Category Archives: Tantalizing Teaser Tuesday

Tantalizing Teaser Tuesday: The Marriage Groups: Elian

Apr 3

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Here is your Tantalizing Teaser Tuesday post from my (unedited) WIP (inspired by Cherie Noel and Dr. Porne) entitled: The Marriage Groups, Book One: Elian

 

Blurb:

Elian Glinkobia is the youngest son of his family. Born on the planet, Kardalusia, he is the only breeder, the only coração, born to a family full of Kartusian warriors and soldiers. He was born with no other purpose than to be the coração of a marriage group, there to serve them in every manner that they needed. Or so he thinks. Attending his final marriage soiree, Elian believes that he will not be picked by any marriage group and is destined to live his life alone, or as a prostitute. He is beyond shocked to find out that he was chosen by the royal marriage group the year before. He is to be the coração, the heart, of the three kings, Nevin, Corbin, and Gaige.

However, things are not always as easy as they seem. Before Elian can even settle into his position as The Royal Coração, someone attempts to murder him. Placed under lock and key in the palace by his husbands, Elian begins to discover that the gods of the Kartusians, gifted him with a lot more than he could have ever expected.

Will Elian’s special gifts come in handy when he needs them to save his husbands and their people, or was everyone right about his worthlessness?

 

Excerpt

Elian looked around the room and gritted his teeth against the moan that threatened to pour forth from his lips. It seemed as if he’d walked into every gay man’s fantasy. A room filled with sexy, muscled men, all looking for commitment. Elian should feel a little out of place. He was only 5’5″, the only black guy in the room and the only big muscle that he had was the one in his pants. He couldn’t believe how many men were there. His mouth filled with saliva and he swallowed thickly in order to stop the drool from escaping his lips and spilling down his chin. He wanted to scream out that he was there, ready for someone, anyone, from one of the marriage groups to pick him, choose him, but from the group of fifteen unattached, marriageable men, it was only him and four of his friends left and he was the only one standing by himself.

He sighed in despair. His parents would be livid if he came home tonight. He was supposed to be chosen and married today. He was supposed to be grabbing his luggage from his room and going off with the three other men who would make up his marriage group. He was eighteen years old. Almost nineteen. And this was his fourth and final marriage soiree. If he wasn’t chosen tonight, he’d be forced into servitude, spinsterhood, or making his living as a prostitute. His fathers were already deeply upset with him because he’d been passed over three other times. Especially since he was the only one of their children not born as a soldier or a warrior or even as a doctor. Elian had been born as a breeder. That was it. His sole purpose in life was to lay on his back, his side, on his hands and knees and be fucked all day and night and give birth to more of the Kartusians.

He hadn’t asked to be born as a breeder. Hell, he hadn’t asked to be born into his family or as a Kartusian. It was a fucking luck of the draw. One that he was being punished for.

Looking around the room again, he sighed in despair. All the time that he’d spent gazing into nothingness and daydreaming and no one had approached him. What was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he been picked yet? He realized that all of his friends had been chosen and there were still four marriage groups left, none of which were even looking at him. Perhaps his dads had been wrong. Maybe he was a little too reminiscent of the females of their species that had died off over ten millenia before. Elian was aware that he was a lot smaller, thinner, his skin was a lot softer and his facial features a lot more pretty than any other Kartusian male in history. But once again, it was not his fault. It wasn’t as if he’d consulted with and pleaded for the God Alusia to make him this way. He hadn’t. Not at all.

At least, not that he knew of.

“So, why are you still here? I would have thought that you’d be off packing your bags, ready to leave with your marriage group,” the waiter standing next to him said as he placed his tray on the counter behind Elian.

Startled, Elian turned with a gasp to look up at the other man. The waiter was gorgeous. He stood about 6’1″ and had the most gorgeous pale green eyes that Elian had ever seen on a Kartusian before. So lost was he in the beauty of the man before him, that it took him a while to process exactly what he’d said.

“My what? I don’t have a marriage group,” Elian stated, hearing the sadness in his own voice. He glanced up at the clock, aware that in less than fifteen minutes the soiree would be over and he would once again be left alone. Though this time he would be alone and destitute.

