Earth has been invaded, their defenses disabled, the population left helpless. But it seems the only thing the aliens are demanding are spouses? When pretty boy soldier Noah Ashfield finds himself married off to a male alien he isn’t about to accept it without a fight- no matter how certain his husband, Jovi, is that they are perfect for each other!
Stuck-up rich boy Vane Allen wasn’t supposed to be at the ‘Choosing’ for spouses at all, but the overbearing Jeneran Brinald has plans for him anyway, as a liaison- if Brinald doesn’t kill or seduce him first!
It’s a battle of wills and colliding of worlds involving bondage, spanking, snarky pink-haired humans and grown brats who are too stubborn to know what’s good for them.
Sixteen hours, Brinald thought, groaning as he stood up for a moment and stretched out his body. He arched back, arms upraised and dark green hair gleaming with a nearly ebony sheen as it shimmied over his back. The clear gems embedded in his hair twinkled as he righted himself and walked over for a drink. He only had one more name on the list, but he just knew he was going to need something a bit more fortifying than water for this one.
If only it had been anyone else, he would have finished it already. The moment he’d seen Jovi’s name on the end of the list, however, he’d been unsettled. Depressed already, how was the man going to react when he found out he was required to take a bride in a day and a half?
Brinald already knew the answer: not well. It was the reason he’d decided to finish this off in the privacy of his own room instead of in communications like the others. Jovi was easy going for the most part, something Brinald had always envied, but when he blew his top? He made Brinald’s fury look like pastel fluff on the wind. What were the odds that this was something that might push him over the edge he seemed to be teetering on already? Grasping the most alcoholic mil he could find in his room’s cooler, Brinald settled himself back in his chair with an irritated flop.
This last name, and then he could sleep until it was time for him to go down to the choosings. Only Jovi to deal with. He took a long draught of mil, savoring the sour edge to it.
The Gods help him on this one.
Keying in the address for Jovi’s personal screen, Brinald waited for him to answer. His toes began tapping and he stilled them impatiently. After three delicate gongs, a bleary-eyed face filled the screen.
“Brinald? Dammit, do you know what time it is?” Jovi yawned loudly, trying to scowl at the same time.
“The official time is ‘too late for any shit,’ I believe,” Brinald felt weary to the cellular level, but still, he’d meant to be a little more relaxed than that. Damn, his lack of sleep was not helping right now. He took another quick drink. “Sorry. Seer business, Jovi.”
Brinald saw his friend’s body react like every other person he’d spoken to. A tense wariness took over the man’s face while he waited for the sword to fall.
“What is it?” Jovi asked. Brinald wished he could ignore the bags under Jovi’s eyes, or the tension around his lips.
“Lolen had a Seeing. You’re to be one of the peace-husbands,” he said quietly. Jovi blinked, and Brinald waited for the explosion.
Jovi was silent and still so long that Brinald began to wonder if he was having a breakdown.
“Jovi? I said you-“
“I heard you,” Jovi’s voice was rough, but his body remained frozen in the same position.
“Ah. Good.” Brinald cleared his throat. Jovi’s lack of movement wasn’t as nerve jangling as rage, but it was disturbing all the same. “You’ll…need to go to the San Francisco site. Your commander will have the details. All you need to do is show up and choose one of the human candidates for a trial marriage.”
There was finally a reaction as Jovi’s eyes narrowed. Brinald hurried before he lost the chance. Friend or no, Jovi could still manage to shake Brinald’s composure when the man blew his top, and it looked like it was almost that time.
“Male or female, there’s no Seer’s restrictions on that. And…” Brinald paused as he tried to figure out what his last bit of information might mean, before he passed it on. Most of the extra candidates today had received a message along with their orders. Assurances that this would help fill a void in someone’s life, or that one of the humans would be the perfect father to their child, or that they should listen to their inner-voice that had been urging to them to volunteer.
Jovi’s message was a bit more cryptic than most. It made no sense at all, in plain fact.
“I have plans of my own before we leave Earth,” Jovi finally interrupted Brinald’s thoughts with a firm, angry voice. “The only time I have is during the bride-choosing. And besides, I can’t marry right now. I still need to find…. There’s simply a mistake somewhere.”
“You know you don’t have a choice, Jovi, not with something like this.”
Jovi’s face darkened noticeably and Brinald began speaking as rapidly as he could without revealing that he was trying to outrun the upcoming rage.
“Seer Doneld added a personal note for you that he thought might help.” Too fast, he thought, restraining a wince.
Jovi was almost growling when he responded. “I doubt there is anything he could say that would-“
“Pink.” Brinald spit out the word with one sharp exhalation, and he stared as Jovi reacted. He didn’t think he’d ever seen that expression on his friend’s face before. Stunned disbelief? Shock? Desperation?
“I…take it that means something to you?”
“You’re sure that’s what he said? Pink?” Jovi asked quickly.
“It would be hard to misread it.” Brinald watched him closely, searching for the fury that had been there moments before. He couldn’t find it. Instead, Jovi’s eyes lost their focus, and Brinald was startled when he heard him- was that a moan?
“I’ll be there,” Jovi said hoarsely, and he cut the connection without another word.
I came to writing later in life; finishing school, getting married, and having kids before I finished my first romance. So I’m a relatively new fan of male/male erotica. It’s a bit embarrassing, really. How, in this age of computers, did I go so long without finding gay romance? It shouldn’t be possible. Here I am, a person who’s always enjoyed a bit of hero molestation by the male villain, so you’d think I would be the first to jump on the sexy bandwagon of gay romantic love. Sadly, that’s not my style at all. If you take away the tweedish erudition, my style is more reminiscent of the absent minded professor who suddenly realizes that he’s been walking around campus with his pants off. I’m a master of obliviousness. If you’re wondering what you’ll find in my stories, I prefer long, romantic fantasies with sex, a little angst, warm fuzzies, humor, and happy endings. Warm Fuzzy Porn? Fluffy Kink? Whatever you want to call it, my inner marshmallow thrives on this cotton-candy stuff like it’s a super-vitamin for the soul. So if a little fun and sex, and a mandatory happy ending, is what you’re in the mood for, come on over and enjoy the fluff-porn.