Elin Gregory

It’s Tuesday – or Tiw’s Day which is worth celebrating because Tiw, Anglo-Saxon god of ass-kicking, was the only one in the pantheon with the brass bound cojones to put his hand in the mouth of the Fenris Wolf. Commonly known as Lefty, Tiw was an all round hero, and we like heroes, don’t we.

Someone with a more than passing acquaintance with heroes is Amy Lane my guest today in celebration of the Foolish Encounters Anthology, which will be available tomorrow from Wilde City Press. Please stick around to read the excerpt and comment for a chance to win a prize.

Hi Amy, thanks for answering my questions. Could you tell me a little about your story in the anthology?

This is just a short– it’s the beginning of what could be a beautiful relationship, featuring a curious, upbeat delivery guy and a computer programmer who has been working from home just a little bit too long.

Could you please tell me about your other work?

I have got a long catalog! What’s important to remember is that this story fits in with my happy, lighter work– If I Must, Turkey in the Snow, Christmas With Danny Fit, and DoOver. It’s happy, sexy, and flirty– and I don’t do that with no strings attached very often, so it’s pretty special.

What are you working on at the moment?

The second half of the fifth (or is it eighth?) book in an epic urban fantasy m/m/f menage series that I started ten years ago.

Please could we have an excerpt?

Green hovered in the air and watched as the last batch of werewolves went sailing to the lake. They had not, as Cory suggested, combined forces and set their penises on fire while making them bleed out the asshole. (She’d been particularly cranky, and he couldn’t blame her, but still… bloodthirsty, his beloved, oh yes she was.)
But he knew the time was nearing when they had to take definitive action. They could not continue to live under siege when they were so close to having the means to defeat this enemy—one way or another.

Nicky touched down on one of the oak trees and changed form, sitting on the branch with his bare feet dangling beneath him. “Have you noticed,” he asked musingly, “that they don’t visit when the vampires are here?”
Green looked up and smiled at him, at his playfulness and his helpfulness, and his desire to be whatever they needed of him.

“I have,” he said smiling back. “I think they’re afraid.”

“Well, they should be. As far as they know, all of our vampires belch power and cook RV’s.” Nicky executed a cherry drop, landing at Green’s feet, and Green was so charmed he wrapped his arms around Nicky’s shoulder and placed a series of tickle kisses on his neck. Nicky laughed and turned into his embrace, standing on his toes so they could kiss in earnest, and Green closed his eyes to savor. Oh yes—Nicky was a blessing. He loved them all, and all he wanted from any of them was to be loved in return. He didn’t have the depth or complexity of Cory or Bracken—but Green had the feeling he’d made his peace with that. He was content to be simple, to give them affection, to take it as it was offered, and to take joy from every small moment.

Green would celebrate a lover like that to the moon and back. Nicky Kestrel was not the love of a life that spanned two millennia, but he was absolutely a lover for now—and now Green needed what Cory had needed: to, just for a moment, forget the depth of his fear for the people he loved.

Nicky opened his mouth under Green’s kiss, and Green fell into it happily. Who could know three years ago? The timid, slightly phobic young man who had been tragically forced into Green’s bed had turned into a sensual, happy lover. Green pushed the kiss, backing Nicky into the tree behind him, and Green ran his hands from Nicky’s neck down the outside of his arms, and then circled his slim hips with his long-fingered hands.

Nicky bucked against him, aroused almost instantly, and Green chuckled against his neck.

“Goddess, that’s good. What was that for?” Nicky gasped.

“Suddenly very much in love with you, lad—is that a problem?”

Nicky smiled sunnily. “I am so horny. Can we do something about that? You and me? Hell, throw in Bracken and Cory and my day is complete. Can we? Huh?”

Green nodded and continued to nibble on that flushed, pale neck.

Author Bio:

Amy Lane has two kids in college, two gradeschoolers in soccer, two cats, and two Chi-who-whats at large. She lives in a crumbling crapmansion with most of the children and a bemused spouse. She also has too damned much yarn, a penchant for action adventure movies, and a need to know that somewhere in all the pain is a story of Wuv, Twu Wuv, which she continues to believe in to this day! She writes fantasy, urban fantasy, and m/m romance–and if you accidentally make eye contact, she’ll bore you to tears with why those three genres go together. She’ll also tell you that sacrifices, large and small, are worth the urge to write.

Links:>
website: http://www.greenshill.com
blog: http://www.writerslane.blogspot.com
Twitter: @amymaclane
FB: https://www.facebook.com/amy.lane.167
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