was
shocked by his body’s quick response to this stranger, despite the
obvious antagonism. He brought his hand down, casually covering the
evidence of his growing interest with the flowers.
Finally, the Spaniard blinked and rewarded Paul with a tentative
smile. “I’m Tono Garat,” he announced in a heavily accented voice.
“Nice to meet you.” Paul nodded. “Is Mick around?”
“Yes, of course. Come in, please.”
Tono turned, and Paul zeroed in on the rounded ass covered in
tight white shorts. The lack of any telltale garter lines was a clear
indication that Tono was naked under those shorts, and Paul couldn’t
help but notice.
“Paul!” Mick called out, moving forward swiftly and hugging
Paul to his chest. “God, it’s been too long.”
“I know,” Paul smiled, falling under Mick’s spell easily. It had
always been so good between them, and despite the years and the
distance, the sentiment remained the same. “You’re still as gorgeous as
ever,” he teased.
“Oh, stop. You always were good for my ego.”
“The years have been good to you, my friend,” Paul continued,
taking in every part of Mick. He did look great, trim and fit, cleanshaven.
His hair was a little longer than Paul remembered, but the dark
curls framed Mick’s tanned face, making the unforgettable eyes
practically leap out at him.
“You don’t look half-bad either.” Mick’s voice shifted, and the
words came out like a soft caress. He toyed with a lock of Paul’s silky
hair, curling it around his finger. “When did you let your hair grow?”
“After my father died; no more memos about looking
professional.” Paul grinned as he recalled Paul Senior’s edicts.
“Shall I take the wine?” Tono interrupted, clearly uncomfortable.
He knew all about Paul and Mick’s history, but seeing the chemistry
was a different matter entirely. He felt the first twinge of jealousy but
pushed it down quickly.
“Sure,” Paul replied, handing Tono the bottle.
“Would you like a glass of sangria? I made a pitcher,” Tono
asked, never taking his eyes off Paul’s face.
“That sounds good. I’m assuming it’s authentic.”
“I made it from scratch,” Tono said indignantly.
“Come,” Mick stepped in, diffusing the situation. He took Paul by
the arm and led him out to the tiny patio that had a wrought iron table
for four and several wooden planters filled with assorted vegetables
growing abundantly. The tomatoes were ripe and hanging from
branches held up with green sticks. The Weber grill was off to one
side a tribute to summer and warm evenings.
“This is really nice, Mick. I had no idea this was out here.”
“Not too many people do. I guess the owners built this area to try
and simulate a garden, so I benefit. It’s what attracted me to this unit in
the first place.”
Paul sat down and stretched out, loving the sight of Mick after so
long. “So what have you been up to?”
“Living La Vida Loca,” Mick smiled. “Doing some writing, Paul,
but mostly enjoying my life.”
“Sounds great. Are you still working on your sequel?”
“That, as well as something new.”
“Oh?”
“I’m helping Tono with his book.”
“You’re a writer?” Paul was surprised for some reason.
“I’m not,” Tono replied, placing a large wine glass with bits of
floating fruit and ice in front of Paul. “I’m a professional Jai alai player,
but I’ve written a romance, loosely based on my relationship with
Mick.”
“A romance?” Paul scoffed. His look was a combination of
surprise and ridicule. “Why?” He turned to Mick for the answer.
“Because I’m dying.”

The Basque Trilogy is now available as a bundle for $9.99 at Dreamspinner Press.
https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/basque-trilogy-by-mickie-b-ashling-8638-b

Friday Preview: Momentos: Mick's Journey

Today I'm sharing an excerpt of Momentos: Mick's Journey. This is the third novel in the Basque Trilogy. I go way back to the beginning in this one. In Part One, I recount Mick and Paul's high school and college days. Part two features Mick and Tono, and the third section of the book focuses on all three. This short excerpt is from the second part of the book, the moment Mick and Tono first laid eyes on each other.

