Cupid is out and he’s proud! #valentinesday anthology #GLBTQ #lesbian #bi #gay

Love is a mess cover

Love is a Mess: a Supposed Crimes anthology

Edited by C. E. Case

Stories by A. M. Leibowitz, Adrian J. Smith, Amber Kinsey, Eva Lefoy, Geonn Cannon, L. M. Perrin, Michael DuPuy and Rachael Orman.

 

Lesbian, Bisexual and Gay anthology, Valentine’s Day theme, romance, contemporary

 

Publisher: Supposed Crimes, LLC
Release Date: January 3, 2015 (ebook only)
Length: Anthology / 35,000 words / 119 pages

 

 

Lesbian

Viral Valentine by L. M. Perrin
Date Blind by Geonn Cannon
The Politician and the Pilot by Amber Kinsey
Bar Tryst by Rachael Orman

Bisexual

Quarter Life: Energy Feed by Adrian J. Smith

Gay

Property of Cupid by Eva Lefoy
Private Dance by A. M. Leibowitz
The Last Mitzvah by Michael DuPuy

 

 

muscular gay male in a black angel costume.

He’s got his arrows – but who is the target?

 

Property of Cupid:

 

The night before Valentine’s Day, Greek god Eros must find a virginal sacrifice to calm his inner demon before he turns into the happy-go-lucky, arrow wielding cherub, Cupid. When he finds the perfect victim alone in the gay bar, the raw sensuality between them sizzles and Eros wants more. Unfortunately he’s got to play Roman god Cupid for the next twenty-four hours and to his horror there’s an arrow in the quiver with Jeremy’s name on it.

 

Jeremy goes home with the feather-clad stranger and is relieved to finally lose his v-card. But the next morning he gets the shock of his life. The tables are turned and he’s no longer the desperate lonely bottom, but the sexy hottie every top wants. While shaking his bootie for a free coffee, he hears a blood curdling scream…

 

Will an ancient Greek god give up half his powers to love a mere human? Or will Cupid loose his golden arrow, letting Jeremy fall in love with another man?

Excerpt:

Jeremy closed his eyes against the bright lights and steeled his nerves against the relentless bass filling the room. He never got out on the dance floor much, preferring the relative quiet of the bar where he could drool over the hot guys who never paid him any attention. Until tonight.

The man relentlessly rubbing his erection against his ass had to be the sexiest top he’d ever seen. Never mind that he was dressed in some weird costume a day early – Valentine’s Day wasn’t until tomorrow – or that he might be trying to get Jeremy drunk, the man had every pair of eyes locked on him the instant he walked into the bar and right now he was dancing with him. Alone.

He didn’t protest when the man slid his jacket down his arms and tossed it aside. The booze was working its magic and relaxing him, probably what the guy intended. He felt warm and lush, surrounded by a room full of sexed-up guys aching to come. The sting of testosterone filled his nose, making him dizzy. He let the guy’s hands roam down his body, reach under his waistband and tug his shirt up. In seconds it was over his head, tossed into the corner on the floor by his jacket. Flush with the excitement of being wanted, Jeremy reached behind him, grabbed the guy’s tight hard ass and rocked his hips, encouraging the hard-on behind him to swell further. A hiss sounded in his ear and he savored the heat of the man’s breath. Lord, this felt good.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” the man behind him groaned. “I can’t believe nobody has shown you how hot you really are.”

His cock leaked, his entire body flushed warm by the words. Nobody had ever called him beautiful before. Nobody had even bothered to notice him.

The man’s hands kept roaming, reaching below his waistband to cup his balls, the other one pinching a nipple. Halfway to coming all over himself on the dance floor, the man whispered in his ear.

“What’s your address? Where do you live?” They bumped and ground some more, until Jeremy was breathless. “Or, just think about your place. Picture it and I’ll take us there.”

Far too turned on to talk, he fantasized about having the guy on his bed in his shabby apartment. Pictured them both hot and sweaty, arms and legs tangled as they worked their pants off. Or in the case of Mr. Mysterious, his feathered outfit. The next thing he knew, the music had stopped. He opened his eyes.

“Is this it?”

His apartment? “Yeah.” But how had they gotten here? He rubbed his head. Hell, I must be drunker than I thought. I don’t even remember the cab ride.

“Good. Now, let’s get this party started.”

 

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Author Bio and Contact:

 

Eva Lefoy writes and reads all kinds of romance, and is a certified Trekkie. She’s also terribly addicted to chocolate, tea, and hiking. One of these days, she’ll figure out the meaning of life, quit her job, and go travel the galaxy. Until then, she’s writing down all her dirty thoughts for the sake of future explorers.

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