2 Cents Blog and Review

Saturday, December 31, 2011

Getting ready for 2012

Greetings Loved Ones!

Getting ready for 2012, so I thought I'd leave you with a few of my favorite inspiration pics of 2011 and wish everyone a Happy New Year! I hope you enjoy these gorgeous men as much as I do!

 I hope you've enjoyed this inspirational walk down memory lane. I'm sure there will be many more beautiful hot gorgeous men in 2012.

Wishing you Love and Butterflies AND a HAPPY NEW YEAR,
Sui Lynn~~

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Nico's Fire - Elements of Love 2

Greetings Loved Ones,

I just wanted to take a moment to let all of you know who are waiting with baited breath, that I've finished book 2 of the Elements of Love series. Nico's Fire is completed and I am expecting it to release in May of 2012, with Silver Publishing.
Nico's Fire has been a trial to write, but I've enjoyed every minute of it. I think you will too.  I'll update you again as we get closer to it's release. Until then...

Wishing you Love and Butterflies,
Sui Lynn~~

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Silver Flash - Hand of Death 3

Greetings Loved Ones!
It's time for another weekly Silver Flash! This week, I'm continuing my vampire/angel story, Hand of Death. I really think I'm going to like Aaron and Bastien. The whole naughty/nice innocent/corrupt vibe is such a wicked pleasure I can't give it up. I hope you enjoy it too.

Hand of Death 3

“I understand now. You don’t know the laws of the Choir of angels.” Sebastian goes on as if he hasn’t heard me, but he places his feet on the pegs anyway. I sit in front of him and start the engine, drowning out any further conversation. I don’t care about the laws of the Choir. Sebastian’s a victim and any ruling body that can’t acknowledge the victimization of one of their own who’s been browbeaten into submission and forced to perform acts against his will—well, they don’t merit my allegiance. I’m the Hand of Death. I decide when death is deserved, and this is not one of those times.

His hands wrap around me; he clutches me tightly as we begin our ride. Despite the fact that I’ve secured lodgings in an older but clean motel nearby, and the ride takes little or no time, Sebastian falls asleep on the back of the bike. With one hand I hold his clasped hands together upon my chest. I feel his head loll slightly, back and forth, against my back, between my shoulder blades. I have to work to keep the ride smooth, and prevent my charge from taking a nasty fall.
Despite myself, I consider that maybe I’m making a mistake here by not killing him. He obviously thinks he should die. Who am I to second guess a ruling body of his peers? I pull into the parking lot of the motel and park the bike, carefully grabbing hold of the man as the bike settles onto the kickstand. I get off and draw Sebastian more securely into my arms. No, I’m not making a mistake. Victims don’t deserve to die, regardless of how they see themselves.
I carry him to the door. Holding him clutched in one arm, I swipe the keycard in the door with the other, giving the door a push when the light turns green. It strikes me again how little he weighs. How good he smells. How completely he fits in my arms, and yet he’s an angel; perfection’s what they strive for. In the physical form, there can be a no more flawless a specimen on the face of the earth. His hair a deep brown, lush with sunkissed blond ends. His eyes are closed as if in prayer, but when open—they’re a beautiful soft moss green. He’s small; five foot five or six at the most. Yet his body shows what once was strong lean muscle, and will be again, if I have anything to say about it.
I lay him on one of the beds and close the door behind me, latching it before I return to sit by him. I pick up one of his hands and carefully examined the silver manacles on each of his wrists. They have to come off. They’re inscribed with magic symbols, and will eventually draw others to us. Being silver, I can’t touch them directly, but with my leather riding gloves on, there’s no hazard.
Sebastian’s skin is raw beneath the cuffs. They were designed to be uncomfortable, as well as to keep their charge under control. I go to my bags and draw out a camera, snapping pictures of the inscriptions on the shackles as well as Sebastian’s state: undernourished, dirty, and unconscious. There’s no doubt he was their prisoner.
Having taken pictures for the record, I pull the bolt cutters from among my tools, and cut them from Sebastian’s wrists as carefully as I can. I don’t want to harm him further, but they clearly have to go. The symbols flash in the silver, sparking under the blade of the bolt cutters, as the final snip breaks the ring and they disintegrate into silver dust. Holding my breath, I gather the dust, sealing it in a ziplock bag before disposing of it in the trash can outside the room. The magic dissipated and the silver disposed of, we should be safe for a little while.
Still Sebastian sleeps. I cover him with a blanket and pickup my cell phone. I don’t want to disrupt his rest, so I step outside the room to call my superiors. If an error’s been made, they need to know about it and dispatch a rescue team to deal with Sebastian, and begin his recovery.
“Madeline, sweetheart, how’s it hanging?” I greeted Maddie. The succubus who runs our dispatch department.
“Snake, you viper. Another job done. That was quick, but I suppose one wizard’s hardly a challenge for the likes of you.”
“About that, Maddie, I need to talk to Sanders. Something’s seriously wrong with this one. The intel was completely wrong. The mark’s one of the fallen. An innocent.”
“I’m sorry, dollface, Sander’s isn’t here. The council’s in session and has been for two days. Nobody in or out until they’re finished. It’ll be another week and a half before the doors are opened.”
“Well, how’d I get this assignment then, Maddie? Nobody’s supposed to be dispatched on a kill while the council sits.” It’s all I can do to keep from snarling at her. I know it’s not her fault, but this is completely outside of regular protocol.
“I don’t know what to tell you, hon. Sanders gave me orders to dispatch you just before he entered chambers. I can’t do anything further until they come back out.”
“What do you mean, nothing further?”
“I can’t send you any backup, no cleanup crews, no recon, no rescue teams… I got nothing until those chamber doors reopen. Honey, you’re on your own. So take care of yourself and keep your head down. If you think this angel’s been wrongly accused, then baby, you have to keep him alive.”
“Son of a bitch!”
More Silver Flashers
Lindsay Klug   (m/f)
Lily Sawyer     (m/m)
AJ Jarrett    (m/m)      FLASH VIRGIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Julie Lynn Hayes    (m/m)