San Sebastian, Spain, 2000
Tono

THE room was thick with smoke and crammed with tourists and locals. It was the second week in July, and San Sebastian was reaping the benefits of last week's Pamplona Festival, which included the famous running of the bulls. I'd stopped going years ago; it was no longer enjoyable to fight the crowds to walk across the street, or endure the long wait at a restaurant. I could understand the appeal for someone who'd never been there before, and due to the international publicity, it was still a favored tourist attraction. We always caught the overflow a week later.
     My city was more famous for its beaches and countless bars that had been written up and touted in culinary magazines. Pintxos were a variation of the tapas, or finger foods, found throughout Spain. Somehow, the chefs in Sanse, as we natives fondly called San Sebastian, were either better than most or more creative. The abundance and variety of choices offered in tantalizing displays on the countertops of each bar were a visual and palatal delight. For us, it was a part of life and the evening aperitif. I always stopped at Vergara, one of my favorite bars, to have a drink while savoring any new dishes the owner had concocted. He liked trying out new recipes on favored customers before serving them to the general public.
     I scanned the crowd, trying to determine if anyone was worth approaching. I'd just returned from my five-year stint in Florida and was slowly getting back to the more relaxed atmosphere of life in my  hometown. Florida had been a learning experience and an opportunity to make the kind of money I'd only dreamed of, but the price was high. My daily schedule had left no room for leisure time. If I wasn't at the fronton playing for several hours each night, I was at the gym working out. There hadn't been much time to do any cruising, and even if there were, I wasn't the sort of person who hung around gay bars. A few disappointing hookups early on had convinced me that random fucks weren't my style. I'd hoped to find someone special by now; after all, I‟d had the opportunity. Being anonymous in another country had its advantages. No one knew me outside of the fronton, unlike here at home; the spotlight of recognition shown bright. My parents had never asked, and I had never volunteered any information on my love life. They'd tried for years to set me up with daughters of friends and had finally given up in disgust, claiming I was too picky. My fellow players on both sides of the ocean were unaware of my sexual orientation, or chose to ignore it, which was to be expected. There was no place for mariquitas in our world―a simple fact I‟d always known.
     I was getting ready to leave the bar when I heard the laughter coming from a group of men over at the far end of the room. The center of attention seemed to be the guy who was gesticulating wildly. He had his back to me, so all I could see was his rear end, encased in skintight Levi‟s topped off by an equally tight T-shirt. His curly, black hair brushed his shoulders, and I would have disregarded him, except he turned suddenly and our eyes met.
     The flash of interest was easily discernible in the stranger's face. I couldn't break eye contact, and I found myself approaching him, unable to stop. I paused and asked for a beer, never taking my eyes off the man who seemed to be caught under the same powerful spell. We acknowledged each other with a nod. He left the group and moved a little closer, stopping when he was about three meters away, and he studied me with blatant interest. I could feel my body reacting to the intense scrutiny and was a little dismayed by the force of my attraction. I had no idea who this man was or where he was from, but he had one of the most beautiful faces I'd ever seen. I was hypnotized―deep purple eyes fringed by dark lashes that curled outrageously, and full, plump lips. The thick shadow of a day-old beard counteracted the almost feminine beauty, while his jet-black hair fell in abundant curls, framing a finely sculpted face. He smiled seductively and moved a little closer, whispering in my ear.
     “Hey,” he purred, raising every hair on my body.
     “Hola,” I responded in Spanish, curious to see if he understood.
     “Hola, guapo,” he flirted. “¿Hablas Inglés?”
     “Yes.”
     “Fantastic! I‟m so sick of trying to make myself understood―it's exhausting!”
     I laughed, appreciating his honesty. “I know what you mean. My first few months in Florida were a nightmare.”
     “Do you live in the States?”
     “I did for a number of years, but I'm back to stay.”
     “Lucky you. My name's Mick, by the way. Mick Henley.”
     “Not the writer?”
     “You know my work?” He sounded surprised.
     “I've read your book.”
     “I don't know what to say.”
     I shrugged. “It was good.”
     “Oh, I know that.” Mick laughed. “What I meant was I didn't expect to be recognized.”
     “Why? You're a famous writer.”
     Mick grinned. “What's your name?”
     “Tono Garat.”
     “Tono is different."
     “It's short for Antonio.”
     “I see. Can I buy you another beer?”
     “I'm not done with this one yet.”
     “Do you mind if I join you?”
     I looked at the men Mick had been talking with. “What about your friends?”
     “I have no idea who they are. We just started up a conversation.”
     “Are you always this friendly?”
     “Yes. Why are you so surprised?”
     “Because I'm not.”
     “You seem plenty friendly to me,” Mick said softly. “Would you like to go somewhere and get to know each other better?”
     “Now?”
     “Do you have other plans?”
     I looked around to see if anyone was watching. No one even glanced in our direction, and I felt comfortable enough to venture a positive reply. I turned back to Mick, who'd been waiting for my decision, but I made him wait while I drained my beer in two long pulls. “Follow me after a few minutes,” I instructed. “I'll meet you outside, near the church around the corner.”
     Mick remained at the bar with a perplexed look on his face. I couldn't believe I'd said yes to what was probably going to end up as a one-night stand. This wasn't my style, especially not here on my own turf, but there was something about the writer that made me want to take a chance. It could be because he was an American, and a celebrity, but I'd already broken one of my own rules. My strides were brisk and purposeful, leading me away from the bar and the prying eyes. When I reached the church, I waited impatiently, wondering if Mick would show up.
     “Is there a reason for the subterfuge?” Mick asked with a half-smile when he finally stood in front of me.
     “What do you mean by, 'subterfuge'?"
     “The whole James Bond thing.”
     “I'm not out.”
     “Ahh…. I can't imagine what that's like.”
     “It is what it is,” I said angrily. “If you can't accept it, then go.”
     “I'm not judging, Tono. I just think it's a hell of a way to live.”
     “You know nothing about my life,” I said defensively. “Look, maybe this was a bad idea. I'm really not into casual sex.”
     “Hey,” Mick said gently, holding on to my arm. “Settle down, okay? Let's talk and get to know each other. Nothing has to happen tonight.”
     “Yeah?”
     “Come on.” Mick inclined his head in the other direction. “Let's head out toward the beach.”
     We walked in silence. I wondered what was going through Mick's head right now. Did he think I was a coward for being in the closet? Was he sorry he'd extended the impulsive invitation? I slanted a glance, and he appeared relaxed and comfortable. His body language was reassuring, and I decided to enjoy the moment, shrugging off my doubts and unreasonable fears. Blackmail was always an issue, and being outed in my hometown wasn't a case scenario I wished to deal with, but hopefully none of it would come to pass.
     We arrived at Zurriola Beach, and Mick sat on the low concrete wall that separated the street from the sand. “Is this okay?”
     “Sure.”
     “What do you do?”
     “I'm a Jai alai player.”


