I love a delicious fetish. Something fun, sexy and um, all kinds of naughty. I’d read any hot fetish and I’d always wanted to incorporate it in my own writing. When time came for me to brainstorm ideas for A Sinner Born, Book three in my Brooklyn Sinners series with Ellora’s Cave, I had just the thing. And I knew just who would have that particular kink.
Syren Rua was introduced in book one of the series. Readers have only seen one side to him, the sexy, flirty side. Beneath his delicate, gorgeous features and custom-made suits, our tortured Syren likes his girly drawers. I loved that. Loved how he embraced it, didn’t shy from it. It’s all a part of who he is and he lets his lover know if he can’t accept that part of Syren, they wouldn’t be getting on at all.
His love of women’s underwear isn’t one Syren broadcasts, obviously, but in the circles he runs, with the men he deals with; drug runners, gun dealers and sex traffickers, there’s added pressure. No way can he let that kind of information slip. Yes, in that environment, he keeps his secret safe, but in the home of the man he loves, the man he’s wanted for so long, he leaves it all on the kitchen floor. He’s taking a chance, showing himself to Kane, being as vulnerable as he is with him. Only one other time did Syren feel safe enough to do it, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. He’s afraid of Kane’s reaction, afraid to think his would-be lover would accept that part of him, that part of Syren so much at odds with who he should be, the image he projects.
Something tells me Kane is gonna surprise Syren.
A Sinner Born
Book three in the Brooklyn Sinners series.
One man buried in secrets. Another still grieving the love he lost. Their worlds collide in a battle between memories, old and new, while trust hangs by a fragile thread.
Syren Rua is at war. He battles painful childhood demons and his intense need for the first person who makes him feel. As Faro, Syren makes deals with the worst while taking the steps necessary to bring his family’s killer to justice. He isn’t one to indulge in selfish needs, but he’ll make the time in this instance. Syren has been watching Kane Ashby, craving the grieving man for his own. He’s always stayed away from temptation, but that’s about to change.
Kane isn’t over the death of his long-time partner. He’s certainly not ready for a relationship, sexual or otherwise, but Syren isn’t a man who takes no for an answer. The unpredictable Syren offers nothing but secrets and brings with him memories so dark, they could wipe out any chance the two might ever have. Syren brings Kane’s heart back to life. But it is also Syren who could inflict the most damage.
Inside Scoop: One of our heroes has a panty fetish. And it’s hot. This book also contains brief references to rape and child abuse.
A Romantica® gay/lesbian erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
“I like wearing women’s underwear.” He spoke the words in one endless breath. “I wear panties, have since I was eighteen. That is who I am, all of me. I want to share myself with you, but you have to let me know—” He gave up trying to make his voice stop wobbling. “You have to let me know now if you can’t handle it. Please.” The idea of a rejection wasn’t fun, Kane turning from the sight of him would cut him to the quick, but he needed to deal with it now and put it to bed.
Kane’s expression hadn’t changed one bit. “Did someone reject you before, because of your…preference?”
“I was twenty-one.” Syren shrugged. “I had the stupid notion I could simply be myself.” That particular memory didn’t hurt as much as it once did. “He laughed and pointed, and that’s after letting me know he wasn’t interested in boys trying to be girls. I knew after that to keep my secret, this secret to myself.” Not that he’d had anyone to keep it from except Delatorre. Lovers, he’d had none.
Kane’s jaw tightened with each word he spoke, the anger in his eyes on Syren’s behalf sparking irrational hope that Syren pushed down.
“I have to admit I’ve never given it a thought until the other day.” Kane’s lips curved. “When I felt it on your skin, when I caught a glimpse under your clothes. I can’t stop thinking about seeing you in them and nothing else.”
Syren blinked. Twice.
“Do you always wear them?” Kane asked.
“Except when I go to business meetings or meet with Delatorre.” Syren searched his face for any clue as to what Kane was thinking, but he got nothing.
Syren gaped at him. “What?”
“You heard me.” Kane’s nostrils flared. “Don’t make me come over there and tear off that fucking suit.”
Jesus H. Syren’s fingers trembled as he fingered a button on his shirt. “Kane.”
“You look so put together, neat and tidy in that suit,” Kane spoke softly. “I bet it costs a pretty penny, all expensive. It’s like fucking armor and I want to rip it off, get you dirtied up.”
Syren exhaled loudly and shrugged out of the shirt. He dropped it on the countertop.
He unbuckled his belt with shaky fingers, the fluttering in his stomach getting more and more pronounced. The moment of truth. He never thought it would happen, but he suddenly wished to be anywhere else but there, undressing for Kane. He’d be the first man, the first to see Syren naked in so long. Naked, from head to toe.
The pressure in his chest grew and grew, hindering his breathing. He didn’t look down at himself as he stepped out of the pants and kicked them away. He knew what he looked like; smooth, pale skin, lanky limbs, the scars on both hips and back and the panties. They were a pair from the most recent purchase Isa made for him, black, flirty boy shorts in allover lace, decorated with tiny golden butterflies. They hugged his body and rode low on his hips, rising just over the crack of his ass and cupping him gently in the front. He loved it, the look and feel of those pretty things on his skin.
He cleared his throat, trying to find a way to vocalize what he felt. “I feel desirable and untouchable when I wear them,” he whispered. “No one knows what’s under my clothes but me and yet I feel powerful and in control.”
Kane’s eyes gleamed. “Do you want to know what I see?”
Syren shied away from meeting his eyes and bit his lip. “Yes.”
“Then look at me.”
He did. Something blazed bright in the depths of Kane’s blue eyes, something that would’ve made a lesser man bawl, but he was made of tougher stuff so he only sniffled.
Those words touched him in that cold prison where his heart resided, melting the ice bars holding him caged. Syren’s head spun and he gulped in a lungful of air, only then realizing he’d been holding his breath, waiting for the hammer of rejection to come down.
A Caribbean transplant, Avril now lives in Brooklyn, N.Y with a tolerant spousal equivalent. Together they raise an eccentric daughter who loves reading and school (not so much school anymore). Avril’s earliest memories of reading revolve around discussing the plot points of Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys with an equally book-minded mother.
Always in love with the written word, Avril finally decided to do the writing in August of ’09 and never looked back. Spicy love scenes, delicious heroes, and wicked women burn up the pages of Avril’s stories, but there’ll always be a happy ending; Av remains a believer of love in all its forms.Addicted to cake, the ID Channel and the UFC, Avril writes Erotic and GLBT Romance for Ellora's Cave, Evernight Publishing, eXtasy Books, Secret Cravings Publishing and Total-e-Bound.
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