Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Twice Removed From Yesterday - last MidWeek Tease of February

February 28, 2018

Have you ever noticed how the end of February sneaks up on you? It happens to me every year.

Welcome to the last MidWeek Tease blog hop of February! This week I'm revisiting the Men of Marionville collection with Twice Removed From Yesterday with an excerpt you won't find (legally) anywhere else. 

Be sure to check out all the MWT blogs by using the list at the end of this post. Enjoy!


Asking a few nosey questions seemed to be in order. The worst that could happen was he would tell me to mind my own business. I took the chance.

“So what’s your hesitation on the house? Smart money says Dylan pays you pretty good. Heck, I’m a temporary employee and he’s paying me like I’m a regular hire.”

He turned onto a side road and in a few moments, we were parked beside a stream. Just ahead I could see an old wooden covered bridge. It was a picture worthy of a frame.

August leaned toward me and slipped his arm around my shoulders. My gaze collided with his and held it. His lips parted. I slid toward him and let him kiss me. I knew a second of complete stillness and peace in which I marveled at the soft texture of his lips as they moved over mine, and then a heat bomb fired off inside me.

My skin flashed hot as I reached for him. Goosebumps spread over my thighs and ass. My balls tingled and drew up close to my body. My cock hardened in a deliciously throbbing rush as the need to sink into him ripped the air from my lungs.

He surged forward to push me down beneath him on the narrow car seat. His hand was cool as he slipped it down the front of my jeans to fist my shaft and I realized he was incredibly tense for a man making his move. I flicked my tongue to his and lifted my hips to move my dick in his hand.

He smiled against my mouth and pulled away. He looked a bit sheepish. “I didn’t plan to jump you like this, Chandler.”

“Thank goodness you did. It clears up a few things for me.” I pulled his mouth back to mine.

This kiss was no less tame as we nibbled and tested each other, searching for boundaries and finding none. His silky tongue slid over mine. He withdrew and I followed. Back and forth we parried until I was breathless. He pulled away again, releasing my erection and sitting up to put both hands on the steering wheel. I missed his warmth as caught my breath. A quick glance showed me he was equally out of breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

I pondered the wisdom of giving him a blowjob. It would be so easy to unzip his jeans and bend over him. In this secluded, idyllic spot, who would see?

But he’d moved away from me, a sure sign he wasn’t ready for more and any move I made might be overstepping a boundary. I took my cue from him and sat up straight to pull my shirt into place.
I grinned. “You can bring me out here every day for that.”

He hung his head. “You shouldn’t tempt me. And you have to quit The Wharf at the end of your week.”

I blinked at him. He was serious. “Oh? Just why do I need to do that?”

“How can I ask you out on a real date if you technically work for me? There are sexual harassment laws about employers taking advantage of employees, you know.”

So that was his hang up. It was actually a relief to learn where his head was at with me. I understood his caution but I also knew he and I had to get the sex out of the way and in a hurry. I sensed we were wired the same in that regard. If the sex didn’t work, we’d settle our asses down and be friends, and not friends with benefits.

And if the sex did work for both of us? The answer to that question, that possibility, was best left in the future.

I snorted. “Who said anything about sex?”

He echoed the noise I’d made. “My hard dick and your hard dick.”

“Well, there is that.” I held my hand out to him and he wrapped his fingers around mine. “Relax, Gus. Let’s just go with the flow for a few days, okay?”

“I’m serious, Chandler. I can’t bring that sort of risk into The Wharf. Dylan’s been too good to me. I…I want to take this to the next level, but I can’t until you’re done.”

A wave of carnal frustration hit me. I understood where he was coming from, but I thought he was being overly cautious. He wanted me as much as I wanted him and he wanted to wait? Yeah, it would make me crazy to be near him and know his balls tingled the way mine did.

“Okay. Just for you, I’ll force myself to behave until then.”

It was his turn to blink at me. “You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

I flashed him my best smile. “Take me home, Mr. Howard. I need to get ready for work and so do you. And yes. Gird your loins, so to speak. I plan to torture you.”



Chandler Beck is at a crossroads. To move forward, he has to take a trip back to the biggest regret in his life. He discovers a man happily settled down with a partner, both of whom are ready to call him a friend. When they offer him a place to rest, Chandler ends up in their guest room and with a job at the best restaurant in town.

Once a rising star on the pro golf circuit, a back injury forced August Howard to give up the game. Swallowing his pride, he accepted a job waiting tables and worked his way up to the manager of The Wharf, the area’s premier restaurant. He’s not happy when the owner does a favor for a friend and hires the seemingly inexperienced Chandler Beck as a bartender.