The Basque Trilogy has been turned into a bundle. You can purchase all three novels for $9.99 only at Dreamspinner Press: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/basque-trilogy-by-mickie-b-ashling-8638-b

Friday Preview

Another snippet for your entertainment.

“Maybe it’s time to make a few changes,” Iker said gently. “You’re an accomplished doctor and a responsible father from what you’ve told me. I find it hard to believe that your sons will turn on you if you sit them down and tell them the whole story. What you’re feeling for Javi doesn’t take away the love you felt for their mother. Young people are more tolerant than you realize.”

Ed looked up sharply. “I’m not telling them about Javi!”

“Then don’t mention him, but you can say you’re bisexual. It’s not the end of the world, Ed. Some very famous people claim that label.”

“I don’t give a damn about other people,” Ed snapped. “I’m trying to understand why I’m jonesing for the pair of you after being happily married to a woman for over twenty-five years.”

“Excuse me?” Iker asked. “Did you just say the pair of you?”

“I misspoke,” Ed amended quickly.

Iker gave him a sly smile. “Too bad. The idea of a three-way with you and Javi is hot."

Ed was horrified to feel his cock taking the bait. The image of them sprawled in his bed, naked and entwined, made him catch his breath. Blood rushed to his cheeks and his heart thudded loudly in his head. It felt like he’d been racing toward the edge of a cliff, charging nonstop until he flew out into the void, and the only thing preventing him from dropping a thousand feet and splattering on the rocks below was Iker. When had this stranger turned into his anchor?

As if he could read his mind, Iker reached across the table and grabbed Ed’s hand, which had been busy making little piles with the breadcrumbs he’d scattered over the fine linen.

“I think it’s time to go,” Iker said.

“Agreed,” Ed said, trying desperately to regain his equilibrium. Signaling the waiter, he asked for the bill, and when it was presented, he paid with his credit card. Iker motioned to leave a tip, but Ed reached for his hand to stop him.

“My treat,” he said brusquely.

“Thank you,” Iker replied.

They were subdued on the way home. Once again, Ed insisted Iker drive, giving himself the opportunity to dwell on their conversation. The flush of arousal he’d experienced at the restaurant had evaporated, and he was worn out. In light of their conversation, he gave some serious thought to all the possibilities. Had he been in denial all these years in order to keep the status quo? Family, wife, children, career. Wasn’t that supposed to take priority over anything else? If so, he’d done his part, and quite well, he wanted to add. But maybe now it was time to rethink his priorities.

Being bisexual didn’t take anything away from his previous life. Why not admit he’d had feelings for Javi all along? And what of Iker? Was he just caught up in this shitstorm because Ed had a thing for Basque men? Ed knew he was prevaricating before he even finished his thought. Iker was attractive in his own right and shouldn’t end up as collateral damage.

Gnarly is available for Preorder here: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/gnarly-by-mickie-b-ashling-8583-b

Friday Preview

Happy Friday! Here's a snippet of my upcoming release Gnarly.  You can read the first chapter and blurb on the Dreamspinner Press Coming Soon Page. If you like second chance stories with mature characters, this one is for you. Direct link below the graphic. 

Gnarly is available for pre-order here: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/gnarly-by-mickie-b-ashling-8583-b

Friday Previews

Bay Area Professionals

Dr. Ethan Marshall is the young medical student on call the night Tessa Duran murders her husband for abusing her twelve-year-old-son, Rino. Ethan stays in the cubicle while the rape kit is performed and is surprised when the boy resorts to prayers instead of tears.

Despite compelling evidence, Tessa is sent to jail for life. To avoid placing Rino in foster care, their parish priest agrees to raise him. Ethan is touched by Rino’s plight and visits whenever possible, but the connection is broken when the priest and young boy leave the area months later.

Raised by the Dominicans in California, Rino considers joining the order until a romance blossoms with a fellow student. After much soul-searching, he turns his back on everything familiar, and chooses his orientation over his perceived vocation. Upon graduating dental hygiene school, Rino takes a job at the office of Scott Gregory and Robin Kennedy.

Seventeen years have passed since that horrible night in the emergency room. Forty-three-year-old Ethan is now a Dominant in search of a full-time submissive. Twenty-nine-year-old Rino is adrift, longing for someone or something to help him find the serenity he’s lost along the way. As they rekindle their friendship, they realize they might be perfect for each other.


