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Tuesday, March 29, 2011

"The Lincoln Assassination" - Dr. Michael J. Deeb

 Who Helped Booth Kill Lincoln?

Michael Drieborg and his team of marshals look into the various conspiracy theories which surrounded the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.

Their investigation takes place while the struggle between President Andrew Johnson and the congressional Radicals was raging for control of post-Civil War Reconstruction.

Joined by their wives in the nation's capital, Drieborg and his marshals vigorously pursue the investigation despite the often violent opposition of influential Washingtonians who feared what might be discovered.

"In this novel, Dr. Deeb has examined the Lincoln assassination conspiracy theories as never before"
- Robert Lockwood Mills, Author: It Didn't Happen The Way You Think: The Lincoln Assassination: What The Experts Missed

To learn more about Dr. Deeb's amazing work and purchase any of his Civil War tales:

Read my interview with Dr. Deeb:

Friday, March 25, 2011

Random Musings

Rose petals on the floor.  His scent in her nostrils.  His heart in her hands.  Now, if she could only find a bag to put it in.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Grumbling All The Way

The dominatrix who claims to be my wife says the hair and scruff have to go.
So, it's off to the barbershop, cursing and mumbling (so she can't hear of course) every inch of the way.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Random Musings

After a night of sex that would make Eros blush, the first words breaking the stillness of the new dawn probably shouldn't be, "I have to pee."

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Passing Time - Ash Penn

When world-weary Louis Duncan returns to the English town where he grew up, the last thing on his mind is finding love. He's come home to be at his estranged mother's side as she lies comatose in a hospital bed.
The always-sunny barman Jake Harvey yearns to offer Louis much more than a willing ear. After an evening of too much wine, too much Indian take-out, and too much of Jake's soft lips, Louis succumbs to the young man's charms. Jake proves to be a passionate lover as well as a loyal friend.
When his mother’s condition deteriorates, Louis leans on Jake to help him through the difficulty of another loss. The love of his life died two years before, but to Louis he remains every bit alive as Jake. He and Carter continue to chat, smoke together, even argue over whether Louis is living or merely existing. They do everything as they always did, except have sex. Now, despite Carter urging him to take the risk, can Louis give up his first real love and take his chances with the living?

Buy your copy:
Visit Ash at:


Toward the end of yet another tedious day, Louis Duncan found himself wandering streets he’d not trekked in twenty years. Since his unexpected return to his hometown, he’d tried a variety of the pubs and bars that had sprung up along the High Street in his absence, but only one managed to draw his attention night after night.

The Prince of Wales public house had undergone a total transformation since the dark and dingy days of his youth. It was now a classy-looking modern bar called Harvey’s. Wood paneling and floor-to-ceiling windows had taken the place of the traditional beer-and-nicotine-stained walls Louis recalled as being off-limits to a teenager looking younger than his years.

The usual hum of voices permeated the low-level music as he entered the bar and approached the array of bottles. He took a moment to scan the various spirits, although he never ordered anything other than a large bourbon.

“Hey, Lou.” The barman, Jake, greeted him as though Louis had been a regular for years. “How’s your mum?”

Louis had spent most of the day at her side, the rhythmic chug and beep of the complicated machinery keeping him company. Occasionally a nurse would rustle up a coffee, and a doctor might pop in to update him on her progress, but apart from that the only conversation he’d shared these past couple of weeks was with a fresh-faced, eternally cheerful barman.

“No change,” he said, catching the faint nasal vowels of his own adopted New York accent.

Already the longed-for bourbon, a drink he had yet to order, sat before him. For all his youth, this guy knew how to keep his customers happy. Louis lifted the glass and swallowed the contents, savoring the thin heat flaming down into his belly.

“Another?” Jake asked, already reaching for the drained glass.

Louis smiled. For reasons unknown to himself, he always tried to arrange his features into an expression that might pass for pleasant with this particular guy. “Thanks, Jake.”

Jake returned the smile and then turned away to fetch the bourbon, affording Louis a prime view of plump ass. He wasn’t totally desensitized to the allure of a well-presented body.

“Cute,” Carter said softly, taking a perch on the stool next to Louis’s.