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Rudy's Red Nose - Silver's Dreaming of a White Christmas

Greetings Loved Ones!

Rudy's Red Nose, my short story which is part of Silver's Dreaming of a White Christmas release for December is releasing today! I'm so excited! I hope you all enjoy it!

Wishing you Love and Butterflies,
Sui Lynn~~

Austrian exchange student Rudolph Stroh is spending his first Christmas abroad inMissoulaMontana, where he's attending graduate school at Montana State University. With his family thousands of miles away, homesickness and loneliness are Rudy's only holiday companions.

Benjamin Tinge is a nineteen year old college dropout. A family tragedy left him and his little brother, Tommy, homeless and living in a tent in the park, struggling just to stay warm. Keeping Tommy alive as a blizzard rolls in is all Benji wants for Christmas.

When Rudy discovers the brothers huddled in their tent behind a holiday display, he offers to help. Benji is wary, afraid to trust. Can the two mend each other's hearts as Christmas Eve draws near?

"I know, Mama, I wish I could come home, too..."

"We miss you so much. Did you get the Christmas package I sent? I never know what will arrive without being broken."

"Yes, I got your care package and the cookies arrived--intact for the most part. Danke."

"Oh good. I wish I could have sent more, but well... with your father's health failing..."

"How's Papa?"

"Growly as ever, I guess he's feeling better, he's back complaining as usual. Doctors say shouldn't work so hard, but you know him." Emily Stroh chuckled, her voice getting a bit wistful. "That old mule won't stop until he finally drops. He's out in the barn with your brother working on some fool project."

"Tell him to slow down. I want him to still be around when I'm able to come home and visit. That stubborn ol' man will..."

"Rudolph Stroh, I won't have you talking like that about you father. Just because you're in American doesn't mean you can say whatever you want."

"Sorry, Mama. I wasn't being disrespectful. Just..."

"I know you're worried. We are too. We miss you and love you so much!" Emily paused, Rudy heard a stifled sob. "You work hard and get good grades. We are so proud of you."

"I love you too. Say hi to Victor for me. I sure wish he was here, but with papa sick, I'm glad he's with you."

"Victor misses you too. We'll all be so glad to see you when you come home to visit. Work hard, auf wiedersehen."

