OH MAN AM I EXCITED ABOUT THIS NEXT POST! BELOW IS THE COVER, BLURB, EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT AND GIVEAWAY FOR ARMOR, A FIRSTS AND FOREVER SERIES NOVELLA BY ALEXA LAND DUE OUT NEXT FRIDAY! I KNOW I HAVE BEEN CHOMPING AT THE BIT FOR THIS ONE SO LET'S GET TO THE GOOD STUFF SHALL WE!
HOW YUMMY...UH I MEAN BEAUTIFUL IS THAT?? :p (FACE IT GUYS, DANTE IS, IN FACT YUMMY!!) NOW FOR THE BLURB!
Eighteen months ago, a mysterious arsonist set a fire intended to kill Dante Dombruso’s entire family. After a year and a half with no answers and no justice for his loved ones, the pressure’s getting to Dante as he searches desperately for clues and the trail grows ever colder.
When a lead finally surfaces, Dante’s husband Charlie insists on being a part of the chase, even though they could be barreling into a potentially lethal situation. Charlie’s not like Dante, who spent his life in organized crime. No way should someone that innocent be in the middle of what’s about to go down. And what will Charlie think of him if he watches Dante unleash his inner demons? But Charlie isn’t taking no for an answer.
Dante has always been his family’s armor, the thing that keeps them safe. But he feels he failed them the night of the fire, and now he’s driven to make things right. Whoever was behind the attack has to pay for what they did. And Dante needs to stop them before they strike again. Because next time, the Dombruso family might not make it out alive.
This Firsts and Forever Series novella is part MM love story, part thriller, and is approximately 34,000 words in length. It contains graphic sex and explicit language, and is intended for adults only.
THIS SOUNDS AMAZING RIGHT?? WAIT TILL YOU READ THE EXCERPT! HAHA NANA IS AT IT AGAIN! LET'S TAKE A LOOK:
Nana’s house came into view in just a couple minutes. The enormous Queen Anne Victorian was as subtle as my grandmother with its shimmering rainbow façade and matching rainbow stretch limo in the driveway. She was a rabid supporter of the LGBT community, which had started when I came out to her in my late teens. I’d known she’d be supportive, but I hadn’t expected her to take it to that level. In retrospect, I should have seen it coming. Nana never did anything halfway.
Her rainbow palace sported a new feature that evening, and Charlie chuckled and said, “Well, there’s your problem.” A pink, wooden sculpture of a huge cock jutted out the front door at a forty-five degree angle, making it look like the house had a hard-on. The thing had to be eight or nine feet long, and it was so wide that it filled the doorway.
We let ourselves in through the wrought iron gate and met Nana’s husband Ollie and a couple teenagers on the front walkway. I’d naïvely assumed when my grandmother remarried that her new husband would take over a lot of the problem-solving that routinely fell to me. Instead, he was as bad as Nana, so now there were two feisty senior troublemakers in the family, instead of one. “Thanks for coming, boys,” he said with a sheepish smile. Ollie was stocky and a foot shorter than me, and he was dressed in a tuxedo and a pointy, gold party hat. He reminded me of a cartoon character. “Stana was sure we could get that shlong to fit through the door. Turns out, we were overambitious.”
Charlie asked, “Where’d it come from?”
“We went to a fancy end-of-the-year fundraising dinner tonight for the LGBT community center where we volunteer. They were auctioning off artwork made by some of the young people who visit the center, but nobody was bidding on King Dong. You know your grandmother, Dante. She took pity on the artist and dropped a grand on that thing, so he’d feel encouraged and whatnot.”
I asked, “How’d you get it home?”
“The sculptor and his friend delivered it in a big truck. He’s inside with Stana. We came out here to push while they pulled,” Ollie explained.
I raised an eyebrow and said, “Because you thought it’d be nice in the living room?”
“We were gonna put it in the front yard, but of course the blowhard across the street immediately raised a fuss, so we thought we should bring it in before he absconded with it.” I grinned at the mental picture of Richard Huntington, the neighbor in question, trying to run down the street with that thing. He’d been a thorn in my grandmother’s side for years and was less than accepting about her various eccentricities. It was no wonder he’d had something to say about the giant junk. Ollie added, “I’m gonna go inside and see if I can do anything from there.” He hurried around the side of the house and disappeared through the gate.
I turned to the skinny, auburn-haired kid to my left and asked, “Are you here with the artist?” He was maybe eighteen or nineteen, had more freckles than I’d ever seen, and wore a green sweatshirt so baggy that it looked like four of him could fit in there.
The kid shook his head. “No man, I live here.”
I tried not to frown at that, but pretty thoroughly failed. My grandmother and a friend of hers were in the process of opening a shelter for homeless LGBT teens and young adults in a converted firehouse, but they were bogged down in a sea of paperwork. In the meantime, Nana had begun finding strangers on the street and bringing them home with her until the shelter could accommodate them. For some reason, I was the only person who saw a problem with that.
