Happy
Sunday! I have another new release that I am featuring today – and
another giveaway. Read on for news about my dystopian scifi MM
romance The H-Gene, first book in what (I hope) will be a series
called After the Plague.
I’m
giving away an ebook copy of the book to one lucky reader who leaves
a comment with his or her email address.
Below
you’ll find the blurb and an exclusive excerpt. The excerpt is PG,
but the book itself is definitely five flames – explicit gay
romance with a HFN ending.
Blurb
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?
Note:
This novel was previously released by Pride Publishing under the
title Quarantine. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.
Exclusive
Excerpt (PG)
He
halted outside the second gate, across from the raised bridge. He was
more than twenty feet from the moat, but the rotten egg stench still
assaulted his senses. There was no way Dylan could have made it
across that hellish river. The guy must be here somewhere, between
the outer fence and that stinking pit of poison.
And
when I find him? Rafe couldn’t help asking himself. Then
what? If I don’t bring him back, I’m pretty much signing my own
death warrant.
He
pushed the thought away. Turning left, he began a slow circle around
the camp. As in the inmate precinct, there were no trees, just the
occasional boulder making long shadows in the setting sun.
Rafe
examined each unlikely hiding place, searching without success for
Dylan or any sign that he’d been there. Concrete towers at each
corner of the fence supported spotlights and housed the transformers
that fed current to the steel mesh. No one crouched in the angles
between these buildings and the barrier. The maintenance entrances
were all inside the fence, so Dylan couldn’t be hiding inside the
cement boxes.
Where
the fuck are you, Dylan? Give me some clue.
It
took Rafe more than an hour to make his way around the eight-mile
perimeter and back to the bridge. By then the sky overhead had turned
azure, while red and orange clouds striped the western horizon. He
stared again at the steel webbing arching over the moat. Could Dylan
have somehow figured out how to lower the pivoting segment to cross
over, then raise it again?
Considering
all the amazing technical feats the inmate had managed inside,
nothing was impossible.
He
inserted a pair of nose plugs fished from his jacket pocket, then
approached the bridge control box. When he touched his left and right
index fingers to the sensor panels, the compartment swung open. There
was no sign of tampering. He pressed the “Down” button. The
hinged section squealed slightly as it swung down and locked into
place.
Rafe
sucked in a deep breath and squeezed the trike accelerator. The
vehicle sped up the ramp, across the temporary span, and down the
other side. Remembering his training, still holding his breath, he
activated the “Up” button from the matching control box on the
far end of the bridge. The moving segment flipped back to the open
position.
He
brought the cycle to a stop some thirty feet beyond the moat and let
his lungs empty. He stared back at the ugly bulk of Malheur Camp. The
floodlights came on, bathing the ground around the fence in a sickly
yellow glare. The barren soil where he stood, outside the range of
the lights, was still a featureless gray. Evening deepened as Rafe
perched there on the trike, trying to figure out what to do next.
If
Dylan had made it past the moat, he’d be on foot. Rafe could easily
catch him on the cycle, but only if he knew which direction the boy
had taken. Dylan was probably too smart to keep to the road. On the
other hand, he’d said he was headed for the city. Rafe guessed he
meant Sanfran. Ellay was too far away and, since the eruption of
2024, nobody really considered Portland a city anymore.
Southwest,
then. If he wanted to find the boy, that’s the way he should head.
But maybe he should give up, go back to the camp and admit that
they’d all been outsmarted. The Guardians would probably discipline
both him and Turk, but what could the higher-ups do, really? Fire
them for incompetence?
Rafe
gave a bitter laugh. As the sound died away, he thought he heard
something else—something like a moan, barely audible but definitely
human.
He
listened carefully to the quiet night. There it was again—a soft
sound of someone in agony, coming from near the bridge.
Dylan!
Rafe scrambled off the trike and headed towards the sound, holding
his breath once again.
He
scanned the bank. There! By the edge of the moat, in the shadow of
the criss-crossed girders, there was something that looked like a
pile of rags. He inched closer, trying to ignore the sting as the
toxic vapors attacked his skin. The bundle of cloth stirred and
coughed. Rafe rushed over, crouched down and turned the body onto its
back. Then he gasped and choked himself as noxious fumes rushed into
his throat.
Dylan’s
cheeks and brow were peppered with oozing sores. His eyes were
swollen shut. His thick tongue protruded between cracked lips. His
fingers twitched feebly.
Rafe
half dragged, half carried the younger man away from the river of
poison. He stretched the limp body out on the ground, shielded by the
trike. “Dylan!” he cried, as the fresher air filled his chest.
“It’s me, baby. Oh, God, Dylan!”
Dylan
coughed and sputtered. Greenish spittle trickled from his mouth.
“Breathe,
kid. Breathe!”
Dylan
seemed to hear. His raw lips moved, as though he wanted to say
something.
Rafe
needed water, to wash the man’s wounds and clean away the chemical
residue. He needed antibacterial salve and collagen strips and enzyme
patches to stimulate healing. Not to mention an oxygen tank to force
the poison out of Dylan’s lungs.
That
meant civilization, or what passed for it here in the wastelands of
Oregon. The closest settlements, though, were at least two hundred
miles away.
Rafe
lifted Dylan’s body once more and settled it on the seat of the
trike. Dylan slumped against the windscreen. Rafe mounted the bike
behind the inmate, slipping one arm around his waist for support
while steering with the other.
“Rafe?”
Dylan’s voice was weak but intelligible. He raised his head then
let it flop back on to Rafe’s chest.
“Yeah,
it’s me. Just relax, boy. Hang on. I’m going to get you some
help.” Rafe started the cycle and turned it towards the ribbon of
crumbling asphalt that stretched westward.
The
other man leaned against Rafe’s body. “Mmm,” he murmured.
“Good.”
Strangely
enough, it was good. Despite his worry about Dylan, Rafe felt a kind
of contentment as they raced off into the night. The wind was fresh
and cool in his face. The motor hummed between his thighs. Dylan’s
weight was a welcome reminder that, for once, Rafe was not alone.
The
cycle ate up the miles. Dylan slept, curled against him. Inside
Rafe’s chest, a quiet joy took root and grew stronger. For the
first time in years, Rafe felt free.
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