The waiter looked confusedly down at him before pulling a picture out of his inner pocket. Showing the picture to him, Elian was amazed to see a picture of him from a year before.

“Isn’t this you?” the waiter asked.

Elian nodded before he responded. “Y-y-yes.”

Why the hell did the waiter have a picture of him from a year before? A picture that looked as if it were taken of Elian when he was unaware that he was being photographed. It looked like it was a picture of Elian walking to class, which was just…strange, who would want a picture of him, walking to class?

“Where the hell did you get this picture?” he asked the waiter, hoping that his voice didn’t sound as shaky and fearful as his insides felt.

“Why the new kings passed it out at the beginning of the soiree, letting everyone know that you were a part of their marriage group and were not to be approached with an offer,” the waiter said as if that explained everything.

It explained nothing,  however. Why the hell would the kings want him to be a part of their marriage group? And if that were true then where the hell were they?

As if his thoughts had conjured them, Elian gasped at the sight of the three kings, easily the tallest, broadest, strongest men in all of Kardalusia, walking through the door. As one they all turned towards him and made their way in his direction. Elian felt frozen in place. His eyes took in each of the three men. Nevin Cannington, the eldest of the three kings, the direct descendant of the previous kings, stood at 6′ 9″, had black hair that was trimmed close at the nape and sides, tapered to a slightly longer length on top, that rested at his ears, with gorgeous hazel brown eyes, had the widest grin on his face. He was dressed in a white royal suit, trimmed with gold embroidery, with a gold button up shirt underneath. His skin, which was deliciously tanned called to Elian and he found himself clenching his hands in order to prevent himself from reaching out to the older man who was at the very least, twenty years his senior. Corbin Dyer-Cannington, stood at 6’8″, just slightly shorter than Nevin, his brown hair hung in thick, luxurious waves to his shoulders, begging for Elian to run his slim fingers through them, while he too had hazel brown eyes, there seemed to be a spark of gold that flared in their depths when he looked at Elian. He was dressed in a white suit as well, though his was trimmed with blue embroidery and clung to his extremely muscled frame, though he wore no shirt beneath the suit, giving Elian a clear view of the tattoos that the other man had obtained during his training on Zarxion. Elian felt his cock thicken behind the slacks of his own black tuxedo pants, feeling a bit like a hobo next to the kings, his long black hair, that hung in black waves to his waist, suddenly feeling a lot heavier than it had just moments before. It was the sight of Gaige Nobriga-Cannington, however, the only king with a naturally caramel skin tone, that robbed Elian of his breath. Gaige’s 6’6″, thickly muscled frame screamed out danger to anyone who looked at him. His blond hair invited the curious to touch it, with its gloriously golden highlights and waves, it fell to just below Gaige’s shoulders. It was the sight of the scar on Gaige’s cheek that caused one to rethink their approach to him, however.

Elian had heard the story of the third king. Heard that he had “the sight”, that Gaige could see into the future. It fascinated him. Gaige was most assuredly a man who played by his own rules, dressed in a white suit, as was customary of royalty, he wore a red shirt beneath a black leather vest, underneath his suit jacket. On Gaige’s right wrist Elian saw a leather bracelet with diamond studs embedded within and a tattoo of a snake that wrapped itself around his left one. He felt himself shiver as the three kings all stopped before him, surrounding him in a semi-circle and he was distantly aware that every man in the room had knelt on one knee, showing honor to the monarchy. He knew that he should bow to his kings, that he should probably lay prostrate before them, but all he could do in that moment, was stare at them.

And hope he didn’t embarrass himself by begging them all to fuck him.

“You are ours Elian Glinkobia. Gather your belongings, you are now the coração of our marriage group,” King Nevin stated.

Posted in Gay Fiction, Gay Romance, New Book, New Series, Tantalizing Teaser Tuesday, WIP

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Tantalizing Teaser Tuesday: Daddy’s Boy

Mar 20

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Here is your Tantalizing Teaser Tuesday post from my novel: Daddy’s Boy.

And your warning: While this particular excerpt is not as dark and gritty as the rest of the book, this book is not for the faint of heart. This book deals with abuse, rape, prostitution, transgenderism, single parenting, sex slave trade, homosexuality, rent-boys, sex-for-hire, gold-diggers, paid companionship, men in the closet, men who cheat on their wives (adultery) and AIDS. I decided to break down barriers and cross lines….this book is truth in its grittiest of forms, but don’t worry romance, sex and a delightful happily-ever-after still await you at the end, but expect to have some war wounds by the time you finish, because the characters sure will.