It doesn’t take Chandler long to win over the prickly August, but August is a man with secrets. Their friendship heats up and when August’s past comes calling, Chandler pays the price. The only option open is for August to confess all and hope those around him, especially Chandler, will accept he’s a different man from who he was in his yesterdays.  

Now available at:

KC Kendricks

Sunday, February 18, 2018

Today in History, February 18 - It's in the nickname

sunrise on the mountain
February 18, 2018

Today is one of the few days a year I know I won't open a manuscript-in-progress and work on it. Today is Daytona Sunday. 

My enjoyment of NASCAR began way back in the day when my Uncle Bob would take my cousin Linda and me with him to the local dirt track. I'm sure I thought the dirt track was great fun but you won't find me at one now. Dirt in my hair is NOT my thing. Linda and I could also pick any Sunday to sit in our Aunt Libby's backyard and watch the cars at the local dragstrip, too. Our county has a long and storied history of a vibrant car culture.  

NASCAR has gone through a lot of changes since the 1970's, some good, some bad. NASCAR is a single-family owned franchise - an oddity in the realm of sport. Sometimes they make crazy stupid rules but my sense of it is they don't want another death during a race. NASCAR is a lot tamer than it used to be. 

On this date in history, February 18, 2001, NASCAR legend Dale Earnhardt, Sr. died in a crash on the last lap of the Daytona 500. I think Darrell Waltrip summed it up best: "Live by the push, die by the push." I think he was talking in a more metaphysical sense when he said that, nevertheless, Earnhardt earned his nickname of The Intimidator by perfecting "the push." He did a lot of "blocking," too, and we all saw how badly that ended. 

I wasn't a Senior fan, although I did like Junior. "My" driver was always Terry LaBonte (#5). I just liked the way he drove. They called him The Iceman for his seemingly unflappable style and coolness under pressure. Terry didn't go out and deliberately wreck other drivers. Later, they called him "Iron Man" for the number of consecutive starts he had over his career. After Terry retired, I started to pay attention to Tony Stewart. You know. The guy they called "Smoke" for his temper. I loved his outspoken attitude and fearlessness in telling the France family (NASCAR owners) the truth. Alas, he too retired. 

You know folks in the South love their nicknames. If you earn one, wear it like the badge of honor it is.

But there was hope. Stewart partnered with Gene Haas to create Stewart Haas Racing, which has four drivers. And one of those drivers is Kevin Harvick. I kinda slid into paying attention to him and now he's my driver. Happy Harvick is what Darrell Waltrip calls him. I think they should call Harvick "The Instigator" but that's for another blog. 

It wasn't until this morning that it struck me that Kevin Harvick is the driver they tapped to take over the #3 ride when Dale Earnhardt, Sr. was killed on this date back in 2001. 

So here we are with this year's Daytona 500 falling on the date in history, February 18, of Senior's demise. I can just hear those chatterbox announcers now. 

Maybe, just maybe, I'd be better off writing today. 

KC Kendricks

PS. The spousal unit will be cheering for Kyle Busch. They call him, "Rowdy." 

Saturday, February 10, 2018

Cover reveal - A Perfect Hire by KC Kendricks

February 10, 2018

Greetings from wet western Maryland! Snow, ice, rain. Gotta love living in the Mid-Atlantic region. 

I suppose the winter weather inspired me to get to work on A Perfect Hire. You've heard the phrase, "when hell freezes over." Well, hell froze over. That's the only explanation I can give for my decision to re-release this book. 

That and fact that since I've undone all the "editing" done at a publisher-who-will-not-be-named, the book is back to its original vision and story. 

The cover turned out okay. I've made better. I've made worse. This one is okay. I wanted to keep it simple with a store/shop background and a guy. And since the guy is hired to work in a specialty shop that sells coffee and wine, it was appropriate to have a cup of coffee and a glass of wine by his side. It works for me. 

The big question? When is the story going live? Probably February 24 or 25. I know it won't be on February 18. That's the day of the Daytona 500. Priorities, you know. 


Shopkeeper Chris Douglas traveled the world as a tour guide. He settled in New York City, and turned his love of coffees and wines from around the world into a thriving specialty business. He enjoys meeting new people and his small emporium just off Bleecker Street brings all sorts through his door. After he falls off a ladder, Chris tapes a “help wanted” sign on the door and hopes it will attract the right person.

Eric Todd is at loose ends after the company he worked for changed hands and he was let go. He can get by financially, but with too many hours to fill in a day, he’d like a part-time job to keep busy. When he spies the hand-drawn sign on the door of The Corked Bean, he goes inside to check out the store, and the sexy proprietor.

The two men hit it off and Chris hires Eric on the spot. Now the pay and benefits aren’t as enticing, or satisfying, as the after-hours perks available for the perfect hire.


Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Beneath Dark Stars by KC Kendricks for the MidWeek Tease

February 7, 2018
**Updated 4/2/21 - the MidWeek blog hop has been discontinued.**

Welcome to the MidWeek Tease blog hop! This week I've got an excerpt from Beneath Dark Stars. Our heroes are a detective and his shapeshifter lover. And he's not your garden variety shapeshifter, either. He's a true shapeshifter, able to take on many forms. 

Be sure to check out all the MidWeek Tease blogs using the list at the end of the post. I hope you enjoy the excerpt! 


Beneath Dark Stars
Book 2 of the Sundown Saga
Gay romance with a paranormal shift

Have you met a shapeshifter? How would you know?

Fallon Roxbury, seasoned detective and special police consultant, knows that appearances can be deceiving. Trained to gather the clues and arrive at logical conclusions, he fits the puzzle pieces of a situation together to find the truth. But there’s nothing reasonable in Fallon’s attraction to the sexy, secretive shapeshifter called Sundown.

Sundown has studied people all his life. Having his very own human male is all he ever wanted. In Fallon, he’s found a man he can trust with his secrets and reveal his true nature. Keeping Fallon happy is a joyful exercise into which Sundown puts his heart and soul—when he’s not teasing Fallon’s police partner by leaving strange footprints at crime scenes, that is.

Fallon’s new case ties into an old one. At a dead end, he knows it’s time to ask Sundown for a little help. With his special abilities, Sundown can get into places Fallon can’t. All Fallon has to do is figure out a way to prove what he already knows. But what’s a cop to do when the truth takes a shift that’s stranger than fiction?


With a groan, I collapsed onto him. He let out a loud umpf and, with his surprising strength, flipped me over onto my back. I was too limp to protest even had I wanted to. A satisfied purr vibrated out of him as he snuggled tight against my side. I found his hand, laced my fingers through his, and asked him a question he’d so far avoided answering.

“When are you going to tell me what it’s like for you, Sundown?”

He sighed. “It’s what I wish it to be, Fallon.”

I’d heard that before. He was uncomfortable with my curiosity about what was normal for his kind. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust me, but more I needed to be patient with him for a little longer. I turned my head and kissed his temple.

“I’ll do a little better by you this afternoon, babe. I promise.”

“Now you’re trying to bribe me, are you not? Very well, Fallon. The more pleasure receptors I align for sexual enjoyment, the more intense the experience.”

I had asked, so I confirmed one of my suspicions. “So sometimes you ‘align’ a lot of them, like this morning?”

“Yes. And sometimes, I wish for something different. This afternoon may be one of those times.” His green eyes gleamed warmly above his smile. “You’ll need to spend a lot of time touching me to find them all.”

“Not a problem, babe. Is coffee a problem? I mean, since I’m awake now and all that. And I did stimulate your pleasure receptors for you.”

Without a word, Sundown rolled from the bed and padded off to the bathroom, his footsteps silent on the carpet. The skin he wore for me was quite attractive. Tall and slender, he moved with a controlled grace, each step measured, no effort wasted. His shiny dark hair, green eyes, and full, berry-colored lips were perfect—too perfect if someone looked closely at my shapeshifter lover. I closed my eyes and listened to him move around the apartment, finally reopening them to admire his form as he returned carrying two cups of coffee.

I accepted both mugs until he rejoined me under the sheet, then handed one back to him. I loved these lazy mornings when we the most strenuous thing we had to do was nothing at all. Sundown rubbed his thigh against mine.

“Tell me more about this girl whose killer you seek.”

If I didn’t tell him, he’d chatter at me until I did. It was better to give him the short version and get it over with, even though I knew it would upset his tender heart.

“Maria DeLong’s parents reported her missing ten years ago. She turned up dead four years ago. Someone beat her to death and tossed her body out along Route 17. They carved the letter W into her cheek.”

Sundown grew still and silent. Not for the first time I wondered if his kind had racial memory and could remember those things done to their brethren in the Chal ancient past he refused to discuss with me. His people had been enslaved when they arrived on this world, and that’s all the Chal history I’d gotten out of him.

He drew in a quick, short breath and then blew it out.

“The Chal can help. We are able to go into places where you can not.”

For once, his people would be on my side. “The Elders will sanction that? Right. Tell me another story.”

“I was with the Elders yesterday, apologizing for my actions regarding Sergeant Mack. I have promised them—again—that I will cease to play Sasquatch tricks on him.”

“But did you promise not to play any tricks on him, period, or just the Bigfoot ones?”

He blinked at me, dismay written all over his face. Uh-huh. I had him now. “Chupacabra, perhaps?”

His mouth dropped open. His eyes widened. “That is not me! I’ve never been to Texas!”

Beneath Dark Stars
Gay romance with a paranormal shift available at:

Barnes and Noble/Nook

KC Kendricks