“I’m a little long in the tooth for cute.” Louis glanced at his lover, a handsome, smartly dressed man with a shock of sandy hair. Carter grinned, his gray eyes bright and mischievous, exactly like the man he was before the illness had yellowed his skin and ravaged his body to a wispy husk.

“You’re a little long in the tooth for spending yet another evening alone in a bar, but that doesn’t seem to bother you so much.”

Louis hunched forward on his stool. “Every day I get to sit by and watch the mother I haven’t spoken to in twenty years slip closer to death. I think I’ve earned myself a few lousy drinks, don’t you?”

“You don’t think you might have earned yourself more? A shot of that, perhaps?”

Carter gestured to the barman on his return.

“Only you, my love,” Louis muttered as Jake set a fresh bourbon in front of him.


Louis glanced up to meet Jake’s curious gaze. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

“Is that something you do a lot?”

“More than I should.” Louis was long past caring whether he looked like a fool or a loon.

“Do you answer yourself too?”

Louis shook his head. “Now that would make me insane.” He tried another of his smiles, but his lips refused to tilt.

“Well, I’m here,” Jake leaned his arms on the bar, all traces of humor gone. “If you feel like talking to someone.”

Louis laughed. “Haven’t I bent your ear enough these past couple of weeks?”

“With that accent you can bend my ear any time you like.” Jake gazed at him, although to Louis it felt more like a stare. Did he expect an answer? A few more bourbons, and perhaps Louis might have one for him, but not tonight.

He downed his drink and reached for the wallet in his jacket pocket. “How much do I owe?” he asked in his best business voice.

Jake waved a hand. “On the house.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” Louis took out a note anyway. “I wouldn’t want you getting yourself fired because of me.”

“That’s not likely to happen. I have a very understanding boss.”

Louis set the note on the bar. “No boss is that understanding.”

“Mine is.” Jake slid the note right back. “Did I never tell you my last name?” He grinned. “It’s Harvey. My dad owns the place.”

He’d not mentioned it, but then Louis had no cause to ask. “Still, I’d rather pay what I owe.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Jake took the ten pounds, folded it neatly, and leaned over to slot it into Louis’s shirt pocket. “Why don’t you repay my hospitality by taking me out sometime?”

He stroked a thumb across Louis’s nipple through the cotton. Louis pulled back as a jolt of pleasure tingled down his body.

What was this? Flirting? No. No, it was part of the job to amuse the sad fucks who visited bars alone in order to drink themselves senseless before bedtime.

“I don’t think that’s… Uh, actually, I’ve been thinking about heading back to New York in a week or so.” It was the best—the only—excuse he could come up with on such short notice. “That’s if nothing improves with my mom.”

“A week’s a long time.” Jake leaned closer, a flirty sparkle lighting the depths of his eyes. “Besides, I’ll be heading back to uni myself soon.”

What was he after? A quick fumble with an older man? Something to joke about in the lecture halls to entertain the crowds on a wet Wednesday afternoon?

“If you’re not busy later tonight,” Jake said, casting a lazy gaze down Louis’s chest, “I know of an incredible Indian takeaway up the road.”

“To take away where?” As soon as the words were out, Louis winced. He’d lumbered straight into that one.

A faint blush rose to Jake’s cheeks. “Well, I’m staying with my parents for the summer, but, I mean, you’ve got your apartment and…” He obviously hoped Louis would fill in the blanks.

Louis forced a laugh. “And with that, I think I’ll be going.” He gripped the bar top as he made to slip off the stool. A hand closed over his own. It surprised him, the only body contact he’d had lately, not counting his holding mother’s withered hand, or Carter’s feathery yet imagined caresses. Jake’s hand sat on his, warm and weighty.

Louis studied the fine blond hairs, the short, trimmed nails. He raised his head to find Jake staring back with something like lust smoldering behind those blue eyes.
“Red or white?” Jake flicked out the tip of his tongue to wet his bottom lip.

“Huh?” What would that silky scrap of tongue feel like lapping at his balls?

“Wine. Which do you prefer?”

“Neither.” Louis pulled his hand away and took a step back. “I don’t touch the stuff.”

“You only drink bourbon?”

“Pretty much.”

“Your liver must love you,” Jake said, collecting up the empty glass.