If you’re still interested then please read on…….

-Vicktor Alexander

 

Daddy’s Boy

The sound of the multi-colored Venetian vase colliding with my white tiled floor caused every nerve in my body to jump.  More than just my body jumped at the sound, my heart leapt into my throat and I raced forward into my living room, falling to my knees, my hands reaching out desperately to grasp the sharp, jagged pieces of the priceless item.  I ignored the painful slices of the glass as the broken glass cut into my skin, I cared only for the remnants of this souvenir that reminded me so much of Jack.

Jack.  My breath caught in my throat.  My eyes burned with unshed tears and I inhaled shakily.  What the hell was I going to do without Jack?  I needed him.  More than I needed my next breath.  More than I needed to sleep or eat or do anything, I needed Jack.  I lowered my head, forcing back the tears, biting down on the inside of my cheek hard, the coppery taste of my own blood having no effect on my current state of mind.  I had to get up.  I had to get moving.  I absolutely had to go to this party tonight.  It wasn’t optional for me.  It wasn’t a suggestion.  It was a fucking requirement.  A need.  It was a goddamn law as far as I was concerned.  Jack had left me nothing.  My life ended the day I found out that he wouldn’t return to me again.  I had to go to this party and keep my life moving.  I had to keep my head above water somehow.  Jack wasn’t there to keep me lifted, so I had to lift my own damn head above this raging tide of bullshit.

With a sigh of frustration, I sat back on my heels before lifting myself gracefully to my feet.  I couldn’t even take pleasure in the knowledge that my dance and stripper classes had paid off so well.  I couldn’t care about those things.  I had to get ready.  I had to make myself beautiful.  I didn’t have much time.  I had to go and I had to go now.

I turned towards my kitchen, passing by all of the remaining knickknacks, treasures, expensive pieces of pure white furniture that lay professionally and artistically sprawled about my loft apartment.  I cared not about the rare paintings by Van Gogh or the priceless editions of works by Shakespeare or Chaucer.  These things were priceless, yes.  I was well aware of their monetary value.  I had catalogued each piece when Jack was still with me, but now?  Now they were only harsh memories and glaring reminders of what I was no longer in possession of.  They were priceless for a totally different reason now and I had to make sure that they were well-cared for, because if tonight didn’t go well…I gave myself a firm mental shake.  I wouldn’t even allow myself to go there.  Failure wasn’t an option for me.  I would be successful tonight.  I didn’t have a choice.

Having thrown away and cleaned up the broken pieces of the 2.5 million dollar vase, the cost of that one item punching me in the stomach like a hard fist, something I was extremely familiar with, I made my way upstairs to my master bathroom.  My feet were silent as I walked across the soft white carpet.  Usually I would be curling my toes into the thick, white carpet, a huge grin of delight on my face, happiness filling my being as I gloried in the sensation of the fiber beneath my feet, but there was no smile this evening.  Ice flowed through my veins.  My hands shook as I lifted my black eyeliner to the lid of my right eye and attempted to draw a straight line.

I was nervous and I hadn’t been nervous in years.  I was scared and fear was an emotion that I had long since choked the life out of and cast out of my entire existence.  The presence of these two emotions was daunting, unnerving and made me even more determined to make sure that tonight was a success.  I straightened my shoulders and exhaled, my eyes closing briefly as I centered myself.  Reigning in my runaway emotions and capturing every fucking butterfly that flapped its disgusting wings in my belly, I silently began chanting my mantra as I finished putting on my eyeliner and gloss, before returning to my bedroom to change.

I am beauty.  Beauty is me.  None can resist beauty and none can truly afford it.  But beauty can be earned through persistence and courage and a nice, fat wallet.  I chuckled silently as I remembered Jack’s expression of shock and then amusement the first time he’d heard me utter that mantra.  He hadn’t asked me questions, but I knew that I had to only utter those words to myself from then on.

