Man, some open doors were not welcoming, and that was so the case here—less hi-how’re-ya, more come-in-so-your-skin-can-be-used-to-make-a-super-hero-cape-for-one-of-Hannibal-Lecter’s-patients.

In so many ways, he had wanted this his whole life—or at least ever since he’d survived his transition and had any sexual impulse at all. This moment was the culmination of countless daydreams and innumerable fantasies, his secret desire made manifest.

End of the day, the quick and the dead are the same. Everyone's just looking for home.

I'm so very grateful to the readers who put down their hard-earned money to read what I write. They don't have to do that. They choose to. And I try and earn that trust every time I put out a book. I know that sometimes the stories head into challenging territory and I respect that that can be hard. It's a wonderful journey, though, and I'm so glad we're all on it together!

After a moment the king said, "So be it." Zsadist cursed. Butch whistled low. Rhage bit into a Tootsie Pop.

Phury?" "No, I'm not gay." "Don't feel like you need to hide it or anything." "I wouldn't. I'm just not." "You bi, then?

You sure about this?" he asked in a guttural voice. "I get down on that mattress right now, I'm not stopping until I'm inside of you.