“My liver and I get along great. Catch you later.”

“Here’s hoping.” Jake grinned.

Louis hurried for the exit.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Camille's Capture - Evanne Lorraine

Genetically engineered for a single function, to breed, Camille has followed the rules and accepted the Goddess’s will as explained by the elders all her life.

 After artificial insemination fails, she gathers her courage, traveling to distant New Eden to try in-person breeding. When her matches fail to appear, the meek little breeder rebels, determined to leave the Goddess-forsaken world behind her as fast as the next ship home can make the jump to subspace.

Aegis exists only to fulfill his vow to avenge the death of his parents by a Baldorean blood mage. Not even the forbidden desire for Jaxon interferes with his quest. But contact with a breeder threatens everything he holds sacred.

For four years, Jaxon dreamed of tri-bond with Aegis. Isolated by hostilities in the endless war with Baldor, he’s trapped in the close quarters of their fighter with Aegis and Cami, his most secret dream come true. But instead of bliss, he finds himself plunged into a battle with prejudice, doubts, and jealousy.

Cami travels halfway across the universe, survives brutal rejection, humiliation and a firefight. Stranded with two fierce warriors, not even a broken heart will make her quit until she has the sperm she needs.

Visit Evanne at
Purchase Camill'es Capture here:


Jaxon snapped on the control harness, dropped the forward shields, and pulled the trigger before the system even registered his control. “Come on. Come on, baby. We ain’t got all day,” he muttered under his breath, coaxing the fighter’s system to respond.

A weapon indicator blinked green. He had a lock. The forward blaster spit death at the Baldorean ship angling for a kill shot. In the instant after firing, he thumbed the forward shields up. Just in time to repel the blast the enemy fighter discharged.

He silently whooped as his shot rammed through in the tiny fraction of time before the other pilot raised his defenses. The enemy craft was annihilated.

“Nice one,” Aegis, his copilot, called from the tail chair.

Two more enemy ships dove into range. Jaxon engaged top thrusters to drop below the incoming fighters. Aiming straight up, he fired belly shots. The first enemy fighter flamed out, but the second ship angled to ninety degrees, evading his blast. The enemy fired two quick shots. Then he dropped out of range.

“Damn! I missed. Got him?” Jaxon yanked his duranium-powered blaster back to level, already sighting in on the next enemy craft.

“The enemy flies within my reach,” Aegis snarled. His copilot’s harsh words were punctuated by muffled plops as the tail blaster fired.

From the edge of his vision, Jaxon saw the Baldorean craft’s hull ripple before the ship exploded in a flare of light. Three more fighters, one of theirs and two of the enemy’s, met the same fate before the Baldoreans retreated. The squad leader issued the order for them to fall back, which meant they were out of the fighting for the next hour.

Jaxon took his time unsnapping his harness and levering out of the weapon chair. The loss of one of their fighters soured the sweet taste of victory. When he stepped into the main cabin, the ship was on autopilot and Aegis was in the sanitizer. Good. Jaxon didn’t need to spend more time eyeballing his best bud’s tight ass and mooning about a hopeless fantasy of sharing a mate with the warrior.

The stubborn dream had sprung to life the first time he’d heard of a tri-bond, and it refused to die. After that he’d sought out all the information he could find on the sole instance of an officially sanctioned mating between two men and one woman. Each new account had given him more hope. Surely something that had happened once could happen again. If the gods favored him with a miracle, then the impossible—his forbidden craving for Aegis—would become possible. Or it would as long as he ignored the small problem of the big guy’s alien status. But his Hakanese ancestry hadn’t kept him out of the Space Corps, so maybe it wouldn’t be an issue.

Since the tri-bond was his personal fantasy, he got to make the rules, and Aegis’s Hakanese citizenship definitely wasn’t a problem for him.

After the last dogfight, he ought to be thanking the gods they’d been spared, but what he wanted was another dogfight. Fighting the stinking Baldoreans was the only time he felt like a real warrior. The only time he felt alive. The downside came when the fighting ended. Still high on the adrenaline rush, he was hornier than a spiny Anluvian in heat.

The sanitizer opened. Jaxon got busy, pretending to check his comlink for messages.