The other teen intervened at that point. That one I knew and liked. Darwin was dating my nephew Josh, and Nana had taken him in when she found out his family was less than accepting about the fact that he was transgender. Darwin said, “This is Emmet, Dante. Don’t worry, he’s a good guy.” Based on what, the fact that he’d gone two whole days without running off with Nana’s jewelry?
An excited yip came from inside the house, and we could hear my grandmother yelling at her dog, “No, Tom Selleck! Get off my dick!” I grinned at that, despite myself.
Darwin said, “That wooden willie is the canine equivalent of catnip. We tried to put Tommy in the backyard, but he almost knocked the door down so we had to let him back in. I have no idea why he’s acting like that.”
Rather than offer theories about the particular set of glitches hardwired into that mutt, Charlie and I climbed the stairs to the porch, and both of us stared at the phallus for a moment while trying to decide on the best course of action. The one good thing I could say about it was that the artist had gone for cartoonish rather than anatomically detailed. The latter would have just been nightmarish, Jack and the Beanstalk meets Lorena Bobbitt, and my God, why was I thinking about that?
I grabbed the pink prick and tried to shove it through the doorway, but the thing didn’t budge. Not even a little. Next, I tried pulling it out, but that didn’t work either. I got it in a headlock and tried to wrestle it out, which made Charlie chuckle and snap a picture with his phone. I hid my grin as I shot him a look.
My grandmother called, “I don’t know what happened! We were all tugging on it real good, and then it just got jammed up!”
I peered through the gap near the top of the doorway. Nana was wearing a pink, sequined gown and a rhinestone tiara. Beside her, a pair of long-haired, thoroughly confused-looking guys were engaged in a deep discussion about the peen predicament while one of them held the dog back by its collar. I interrupted them with, “Bill and Ted, one of you push on the base while I try to pull it out. It’s never going to fit through this doorway. I don’t even know how you got that much of it in.”
“Perseverance, dude.” That came from the blonder of the two, who handed the dog off on his companion, sat on the floor, and braced his sneakers against the base of the sculpture. “Alright, let’s do this thing!”
Charlie and Darwin joined me. All three of us wrapped our arms around it and pulled, and my husband said, “Who would have guessed we’d end up wrestling a monster cock this evening?”
“Nothing surprises me anymore,” I told him as I put my back into it.
When all of that proved totally unsuccessful, the three of us straightened up, and Charlie looked at me and said, “You know what this needs, right?”
“Lube.” He and I said it in unison.
“Hang on,” my grandmother called. “I’ve got just the stuff!”
“Of course she does,” I muttered under my breath.
She hurried out of the foyer and returned a minute later with a huge bottle of anal lube, which she shoved through the gap at the top of the doorway. I started to ask, “Nana, why do you have.…” But then I decided I didn’t want to know, and said, “Never mind.”
She answered me anyway. “It was on sale! I went to the sex shop to pick up a case of rubbers for the boys, and I couldn’t pass up a bargain!”
Darwin muttered, “Don’t look at me.”
“Nana keeps a big bowl of condoms on the desk at the LGBT community center where she volunteers,” Emmet explained. “She also stuffs them in my jacket pocket whenever I tell her I’m going out. I mean, it’s nice she’s concerned, but come on. Do I really look like Studly McScoresalot?” The kid colored under his freckles.
I opened the lube and drizzled some on both sides of the doorframe, and Charlie said, “That’s just dripping off. You’re going to need to work it into the crack.” When I glanced at him, he grinned.
Sadly, he wasn’t wrong. I handed Charlie the bottle and pulled off my overcoat, because cheap lube and Italian wool were a terrible combination. I then tossed the coat over the porch railing and pushed up the sleeves of my sweater.
When I turned to face Emmet, the kid looked stricken. He took a step back from me, his wide, green eyes locked on the gun at my side. I held my hands up, trying to seem nonthreatening as I explained, “I have a permit to carry concealed.”
“Dude, I don’t care about the paperwork,” he stammered. “Why the hell are you carrying a gun?”
HAHA, NOW THAT'S A 'DICKY' SITUATION (SORRY SORRY, THAT WAS BAD, MOVING ON!) I KNOW YOU GUYS CAN'T WAIT FOR THIS BOOK, BUT THANK GOODNESS YOU WON'T HAVE TO WAIT LONG AS THE BOOK IS OUT NEXT FRIDAY!
BE SURE TO COMMENT ON THIS BLOG POST TO GET IN THE RUNNING FOR A $25.00 AMAZON GIFT CARD! THE WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RANDOM DRAWING ON MONDAY THE 13TH! GOOD LUCK GUYS AND THANKS FOR STOPPING BY!
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