Jack.  There it was again.  That same sickening feeling of dread filling my stomach with butterflies and my throat with nausea, causing my head to swim and my hands to shake.  I had to stop thinking of him, had to push Jack as far away from my mind as I possibly could if I planned on making tonight a success.  I had to focus on the goal, the finish line, the reason I was going out five days after Jack’s funeral.  A funeral that I wasn’t even allowed to attend.  This was a strategic move on my part.  But then again, everything had been a strategic move on my part, since the day that I turned seventeen.

I put one hand against my front door and put the other hand to my mouth, not recalling how I’d come to be back downstairs, completely dressed in a black button down shirt, white suit, slim white tie and black Italian loafers, trimmed in gold.  Shoes that Jack had bought me.  The last thing that he’d ever bought me.  I inhaled deeply and forced back the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me and bring me to my knees.  I blinked back the unshed tears and reached for my trusty emotional guard.  I would need it this night.

With another deep inhale I picked up my wallet, apartment keys, car keys, gate access card, elevator key, and most important, a few condoms.  I had to make sure that I was prepared.  Prepared for any scenario, any play, any eventuality.  I walked out of my apartment, making sure to lock the door behind me and stepped towards the elevator.  I bit my lower lip nervously as my mind flashed with images of every possible occurrence, each one filling me with fear, hope, excitement and worst of all…shame.

What the hell was that about?

Stepping out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened into the lobby I walked slowly, seductively, purposefully towards the front entrance, nodding at all of those who said my name, hoping that they didn’t notice the fluttering of my pulse in my neck, nor the light sheen of sweat on my forehead.  When no one stopped me before I stepped out of the door, I knew then that Jack had been write about something else…again.

Jack had told me about faking confidence in front of people, about having the right shield up with different people.  Some needed the shield to keep them from prying in your life to gossip about you.  Some needed the shield to keep them from using the information that they gleaned against you.  But it was those last people, those horrible people that had so fully filled both him and Jack with an inexplicable surge of fear.  They were the people that you needed to have not only a shield against them but a moat, drawbridge and a fucking dragon, because they were the type of people who actually cared about you and what happened to you.

I didn’t need people in my life like that when Jack was still alive and I certainly didn’t need that type of person in my life now.  No, I had a plan.  I had a goal and nothing was going to stop me from meeting that goal.  Nothing.  It was how I got Jack, how I was so successful in every, single one of my previous goals and why I knew that my goal for tonight was going to go off without a hitch.

I smiled slightly at the doorman who watched me closely.  David Rush had never liked me.  He’d spent a fair amount of time telling me that I didn’t deserve Jack and that I was really just a gold digger.  The glares and condescending attitude was getting quite old and though I’d deny it even under threat of torture, it was all starting to hurt some small part of my heart, probably the only part that still existed, and it was making me angry and as if I wanted to cry.  Like failing, crying was also not an option.

“And how are you this evening Mr. Simpston?” David asked, not expecting a response from me, though he knew that I would give him one anyway.  David may hate me, but I hated him just as much.

I just nodded in answer, noticing the sneer that came to David’s face moments before he responded again.

“It’s such a horrible thing that happened to Mr. Binzington.  Isn’t it?  Have you decided if you’re going to stay here or move yet Mr. Simpston?” the doorman asked in a low voice and seeing that my taxicab was pulling around the corner, I squared my shoulders and hid my trembling hands into my pants pockets.  David would see my shaking hands as a sign of guilt, shame and fear.  He would only be a third correct.  I was fearful but not for the reason that he was thinking.  I was only fearful because of the unknown factors of the evening.  It was something that I would overcome.  Eventually.  I fiddled with the money in my pocket.  It was going to be $26.13 for me to take the cab to the home where the party was being held.  Giving a tip wasn’t necessary and in my case, it wasn’t my best option, nor even worthy of consideration, so I wouldn’t be giving one.

Stepping towards the awaiting cab I gave David a politely false smile and said, “I’m not going anywhere David.  I cared for Mr. Binzington, but I won’t have you trying to run me off because of it.”  With those words stated in a huff, I climbed into my red Ferrari and headed off towards the party.

Toward my date with destiny.

Toward the night that changed my life forever.

Posted in Gay Fiction, Gay Romance, New Book, Tantalizing Teaser Tuesday, WIP

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