“I asked whatever gods may be to grant safe passage to Buck and Hex,” Aegis said as he finished zipping up his jumpsuit.

Jaxon kept his peepers glued to the comlink, though he couldn’t remember a single message he’d scanned. “Their fighter added to the cosmic dust?”

“Correct. This was their first rotation.”

“Damn, we only met them at last week’s briefing. They were babes, barely out of the academy.” He turned away, suddenly too aware of Aegis and too aware of how thin the line between life and death was.

“Such is too often the way.” Aegis adjusted the energy distribution between the fore and aft shields. “Your accuracy was outstanding. How many of the enemy’s Eagles did you down, three or four?”

“Yeah, something like that. You laid down some serious firepower yourself, bud. Doesn’t help the poor space jocks that lost it, though.”

Aegis didn’t reply. He raked strong fingers through his still-damp curls. The gesture was his typical mark of frustration. Suddenly Jaxon wished his hands were combing the warrior’s hair, cradling his head, forcing the big guy to accept some comfort. His fingers twitched, imagining the texture of Aegis’s curls—wet silk coating the strong bones of the man’s head.

The tops of Jaxon’s ears burned, and he jerked back from the surge of forbidden desire. He cleared his throat, swallowed, and still sounded too damn raw. “Yeah, still sucks. If you’re done with your primpin’—”

The other warrior didn’t rise to the bait. He just stood there, a picture of rugged male beauty and stoicism as he crossed his arms in front of an impressive chest and stared into the middle distance. Not for the first time, Jaxon wished he could read the big guy’s thoughts the way he could anyone else’s—a secret he’d never told anyone.

Differences weren’t prized in the corps. Perfect compliance with an impossible ideal was the standard goal for each pilot. This was why his ability to read another’s thoughts with the slightest physical contact wasn’t something he was in a big hurry to share. Besides, keeping it secret made the occasional poker night a sure thing.

It figured his special talent made absolutely no difference when it came to Aegis. His best bud was the one person he couldn’t read. Sometimes he thought that was a good thing. Most of the time, the blank wall of Aegis’s mind drove him crazy. Maybe the thought-shield thing was standard equipment for Hakanese. Aegis was the only native of that distant planet Jaxon had ever known. “I’m going to hit the san-can. Give me a shout if anything comes up, ’kay?”


Minutes later, Jaxon stared at the big jerk scowling back at him from the san unit’s mirror and mimicked himself. Give me a shout if anything comes up, ’kay? Like what? His dick?

What in the seven hells was wrong with him? They’d been together for two service periods, almost four years. They’d logged countless hours fighting, flying, qualifying, testing, and occasionally knocking back a few Cafrimal brews.

The one thing they’d never done was fuck.

There was a damn good reason for that. A couple of great reasons, actually. Number one, Jaxon didn’t swing that way. In the couple of hundred holo-sex sessions he’d experienced, he’d always picked a lady of the light; he’d never felt the urge to try a lad of light. This made his craving for Aegis harder to understand and harder to forgive.

Number two, he was pretty sure Aegis didn’t swing that direction either. In fact, the big warrior was such a hard-ass that Jaxon wasn’t sure he indulged in anything as human as sex. Number three, and the real clincher, was same-sex humping meant instant ejection from the Space Corps and pretty much the end of everything he’d ever wanted in this life, including hangin’ out with Aegis.

Whatever his sick obsession with his best friend was about, Jaxon didn’t care. The dream of a tri-bond was just that—a pure fantasy. He wanted it gone. But that was easier wished than done, especially since he spent most of his time living with the big guy in the fighter’s cramped quarters. The craft was built for speed and killing, not room or comfort.

He stripped off his one-piece, tossed it in the cleaner, and then banged his elbow getting into the torture chamber that passed for a fighter’s shower. Sensors took care of the rest, spraying him with lukewarm water, a thin layer of sanitizing gel, followed by the final rinse, and then a slow blast of hot air. While he calmed down under the influence of the impersonal squirts and blasts, his jumpsuit underwent a similar procedure.

A clean body and clean clothes actually improved his mood. He inspected his mug without any smart-ass commentary and decided shaving was a waste of time. Tugging his mouth into a lopsided grin, he left the sanitizer.

Aegis raised an eyebrow. “You had best sit, Jaxon.”