Preview

“So, Rino,” Robin said. “Is this a typo or do you really spell your name with an I instead of an E?”
“It’s short for Quirino.”
“That’s an unusual name."
Rino shrugged. “I’m part Filipino and named after one of our presidents. My mother started calling me Rino from an early age and it stuck.”
“Makes sense,” the redhead said with a nod. “I also spell my name, Robin, with an I.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“Some people use a Y. Did your entire family move here from the Philippines?”
Rino shook his head. “It’s just my mom and me.”
“I see. Was your father in the service?”
“No,” Rino said impatiently. “Is the doctor going to interview me or what?”
Robin took his eyes off the paper and responded in a withering tone. “Do you have something more important going on?”
Rino cringed, realizing his mistake. Shit, maybe he’s the doctor, and I just pissed him off, he thought in a panic. Robin waited with a quiet air of authority that made Rino want to slide off the chair, get down on his knees, and beg his forgiveness. The man was a study in contrasts with his milky white skin covered with an even dusting of pale freckles and his fiery curls. They were sort of clownish, but there was nothing funny about the piercing blue eyes, framed by auburn lashes, gazing at Rino confidently. Robin wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but he oozed sex and power, two qualities Rino found irresistible. He was also ripped, and the nipple ring clearly outlined against the soft cotton fabric of his pale blue scrubs was a sign that there was more to this guy than dentistry.
“Not at all,” he said, “I apologize for being rude. Anxiety about my future is making me forget my good manners. I really need the job.”
“Then let’s try and concentrate, shall we? Now, tell me something about Rino with an I.”
“I’m a hard worker.”
“Are you legally allowed to work in this country?”
“Of course,” Rino replied shortly.
“Do you require a working visa?” Robin probed.
“I became a citizen twenty years ago, when I turned nine.”
“So you’re twenty-nine?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you currently employed?”
“I quit a few days ago.”
“How come?”
“My paycheck bounced.”
“Ouch.”
“No shit… sorry… I keep saying the wrong things.”
“I would have said a lot worse,” Robin commiserated.
Rino rolled his eyes. “I’ve had better weeks."

Read the 4.5 Star Review from Hearts on Fire here: http://heartsonfirereviews.com/review-mickie-b-ashling-forged-in-trust/

Available here: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/searchresults?q=mickie+b.+ashling

Friday Previews

Fractured is the third novel in the Bay Area Professional Series. It can be read as a stand alone but you can expect to see characters from Impacted! and Bonds of Love making guest appearances.

Blurb

Bay Area Professionals

Roque “Ro” Celdran dreams of a better life, far away from the hand-to-mouth existence of his migrant worker family. He moves to San Francisco to study Landscape Design but finds himself short of cash. Tony, Ro’s identical twin, comes up with a plan to help Ro make ends meet. The BDSM club Tony frequents is looking for gay men to act as submissives to the Dommes-in-training. Ro reluctantly takes the job and falls headfirst into a world he neither understands nor desires.

Lance Roberts is the new doctor at the dental practice started by Scott Gregory and Robin Kennedy. On the surface, he seems to have it all: the Mensa IQ, blond and blue-eyed good looks, and the determination to make it in his competitive field. Underneath lies a frustrated Dom in search of the perfect sub who can handle his obsessive behavior and debilitating need for control.

When Ro ends up in Lance’s dental chair, the last thing either one expects is a physical and mental connection. Ro’s attraction to “White Bread” never pans out, and Lance’s weakness for Latinos always leads to a dead end. Could this time be different? What happens between the two alphas leads to a lot of soul-searching and some surprising conclusions.

Preview

“Mistress Anya is looking for a sub she can use for her demos.”
Roque opened his mouth to protest, but Tony barreled through. “No sex involved, Bro, just a willing guy to go through the motions for her students.”
“I couldn’t get it up for her even if she begged.”
“That’s the beauty of this plan, Ro. She knows you’re gay and have no sexual expectations.”
“But I’m not a real sub, and what students are you talking about?” he’d asked.
“She teaches a class for women interested in becoming a Dominatrix.”
“Why don’t you volunteer to be the guinea pig?”
“I’d have too much fun,” Tony reminded him. “They don’t want a real sub.”
“You’re such a weirdo, Bro.”
“Hey, I don’t call you names ’cause you like to suck cock.”
“Sorry.”
“You need the paper, Bro.”
Roque sighed upon hearing the harsh truth. “What exactly do I have to do?”
“Get naked, for one thing, and allow these women to tie you up and practice their skills. Since you’re into guys, Anya can rest assured that she won’t have to deal with a horny sub who expects fucking to be a part of the tutorial.”
“And she’s willing to pay for this?”
“That’s what she said.”
“How much?”
“A hundred bucks an hour.”
Roque whistled. “And all I’d have to do is stand there and let them tie me up?”
“Among other things.”
“Like what?”
“The usual—sensation play, deprivation, flogging. Just another night at the hands of a beautiful Dominatrix.”
“There’s a reason I don’t go to your club, Tony.”
“Why?”
“The people who go there are usually a bunch of pretenders. They’re not really into the lifestyle. They talk the talk and wear the outfits, but nine times out of ten, it’s all for show. As soon as they go back home, life goes on as normal—missionary sex in the dark.”
“What would you know about the lifestyle?”
“Only what I’ve read,” Ro admitted, “and the books say that true players don’t hang around clubs posturing.”
“You’re making snap judgments after one visit,” Tony protested.
Roque had to concede that Tony might be right. “Check in with me after a few weeks, and I’ll tell you if I’ve changed my opinion.”


