When I wrote Toys for Boys, I had already been playing around with placing myself in the story as writer, as scribe. Because I’d walked the Wainwright Coast to Coast, and because I remembered those days when all I wanted at the end of the day was to be warm and dry and asleep in my bed, I already had common ground with Doc and Will and their trials. Writers are always voyeurs to some extent. Certainly we’re always people watchers. And quite often we feel like we’re doing little more than reporting our characters’ stories as they whisper them in our ear. When that happens, it’s always amazing, the unexpected directions a story can take.
I wanted to bring that experience of the characters telling their story to the forefront of Toys for Boys and make it a literal part of the story – sort of share with the reader what we writers experience with our characters on a daily basis. I was very lucky because Will and Doc were more than happy to share.
*****
High tech meets low tech in a wilderness adventure that sizzles.
Toys for Boys Blurb:
Alpha nerd Will Charles teams up with Caridoc ‘Doc’ Jones in a coast to coast walk across England reviewing outdoor gift suggestions for the Christmas edition of Toys for Boys—an online magazine dedicated to the latest gadgets to tickle a man’s fancy. Will is recording their adventures with the latest smart phone technology. Doc is reviewing the latest outdoor gear. The two quickly discover the great outdoors provides even better toys for boys, toys best shared al fresco, toys that, in spite of Will’s great camera work, will never be reviewed in Toys for Boys.
Note: Toys for Boys has been previously published as part of the Brit Boys: With Toys boxed set.
Buy Toys for Boys Here:
Universal Amazon link: http://mybook.to/toysforboys
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2jPjrN2
iBooks: http://apple.co/2jpYvxK
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2kbYbQa
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2kmFbRg
*****
Excerpt:
In that drowsy disconnected place between sleep and wakefulness, Doc was aware of only two things; the warm, hard body he held against his chest in a spoon position, and the fact that his hard-on was pressed up nice and tight between the pillowed muscles of two firm arse cheeks, Will fucking Charles’ arse cheeks and, damn if he wasn’t shifting and shoving against the bloke like some horny dog.
Suddenly he was wide awake as the events of the past day came flooding back to him. He stopped moving, stopped breathing, feeling the beat of his heart in the leaden weight of his balls. He lay with one arm folded beneath his head like a plucked chicken wing, and just as goose bumped for being outside the warmth of the sleeping bag. He held Will secure against his body with the other arm, which curved low over Will’s hip, low enough that he could cup the man’s sac in his palm. The soft tickle of pubic curls against his fingertips assured him, to his horror, that was exactly what he was doing.
Before he could withdraw from the bloke’s personal space, Will fucking Charles shifted slightly and Doc not only found his erection pressed even tighter between clenching buttocks, but the man’s cock was suddenly in full contact with his groping hand, too hard, too warm and silky smooth for him to ignore. Before he could make a conscious decision of what to do, Will made the choice for him, moaning in some dream, which Doc could only imagine was partly responsible for the urgency of the bloke’s hard-on. He shifted again and curled his fingers, vice-grip tight around Doc’s, effectively securing his clench on his penis, demonstrating how he liked to be touched, then he began to thrust with purpose in and out of Doc’s hand.
Fucking hell! Doc was not about to take advantage of a sleeping man, no matter how tempting. He held his breath, held dead still, which took a gargantuan amount of concentration, the ache in his own cock at least as urgent. He’d never be able to explain the situation to Will if he woke up like this. It was taking advantage. His thoughts flashed on the shivering, nearly incoherent, man he’d held to him last night, praying to all the gods of the great outdoors that his body heat would bring the man’s temperature up. And just when he was about run the risk of embarrassing both of them by waking Will, the bloke once again took the choice out of his hands, quite literally, by moving his own hand down to cup his cock himself.
Doc jerked away a little more quickly than he intended. Will caught his breath and thrust back against Doc’s aching load, and that was it. Doc was scrambling out of the sleeping bag, battling with the zip to the tent, holding on with all the self-control he had.
“You all right?” Will’s sleepy voice called after him as he shoved his way out of the tent.
“Gotta pee,” he managed, which was the truth, but nothing was going to happen until he took care of more urgent needs. He managed half a dozen steps, tripped over a tree root and went down on one knee in the wet leaf litter.
“Fuck me!” he heard Will gasp from behind him. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if he suddenly found himself on a stage in the West End amid a line of dancing girls doing the can-can for a packed house. Urgent had become critical and there was nothing to do but hold on for dear life and let nature take its course. Jerking at his cock with a choke hold—one thrust, two, and three, and his whole body tightened and convulsed. Vesuvius erupted. And kept erupting until he feared the effort would turn him inside out. Even as the chill of morning bathed his back in goose flesh, the front of his body still held the heat, the muscle memory of clenching Will tight against him.
“Fuck me sideways!”
Breathing like a hurricane, Doc fell back on his arse in the wet grass and looked up to see Will fucking Charles standing bare arsed in front of the tent having his own eruption in one hand while the other aimed the goddamned urBrain at Doc.
When Will had finished shooting his wad, he knelt and wiped his hand on the wet grass. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he managed, still struggling to breathe. His eyes were bright with mischief, and his lips parted in just such a way that Doc had a sudden urge to bite the bottom one before he covered that mouth with his own. That desire was quickly superseded, however, by the urge to throttle the bastard.
“I should have left you outside to freeze your balls off last night.” Doc forced his way to his feet.
“Oh God, you have to see this, mate.” Will was already watching the playback.
“Fuck you, William! This isn’t over.” As an afterthought, he reached out and viciously pinched the man’s nipple, which was chilled to a hard peak from the slight morning breeze. The catch of breath and the little hiss of pain caused his cock to surge again. “This isn’t over, you bastard.”
“I’m counting on it!” Will called after him.
He headed down to the stream to clean up. “And if you point that thing at me again, I’ll make you eat it.”
“If you’re talking about urBrain, well I suppose I could try. I’m pretty good at opening my throat. But if you’re talking about this,” he reached down and waved his cock in a rude gesture. “Afraid I’m gonna have to rely on you for that.”
Fucking hell, if the man kept it up, Doc was gonna need another wank before they even got to breakfast.
He caught a hint of hearty laughter before he stepped into the icy stream, and in spite of the awkward wake-up call, he found himself smiling too. The man had thrown down the gauntlet and then given him permission to play. This walk was really looking up.
*****
About K D Grace/Grace Marshall
Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology. She enjoys spending time in the gym – right now she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. She loves to read, watch birds and do anything that gets her outdoors.
KD has erotica published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.
Find K D Here:
Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/
http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/
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Graeme raised his eyebrows. “I’m an editor, not a dictator. But come on, Gloria, do me a favour here. Like I said, there’s no one else to take his place—you’re the only one with time in your schedule. If I’m not mistaken, the stuff you’re currently working on isn’t time-sensitive. Sunday’s race, however, is.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk, then flashed her a smile. “We’ll even put you up in a nice hotel, right near to the track. One little article, Gloria. You’ll be saving my life. Please.”
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