“Why, what’s up?” Damn, he had to quit saying this kind of stuff.

“Sit first.”

Jaxon parked his ass on the edge of the console. “I’m braced. Lay it on me.” He really needed to quit saying this kind of stuff.

“We have been matched.”

Jaxon stared at him, wondering what the punch line was. Wait a nanosec. Aegis didn’t make jokes. “We’ve been matched?”

“We, as in you and I, have been matched by GAIS with an Earthling breeder.”

’Kay, but not to each other. Of course not. Keep breathing, idiot. “What’s the catch?” Skepticism was automatic, but he couldn’t keep new hope from flooding into his head. A fucking tri-bond.

He shrugged. “I do not understand the communication. Since I am not eligible, the message must be an error.”

“Exactly where’d you get this hot scoop?” Jaxon narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion, trying to contain his wild rise of excitement.

“Standard galactic is not my first language, but I am competent to translate it and seven other languages, including Baldorean.”

“Sorry, bud.”

“You meant no offense.” The warrior accepted his apology with a brief nod. “The message arrived in a properly encoded hologram from headquarters. The delivery was in the same form as any other official communication. You are welcome to check the incoming queue.”

“Both of us matched to the same breeder? Beyond weird.” Right into dream-come-true territory. “You ever heard of anything like that happening?”

“There have been no GAIS double matches to the best of my knowledge, though a tri-bond is on record.”

A thing that happened once can happen again. Jaxon’s heart beat faster just thinking about the possibility. “Yeah, I know.” He’d damn near memorized the special sanction text. “It took what? An act from the council of elders to get that tri-bond recognized. Now all of sudden, you and I get matched to the same woman? Please.” Jaxon added a manly snort, keeping his crazy hopes for an officially sanctioned three-way mating right where they belonged—in his fucked-up head.

Aegis winced. “I agree. The notification has to be in error. Aliens, whether naturalized or not, have never been included in the genetic database.”

“Damn, you know that’s not what I was talkin’ about.”

“I know,” Aegis said flatly. “She is beautiful.”

An awkward change of subject, but Jaxon jumped on it with an eager grin. “Fire up the damn display. I gotta see this woman.”

With a few commands, Aegis played the message.

The big guy hadn’t exaggerated. On a scale of one to ten, a ten being the best holo-ho Jaxon had ever dreamed up, she was a fifteen. The earthling was some kind of serious beautiful. Almost white blonde hair, hazel eyes, and creamy skin decorated a body built for breeding.

Even better, she was the official filling for an Aegis-and-him sandwich. His cock jerked hopefully against his one-piece. He ignored his hard-on and stared at the lifelike image as the woman rotated a full three sixty. She didn’t have a bad side.

The cool, faintly mechanical voice of the medi-scan computer provided catchy play-by-plays. “Hold your breath please.” Followed by, “Please breathe normally.” Topped off with, “Please hold still.”

When can I get dressed?” The little beauty’s tone was definitely frosty. Even pissed off, her voice was sheer erotic magic. And her mouth was made for sin.

Jaxon grinned. “Never, sweetheart, never.”

“She was speaking to the medi-scan unit,” Aegis said dryly.

“I know.” Jaxon didn’t take his eyes off her naked perfection, and he didn’t even try to wipe the ass-eating grin off his mug.

Bright green letters flashed every ten seconds, announcing Jaxon Farquhar, Aegis Trykol, and Camille d’Rondeur—match approved.

If he’d been alone, he would have replayed the message until he wore out the holo-unit or until more Baldoreans showed up, whichever came first. Since Aegis had on his stone face, Jaxon killed the display. “Even her name is beautiful—Camille. Did we get lucky or what?”

“The message is in error. I am not eligible.”

“You were naturalized, what, five years ago?”

“Seven,” Aegis corrected him flatly.

“There you go. GAIS expanded its parameters to include naturalized citizens. You just didn’t get the memo.” Jaxon kept babbling like a nervous cadet. “Hey, if they opened it up to male dominant sperm producers, they’ve got no standards. Why not Hakanese?”