"Okay, auf wiedersehen." Rudy Stroh sighed dejectedly. He always missed his family. Talking to them on the phone and receiving their care packages in the mail just didn't stave off the homesickness when the holidays rolled around. Rudy sat in his apartment in Missoula, Montana, moping around, nursing his loneliness. He was an adult, twenty-two years old, for god's sakes; shouldn't he be beyond the age of homesickness? Rudy ran a hand through his blond hair. It was early afternoon, just enough time to get over to the coffee shop for a sandwich and then a walk through the park as the decorations were lit. He needed to catch the bus to make it before the shop closed, but he could take his time walking home.

His friends had all abandoned him for the holidays. Not that he could blame them--he wanted to go home too. He'd also lost his roommate. Danny had completed his program and returned home... permanently. At least having Danny's things around during previous holidays had helped to stave off the loneliness with the appearance of others being around. Now Rudy had no such illusions. He was utterly alone.

Unfortunately, as a foreign exchange student, his options were limited. It was expensive to travel back and forth from the US to Austria. He'd expected to be on his own from time to time, but the Christmas semester break was three weeks long, not including the two weeks of finals he didn't have to take because he'd maintained a 4.0 GPA. He had five weeks of being alone ahead of him, during the most love-filled time of the year, and he didn't relish the thought.

Rudy shrugged on his heavy, navy blue, down-filled winter coat, slid his hands into his knit mittens, and wrapped a matching scarf about his head, then headed out the door. He'd found the quaint coffee and sandwich shop in the neighborhood where his apartment was located shortly after his arrival. During the semester, he'd spent many hours studying there while imbibing cup after cup of coffee. The Daily Grind catered to university students, being close enough to the campus for them to be able to run in and grab a quick coffee to go first thing in the morning and still make classes.

Rudy rushed to the corner and climbed into the bus. He showed the driver his student pass then took a seat. He hated being so homesick. This wouldn't be happening if his brother hadn't been such an idiot. Victor had let his grades slip the last semester. He was supposed to be in the US attending classes too. But with his grades not making the cut, he hadn't been allowed to become an exchange student. Rudy was on his own with an apartment leased for two. Now, with too much time on his hands and five weeks left 'til the new semester began, he was reduced to sullenness and self-pity.

The bus pulled to a stop. Rudy got off, heading down the street to The Daily Grind. He'd found himself spending more time downtown at the coffee shop, trying to stave off his loneliness by surrounding himself with people, watching as they went about their holiday preparations.

He took a seat in one of the booths beside the windows, watching the passersby scurry about, laden with packages. From his vantage point, he could vicariously enjoy the hustle and bustle of the families--the smiles on the faces of the children, so full of excitement and hope in eager anticipation of the big day, and the knowing glances of parents who understood and thrilled to their joy. He missed it all so very much. His chest tightened with thoughts of his mother doing her Christmas baking, and oh, the wonderful aromas that must be filling the house even now. He sighed, glancing up to find a waiter standing beside his table.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Silver Flash - Hand of Death 2

Greetings Loved Ones!