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Friday Previews

Sequel to Impacted!
Bay Area Professionals

Getting to know each other hasn’t been an easy journey for Scott Gregory and Robin "Red" Kennedy. Falling in love and exploring their kinkier sides revealed a perfect match, and Scott is a devoted sub to Red’s headstrong and often impulsive Dominant personality.

Scott, Robin, and their friend, Susie, open a new dental practice a short distance from the old office but miles away from Scott’s former boss and his Promise Keeper mentality. But the move doesn’t guarantee a happy ending. Robin’s mother is in a medical crisis. Scott’s grandfather makes an unexpected appearance. Ongoing interference from Jenna, Ron’s needy assistant, stirs up trouble. And Susie, having completed her training as a Dominatrix, is on a quest for the perfect male submissive.

Then there's one more threat to their relationship: Robin’s desire for a public collaring, something the shy and formerly closeted Scott is having a really hard time accepting. Is a strong and binding love―albeit a kinky one―enough to keep Scott and Robin together?

Preview

Robin acknowledged that a large part of this need to collar Scott in public was to prove something to the members who’d teased him about his lack of proper Dom attire. He’d shrugged it off when he was in school, laughing along with them when they made jokes. He didn’t have much choice in the matter, but after that incident at In-N-Out Burger, he wanted to shove it all in their faces. He not only had the most gorgeous sub in the world, he now had the money to show him off properly. It was only fitting that he return to San Ramon in triumph, and he was going to make damn sure that he and Scott knocked them on their collective asses.
     “Scott’s a lucky man,” Mitchell commented, breaking into Robin’s thoughts. “I hope he appreciates it.”
     “He does.” Robin smiled but dropped his gaze to the trays on display, effectively ending that discussion. He scanned the different necklaces, passing over some that were quite ordinary. He wanted something unique and special, something Scott would be proud of, that would signify his submission and willingness to please his Master. The thought of placing the collar around Scott’s neck in a public forum was making his cock twitch. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited about an upcoming event. He’d already made the reservations, timing it with the club’s Evening in Vienna, an opulent night of excess where Doms and subs dressed in magical attire, each one guaranteed to outshine the next. It would be the perfect night to bring a masked sub to the club without raising questions.
     Robin’s gaze landed on an unusual-looking piece of jewelry made of hundreds of thin strands of gold in varying shades of yellow and rose, braided into a pliable rope, much like the rope used in a normal bondage scene. It was soft enough to bend and lay against Scott’s neck, but strong enough to resist an accidental tug. It had a standard clasp, which made Robin think it wouldn’t work, but Mitchell noted his interest.
     “It can be altered to suit your needs,” he said, ever the salesman.
     “Are you sure?”
     “I’m positive. It’s a gorgeous necklace, Robin. Eighteen carat gold and handmade in Italy by a master craftsman. You can’t go wrong.”
     “Will we be able to engrave it?”
     “When we change the closure, we’ll insert a small tag you can engrave. It’ll be hidden behind the lock, but you’ll know it’s there.”


                               

Bonds of Love is available for purchase here: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/searchresults?q=mickie+b.+ashling

Friday Previews

Impacted is the first book in the Bay Area Professional Series. It was my second novel published with Dreamspinner Press in 2009. I remember how excited I was to find the perfect cover for this story. I still love it after all this time. 

Blurb

Bay Area Professionals

On his way home from vacation, Scott Gregory, a closeted sub, hooks up with the gorgeous Red, a flamboyant Dom, for a thrilling one-off at a BDSM bar. They part ways after a satisfying scene... but meet again when Robin Kennedy—Red—arrives at his new job as a dental hygienist and discovers one of his two bosses is Scott.

Robin and Scott embark on a journey of exploration into their kinkier sides and discover they're more than compatible—they're a perfect match. But keeping employer/employee and Dom/sub separate at the office presents difficulties, and to make matters even more complicated, the owner of the dental practice is an acknowledged homophobe.

They fall in love, but Robin chafes at all the secrecy, refusing to live in the shadows. Scott isn't as brave; he's desperate to protect his job and his future. Will they be able to find some middle ground... or will their entire relationship fall apart because of fear?