The big guy didn’t laugh at his lame attempt at lightening the sitch. Instead he pushed up his sleeve and flexed an awe-inspiring bicep. “My tattoo still reads F-class, and there’s been no message informing me of change in status. Under the circumstances, it is illogical to assume the match communication is anything other than a system error.”

“I don’t care about logic. Until someone tells me different, I’m the luckiest space jock flying,” Jaxon grumbled.

His bud almost smiled. “For your sake, I hope the message is semiaccurate.”
Jaxon nodded, keeping his grin wide. “I’m going see if I can do something to boost the forward shields.”

“Nothing lost in the attempt,” Aegis said without any real conviction.

As soon as Jaxon cleared the cabin, he let go of the grin. Semiaccurate wouldn’t cut it for him. He wanted the breeder, but this was a new want. A hunger that did nothing to lessen his feelings for Aegis. Getting it on with both of them at the same time was his ultimate fantasy.

A fantasy he damn well planned to make come true.

Friday, March 11, 2011

I Don't Know What I'm Talking About Anymore!

I suppose you think you do?
Take a look at these definitions found on

WOOT - An interjection similar to "YAYE!" or "Woohoo!" used to express joy or excitement, usually about some kind of accomplishment.
BUT, did you know:
As an acronym, can mean Waste of Our Time or Way Out of Topic
Woot originated as a hacker term for root (or administrative) access to a computer.
"w00t" was originally a truncated expression common among players of Dungeons and Dragons tabletop role-playing game for "Wow, loot!"

SQUEE – To squeal with glee; from a combination of the two words; the sound of an excited fangirl.
BUT, did you know:
SQUEE is a comic made by Jhonen Vasquez. It's all about a boy name Todd (nicknamed Squee for the sound he makes when he's scared) and the horrible things that happen to him, like alien abductions or having the Devil's son as a friend.

YAY - Used as an exclamation of pleasure, approval, elation, or victory.
BUT, did you know:
Yay is slang for Cocaine, popular in California's Bay Area.

LOL - It's original definition was "Laughing out loud" (also written occasionally as "Lots of Laughs"), used as a brief acronym to denote great amusement in chat conversations.
BUT, did you know:
Depending on the chatter, its definition may vary. The list of its meanings includes, but is not limited to:
1) "I have nothing worthwhile to contribute to this conversation."
2) "I'm too lazy to read what you just wrote so I'm typing something useless in hopes that you'll think I'm still paying attention."
3) "Your statement lacks even the vaguest trace of humor but I'll pretend I'm amused."
4) "This is a pointless acronym I'm sticking in my sentence just because it's become so engraved into my mind that when chatting, I MUST use the meaningless sentence-filler 'lol.'"

Noob vs Newb - Contrary to the belief of many, a noob/n00b and a newbie/newb are not the same thing. Newbs are those who are new to some task* and are very beginner at it, possibly a little overconfident about it, but they are willing to learn and fix their errors to move out of that stage. n00bs, on the other hand, know little and have no will to learn any more. They expect people to do the work for them and then expect to get praised about it, and make up a unique species of their own.
A noob or n00b is someone that lacks intelligence or common sense, most people think that noob is a word used only in the online gaming world, but in reality it is becoming an ever-popular word with teenage society.

1) A great word to shout out.
2) A woman's vagina.
3) A blow to the face or genitalia.
4) Used by Tweety.
5) An offensive term for a person.
6) Acronym for The War Against Terrorism.
7) A derogatory term for a person whose behavior is considered to be extremely or intolerably ignorant, obnoxious, offensive or moronic.
8) To strike someone (this definition is almost certainly of Northern English origin).

WOOHOO - Extreme satisfaction. There is really no other way to say it. Famous from use on The Simpsons.
BUT, did you know:
Woohoo is a term for "sex" in the Sims 2 simulation game. In order to keep it rated "T" for teen, Maxis needed to use "woohoo" instead of "sex".

ROFL is an Internet acronym for Rolling On Floor Laughing, and like all things Internet it has adapted to nerd culture and has taken on new real-life use, though usually in a satirical way.

While Internet definitions of words continue to evolve, or devolve depending on your viewpoint, I offer my latest personal favorite:
ROFLAARP: Rolling On Floor Looking At Assorted Rodent Pornography.

So, am I the only one who doesn't know what he's talking about anymore?