I'm superstitious about sharing unedited excerpts from upcoming work. However, yesterday I sent my editor the updated manuscript for my M/M scifi romance novel coming in July, Quarantine. I noticed as I was working my way through the book, reviewing the editor's changes, that it contains a lot of sexy snogs! So I'm posting one for you today – along with the cover, which I just received and which I absolutely adore!
Don't forget to visit Victoria Blisse at Snog Central for lots more sizzling, sensual lip action.
Blurb for Quarantine
Love is contagious.
Dylan Moore will do anything for freedom. Seven years ago, a gay plague spread to heterosexuals, killing millions and sparking brutal anti-gay riots. The Guardians rounded up men who tested positive for the homogene and imprisoned them in remote quarantine centers like desolate Camp Malheur. Since then, Dylan has hacked the camp's security systems and hoarded spare bits of electronics, seeking some way to escape. He has concluded the human guards are the only weakness in the facility's defenses.
Camp guard Rafe Cowell is H-negative. He figures the lust he feels watching prisoner 3218 masturbate on the surveillance cameras must be due to his loneliness and isolation. When he finally meets the young queer, he discovers that Dylan is brilliant, brave, sexy as hell – and claims to be in love with Rafe. Despite his qualms, Rafe finds he can't resist the other man's charm. By the time Dylan asks for his help in escaping, Rafe cares too much for Dylan to refuse.
Dylan's plan goes awry and Rafe comes to his rescue. Soon they're both fugitives, fleeing from militant survivalists, murderous androids, homophobic ideologues and a powerful man who wants Dylan as his sexual toy. Hiding in the Plague-ravaged city of Sanfran, Dylan and Rafe learn there's far more than their own safety at stake. Can they help prevent the deaths of millions more people? And can Rafe trust the love of a man who deliberately seduced him in order to escape from quarantine?
Rafe had already been snoring when Dylan came upstairs, his head pounding, numbers and symbols dancing in his brain. The black man’s features were twisted into a scowl. Even in sleep, his fists clenched. Dylan had brushed his lips across his lover’s brow and stroked the incipient beard. Rafe didn’t wake, but his tense features relaxed somewhat and he breathed more deeply. Although Dylan’s body had cried out for comfort, he didn’t want to be selfish. He’d stripped and taken his place next to the ex-guard, careful not to disturb him.
Poor guy has endured a lot for my sake. Dylan shook his head. The camp had accustomed him to the constant fight for survival. He’d realised long ago that carrying the homogene marked him for an early death, one way or another, and that his intellect was his only defence. Rafe, though… Sure, he’d been in a gang, but there was something innocent and vulnerable about the man nevertheless. He wasn’t used to being hunted the way Dylan was.
A Guardian armoured vehicle rumbled past, sweeping its spotlight across the battered facades on either side of the street. Dylan pulled back, away from the window, though with the room unlit it was unlikely they could detect his presence.
Will we ever have a peaceful time together, without this constant fear? Dylan recalled his months with Miguel before the Plague hit, the glorious freedom to finally be himself, the joy they’d found in each other’s arms. It seemed like a long-ago dream now—one that belonged to someone else. Would he and Rafe ever experience anything like that?
“Dylan, baby?” Rafe’s groggy voice pulled him back to the present. “I missed you.”
Dylan turned his back on the window. “I didn’t want to wake you. It was after midnight by the time we finished.”
He hoisted himself onto the tall four-poster and pressed his body against Rafe. His lover still wore an undershirt and briefs. Dylan slid his hands under the shirt, across Rafe’s warm, smooth belly to the furry swell of his pecs. When he flicked the nipples with his thumbs, Rafe moaned.
“I missed you too,” Dylan added, pushing up the fabric so he could duck down to purse his lips around one of the tight little nubs.
“Oh…oh, fuck, that’s good!” Rafe reached around to grip Dylan’s butt. He rubbed his stiffening cock against Dylan’s stomach. “C’mere, boy.” He hauled Dylan up until they were face to face, then seized him by the back of the head and mashed their lips together.
Dylan opened to Rafe’s probing tongue, letting the other man take the lead. Rafe was like a starving man presented with a feast. He devoured Dylan’s mouth with a ferocity that sent stabs of pleasure straight to Dylan’s groin. A taste of copper mingled with the mint of Rafe’s toothpaste as the ex-guard’s teeth tore into Dylan’s lip. Lust crashed like lightning through Dylan’s body.
“Oh, God…” he breathed into the hot mouth sealed to his. “Oh, Rafe…”
He clutched at the stretchy material of Rafe’s shorts, seeking the hard flesh underneath. The briefs clung to Rafe’s ass, defeating Dylan’s attempts to remove or push them aside. Rafe dragged him closer, grinding Dylan’s cock against his own clothing-sheathed erection. Dylan groaned in frustration.
“Get these damn things off,” he gasped, breaking the kiss. “Please—I need to feel your skin on mine.”