Preview

     Scott entered a small room with a desk and a filing cabinet, and he waited for Robin to walk through the door and stand before his desk, looking down at him with a bemused look on his face.
     “Close the door, please.”
     Robin pushed the door shut and said, “Dude, I had no idea!” He waited for Scott’s reaction, convinced he’d be fired on the spot.
     “Hey, relax will you? I’m trying to process this as well. Have a seat.”
     Robin sat on the edge of the seat, waiting for the ax to drop. He stared at his employer, who looked beautiful in his doctor’s gown, almost as gorgeous as he looked naked and begging. Robin rubbed his face and a small groan escaped his lips.
     Scott started to chuckle, the laughter bubbling out of him as he thought about their situation. Robin looked surprised, but he started to smile as well, finally giving in to the hilarity of it all, and the sounds of their voices reverberated in the small office. They laughed so hard tears rolled down their cheeks. “What are the fucking odds that this would happen?” Scott paused in the middle of it all, trying to get it together.
     “It’s pretty unbelievable, isn’t it?” Robin replied, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.
     “I thought your name was Red?”
     “It’s my nickname. Does Morris even know that you’re gay?”
     “Hell, no!”
     “And a pain slut.” Robin grinned.
     “Shut up!”
     “Why are you in this practice?”
     “It’s a long story… one I’d rather get into over dinner. You want to meet tonight?”
     “Ya think? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve jerked off with a vision of you handcuffed and begging?”
     “God,” Scott moaned, running his hand through his hair. “Stop it, or I’ll disgrace myself and, we’ll both get fired.”

     “Sorry,” Robin replied. “Or not.”

You can pick up Impacted! at Amazon or the Dreamspinner Store. Links are on the sidebar right under my profile. By the way, how do you like my blogs new look? Feedback would be welcome.  

Friday Previews

Cutting Out is the final book in the series. Once again, Anne Cain created this beautiful cover. It'll resonate with readers who've been following the story. 

Blurb:
Sequel to Cleave

Hours after stepping off the yacht where they had their mock wedding, real life intrudes, and arguments arise between Sloan Driscoll and Trent Hamilton.  Seeking relief at his BDSM club, Trent bumps into an old army buddy who tells him things are different now that DADT has been repealed.   Meanwhile, Sloan receives a frantic call from ex-lover, Cole Fujiwara, who tells him that his twins and ex-wife have been kidnapped. Cole asks Sloan for help but makes him promise not to include Trent in the rescue attempt.

Trent considers the opportunity to resume a career cut short, and despite Sloan's threat to postpone the wedding, he leaves for the Middle East as an independent mercenary while Sloan rushes to aid Cole.

In Tokyo, disturbing revelations draw the former couple together, and old feelings are rekindled. Despite this new understanding, neither man makes a move.  Sloan is focused on rescuing Cole’s family without jeopardizing his relationship with Trent, while Cole must prepare himself to survive disappointment if Sloan chooses to segue into married life as a military spouse.


Preview: 

BEFORE LEAVING Cole’s apartment, I had a double shot of vodka to calm down and then brushed my teeth to get rid of the vile combination of booze and vomit. I would have had a cigarette as well, except I’d given them up again a few months ago and Trent would smell the tobacco before I even lit the damn stick. Way back when, I would have resorted to weed, because there was no way I’d be able to carry this off sober. Then again, I doubted I’d succeed despite whatever chemical aids were handy. Trent would see right through my lies, and in all honesty, I wanted to tell him what was going on. The only thing stopping me was the idea I’d be responsible for three lives that would surely be jeopardized by his interference or, worse yet, that Niki and Keni would be sold to the highest bidder because I couldn’t keep a secret. Christ, this was a goddamn mess.
     And what about the wedding scheduled ten days from now? Cole couldn’t wait around until then. We’d have to move on this as soon as possible or those gangsters would send Cole another care package. I didn’t love Noriko, but we’d found a comfortable truce after Cole’s suicide attempt and got along on a superficial level. She was the children’s mother, after all, and I didn’t want her maimed any more than she’d already been. I wondered if they had given her some sort of anesthetic before they’d lopped off her finger. The very thought of that scene made me shudder.
     Trent was already home: the music was on, and votive candles were lit in the living room. He’d planned a seduction to make up for his earlier tirade. Normally, I’d already be sporting wood, but my mind was too occupied with Cole’s current situation to get into the scene laid before me. Trent had the familiar tools handy, and this time, when I saw the blade, I winced. My sympathy for Noriko’s missing digit overtook the lust that usually swamped me when I knew we were about to do some knife play. Tonight would be the first time in our relationship that I’d balk at Trent’s implied suggestion.

                                              

If you've enjoyed the previews of the Cutting Cords Series and would like to purchase all four books at once you can find the box set at Dreamspinner Press for $9.99. 

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Friday Previews

Cleave is the third book in the Cutting Cords Series. It follows right after Vessel (wherein the big break-up occurred) and Cole's father has just died. Now we deal with the aftermath of his machinations. 

Here's a preview. 

     We headed toward the cluster of people near the open casket. I averted my eyes because I had no desire to look at Ken in death. I was still angry at him for manipulating Cole and destroying our relationship. Now it was too late to call him a conniving son of a bitch, and I refused to give him more than a passing glance. I was here for only one reason. Cole was facing his dad but turned toward me the instant he felt my presence. 
    “Sloan?”
     “I’m here,” I said, reaching for his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
     Cole’s stoic façade fell apart as soon as he heard my voice. He could barely croak out the words of acknowledgment. It broke my heart to see him in such pain, and every protective instinct was immediately resurrected. I enfolded him in my arms and held him tightly against my chest.
     “There’s a small room over there,” my dad said, motioning toward a door marked Private. “Why don’t you guys see if it’s unoccupied?”
     “Thanks, Dad.”
     I held Cole’s hand and gave Freddie, his guide dog, the signal to stay. Fortunately, Freddie still recognized me and obeyed. We headed toward the room, and when we stepped into the privacy of the small office, Cole broke down completely. I knew how strong the bond was between him and his father, and there was nothing I could say to make this any easier. All I could do was support him and let him grieve. My tears fell in sympathy as I listened to him sob. Finally, he broke away and apologized for falling apart. I noticed a few new streaks of silver weaving through his dark hair and a frown line that hadn’t been there before. He was only thirty-four, but today, he looked closer to forty.
     “I’m sorry,” Cole mumbled, wiping tears away with the back of his hand. The gesture was so childlike it resonated, tugging on my inherent need to protect him. I drew him back into my arms and held the trembling body that felt much thinner than I remembered. Everything about Cole seemed different today except for my feelings, which arose like a phoenix.
     “You’ll be okay,” I said, whispering words of encouragement.
     “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” Cole said, sniffling against my shirt, “but I’ve missed you so much. You have no idea.”
     “Shogun….”

DSP Link: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/cleave-by-
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Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cleave-Cutting-Cords-Book-3-ebook/dp/B0082CA2F6/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Friday Previews

Sequel to Cutting Cords. 

Five years into their relationship, Sloan Driscoll’s peaceful existence is suddenly upended. His lover, Cole Fujiwara, gives him an ultimatum: agree to a surrogate birth or break up. Noriko Evans, a beautiful woman of Japanese/American descent, is handpicked by Cole’s father to be the surrogate. At the same time, Trent Hamilton, model and established Dominant, sets his eyes on Sloan, offering him another life choice.

Sloan is thrown off balance by this series of events he can neither understand nor control. He’d thought the topic of children had been laid to rest years ago, but with the advent of a new form of genetic testing, Cole’s fear of passing on retinitis pigmentosa, a disease that leads to blindness, has been greatly reduced. Noriko’s abrupt appearance threatens Sloan, as does Sloan’s attraction to Trent and a side of the BDSM world he’d never thought to explore.

Will Sloan be able to muster the inner strength he’ll need to deal with one shocking revelation after another, or will he succumb to a dangerous coping mechanism?  His decisions will either lead to salvation... or hasten the end of the relationship that literally saved his life.

Preview

IT DIDN’T take but a minute, and Cole was in my face hissing, “Why
did you walk out?”
“Would you have preferred that I stay and make a scene?
Really, Cole,” I spat out furiously, “did you hope that announcing the
arrival of the Virgin Mary in front of an audience would make me
jump up and down with joy? How fucking stupid do you think I am?”
“Sloan, please don’t go off on me. Let me explain.”
“There isn’t much to explain, is there? You and your parents
have obviously arrived at a decision without consulting me.”
“Please,” Cole said, reaching out for me. I stepped back,
hardening my heart even as he groped for me. I moved left to walk
out the door, but I underestimated his internal radar as he pounced in my direction and held me tight.
“Don’t pull away again.”
 He begged this time, and I had no choice but to stay and listen.
“I never told you about Noriko because I didn’t know. Mom and
Dad showed up with her tonight and presented her to me like a fait
accompli. I had no say in the matter.”
“What a crock of shit, Cole.”
“It’s the truth, however stupid it may sound.”
“Who is she, anyway? Does she live around here? Does she
surrogate for a living?”
“She’s from Japan… Kyoto, to be exact. And, no, she’s not a
professional surrogate. My father talked her into coming to America and doing this for us.”
“Where did he find her?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not? That is the most basic question.”
“Sloan, she’s here to help us start our family.”
“Us? You mean she’s here to help your father, don’t you?”
“Sloan, please….”
“I haven’t agreed to this plan, and last time I checked I’m your
partner and have equal rights in this decision.”



https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/vessel-by-mickie-b-ashling-6076-b

https://www.amazon.com/Vessel-Cutting-Cords-Book-2-ebook/dp/B005TKZGZ0/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Friday Previews

When Sloan Driscoll and Cole Fujiwara become reluctant roommates, neither man is willing to share too much. Sloan is instantly attracted to Cole but knows it's a hopeless cause; Cole has a steady girlfriend. But one night they share a joint, and Cole opens a window neither anticipated.

A relationship may be impossible—both men are living with heart-breaking secrets. While Sloan is smart, sassy, and a brilliant graphic artist, he’s also a pothead with severe body image problems. Cole, a former major league pitcher, has his own personal crisis: he's going blind. Sloan and Cole are suffering on so many levels, they might not realize that the ultimate salvation could be within each other’s arms.

Preview:

Cole spent his Saturday practicing how to be blind. He was well aware his limited sight could last for years at this level, but he had to face the reality that tomorrow everything might change.

He started by putting on a sleeping mask, one that Juliana had left the last time she'd slept over. She hated the morning sun and always wore a mask to bed. 

Learn to rely on your other senses. He kept hearing his doctors words, as if they would make it all better and act like the magic wand he needed. The sense of touch is a lifesaver. He thought about Sloan as he put the mask in place.

His hands had told him a lot about his roommate. He knew from touching his face that he was a good-looking man. His lips were well formed, his skin clear, his hair abundantly full. He had long eyelashes that tickled Cole when he pressed his face close or nuzzled his neck. His sense of smell told him that Sloan was inherently a clean person and that he had good teeth, because his breath was always fresh. His touch confirmed that he was more lean than fat, and he had some dry patches of skin on his legs and arms that needed to be addressed. His touch had also told him when Sloan was aroused. 

Cutting Cords is book one in the Cutting Cord Series. 

Buy Links: Dreamspinner Press (currently on sale for 25% off) 

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Friday Previews

A plot bunny + hours of YouTube clips featuring famous ice skaters like Johnny Weir = Enforcing Emory. It released in 2015 and continues to be one of my bestsellers. Here's a short excerpt.  


     “Did that man really tell you to stay away from his family?”
     Nikolai nodded an affirmative but immediately realized he should have lied. His mother was fiercely protective of her children, especially Nikolai, her only son. She loved her three daughters unconditionally, but they didn’t have to struggle for recognition or live up to the ideal Igor had saddled on her Kolya. She’d never tolerate anyone who thought he was better than her boy.
     “What’s the guy’s name?” Irina asked. She was two years younger than Nik and had taken to Western society like a duck to water. Hooked on social media, she was never far from her iPad. “Let’s google the creep.”
     Nikolai snorted. Irina considered Wikipedia and Google the sources of all information, and if she couldn’t find her answer with a few keystrokes, it didn’t exist. She whistled in astonishment after she typed in Emory Lowe and hundreds of links popped up. Images of the saucy young man in every costume imaginable filled her screen, and everyone looked over her shoulders to see what was so shocking. There were photos of Emory caught leaping in the air, frozen in time as the camera captured him performing one intricate move after another. When Irina looked him up on YouTube, they watched him perform his short program at Nationals, and the room hushed as the sound of Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet filled the room. Nikolai couldn’t take his eyes off the tiny screen, mesmerized by the graceful movements.
     The gangly youth was artistic on the ice, a fluid nymph who appeared oblivious to the huge crowd staring down at him. He owned the performance, one minute soft and tender, the next fiercely determined to win his prize, executing the complicated number with a series of jumps, including a quad, and ending the program with an I-spin that seemed to go on forever. The applause when he stopped and posed without wavering was loud and heartfelt, and that funny grin Emory seemed to have mastered appeared through the heavy makeup. Nikolai felt something twist deep down in the pit of his stomach. Christ, the figure skater wasn’t just bragging—he was dead serious. The guy was fantastic, and Nikolai felt like a lumbering oaf comparing his skills to Emory’s immense talent.
     He looked up from the handheld device sheepishly. “I guess he wasn’t lying.”
     “Bah!” Igor said loudly. “He’s a poofter!”

Buy Links:

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Friday Previews

Here's an excerpt from Yesterday, a period piece that takes place during the last few months of the Pahlavi dynasty. The year is 1978 and the setting is Karachi, Pakistan. My main characters come from two very different backgrounds and, despite all the warnings, start a friendship that changes their lives forever.  During this tumultuous time  in our history, I think it's more important than ever to focus on our similarities rather than our differences. Love is love.   


     We got to the round table, and he pulled out the chair for me. I was taken aback by the gesture; I didn’t think royals did that sort of thing. I obviously had some preconceived notions I’d have to discard.
     Once we were settled, he asked, “What would you like to see today?”
     “How about I let you decide?”
     “All right,” he agreed. “Why don’t we stroll through Empress Market for starters?”
     “What is it?”
     “The oldest, filthiest, most congested bazaar in the world, but it’s a wonderful and interesting place to visit. You can film anything you want and shop as well. How does that sound?”
     “Perfect,” I replied. “Then what?”
     “They’re preparing lunch for us at my place.” Candidly, he mentioned, “I thought I’d show off my animals. You did say you were interested in the homing pigeons, correct?”
     “Among other things,” I replied.
     He reached over and took off my sunglasses. “That’s better. It’s hard to know if you speak the truth without looking into your eyes.”
     “What do you see, Kamran?” Hopefully not what I’m thinking, I added to myself. He was better-looking in the daylight, and I realized I would throw caution to the wind if he so much as hinted at the possibility. We were far enough from Iran to be safe, I rationalized. Why would anyone bother with me and a royal so far down the line of succession they’d have to obliterate the shah’s entire family for Kamran to stand any kind of chance at claiming the throne? As usual, my mind was off on a tangent, imagining one exciting scenario after another. Good thing I was going into filmmaking.
     “The obvious is that which is never seen until someone expresses it simply,” he said softly.
     “Gibran again?”

     “His communication skills are far better than mine,” Kamran stated.

     “But you’re alive,” I countered. “I’d prefer to hear your own thoughts.”

     Kamran stood and held out his hand. “Why don’t you go and change. I’ll be waiting for you in the white Land Rover that’s parked at the hotel entrance.”

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