It's time for the weekly Silver Flash! I've been so intrigued by my vampire Aaron that I've continued his story this week, so we have another chapter in the Hand of Death. I must admit I'm very caught up in the dark and light contrast of a vampire falling for an angel. I realize this isn't a new concept, but it is one that continues to draw my attention. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Wishing you Love and Butterflies,
Sui Lynn~~
Hand of Death 2 - 11/23/11
A thing of beauty is a joy forever and the voice of an angel in song is so far beyond beautiful and enchanting, there aren’t words. I’d been told about the voice of the angels, but never having met one, I couldn’t imagine it’s power. An angel’s song attracts any being with a soul to its side. The more pure the soul the greater the attraction, but I’d never thought his song could be so captivating as to touch and hold a corrupt soul as dark as my own.
I move like the killing machine I am. Before his song’s over, I’ve killed the two guards who stand outside the SUV and I’m creeping up on the driver, who still sits behind the wheel. I chance a glance at him as he begins a second song. He’s sitting in the grass, a sad, serene smile on his face. His wings shudder as the children begin to gather around him. That’s when it strikes me. The way his hands twitch spastically. His movements, which for an angel should’ve been smooth and graceful, are halting. Something’s dreadfully wrong with the man.
I knock on the driver’s window and the idiot opens the door and makes like he’s gonna step out. He’s dead before his foot touches the ground.
“Hey Jerr—” His passenger begins, but I cut him off in mid-sentence, slicing his throat. I pile the bodies back in the vehicle. The windows are dark. It’s too bad I have to leave it here; the dead will probably be discovered by some curious kid, but I need to get the angel out of here. Now.
I stand beside the vehicle, making sure there’s no blood on my clothing. He’d smell it of course, but there’s no sense in scaring the kids. I sheathe my gladius and head across the grass, plastering a smile on my face that I hope won’t  scare the kids too much. I have to get him out of here before Sebastian’s keepers realize their angel’s gone. I don’t know who the real evil is behind this farce, but I know enough to know that this guy’s the scapegoat, as well as the bait, and he’s as much a victim as the kids being led to the slaughter.
“Sebastian, time to go.” I say when I reach his side.
“Aww. Can’t you stay for one more song? I’ve never seen an angel before.” One little girl gazes at Sebastian with big brown doe eyes. I sincerely hope she won’t be the one to discover the dead bodies in the SUV.
Sebastian stares at me, a frown crossing his face as he looks first to me and then to the vehicle. The scent of fresh blood must be coming off of me in waves. “Ah—no kids. I’m sorry. I have to leave now. Go… be good...” he stammers. I hold out my hand and he takes it. I draw him to his feet.
I can smell more blood. Not the vile thick blood of those I’ve just killed, but a sweet nectar that’s seeping from the abused flesh of his bare feet. Angels don’t normally walk. They hover above the ground, the power of magic in their wings keeping them afloat. The soles of the soft ravaged skin, torn and pierced, seep ambrosia of the highest quality into the ground. I sweep him into my arms and carry him from the park faster than any man can see.
He’s slight, more the weight of a human man—an unhealthy human man, but still heavier than a pureblooded angel. His wings have disappeared; one of the children of the fallen then. Only the fallen have the power to hide their wings. True members of the heavenly host can’t hide what they are. His wings clipped like a common caged bird, his magic along with them. He sighs and rests his head against his chest.
“Where are the guards?”
“They won’t bother you anymore. I’ve taken care of them.”
“You’ve killed them?”
“I’ll pray for their souls.” Sebastian bows his head against my chest, whispering his prayers as we approach my ride. A red, sleek four-cylinder Dakota Indian motorcycle. I ignore what he said. I’ve no understanding of a creature that would pray for the souls of his tormentors. Death I understand. “You’re here to kill me.” It isn’t a question.
“No. Not you. There’s a mistake.” I sit him gently on the pinion seat. “Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?”
“Why would you think there’s a mistake? Because of what I am? I’m guilty. As guilty as the guards you killed without remorse for their participation in this vile escapade. The evil rests on my soul, despite what I am. I’m no longer pure, just sweet enough to attract the innocent.” Sebastian stares at the ground at my feet, as if waiting for the blow.
“I don’t care what you are. Those coerced into doing evil are no more responsible than the victims themselves. A mistake has been made.” Sebastian will be cold, riding on the motorcycle. He wears only a pair of jeans. No shirt covers his magnificent golden chest. Cold doesn’t bother me. Being a vampire, my kind don’t suffer much from the bite of weather. I strip the duster from around my body and put it on him, securing the buttons across his chest.
I flip down the pegs on either side of the cycle for him to place his feet. “Keep your feet on those,” I instruct him. “The exhaust gets hot, so be aware what you’re doing. You’ll need to hold on to me around the waist, tightly, and lean with me on the corners, even if it feels like we’re about to tip. Be mindful of my movements and don’t fight against the pull.”
Other Silver Flashers:

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Silver Flash - Hand of Death 1

Greetings Loved Ones, 

Time for this weeks Silver Flash! For those of you who follow Foxe and Hund, never fear my luscious cops will be back again. But this week I'm beginning a new story entitled The Hand of Death. This is a m/m paranormal romance, in quite a different universe. 

For a while now I've had a vampire whispering in my ear and so begins Aaron's story. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Wishing you Love and Butterflies
Sui lynn~~
Hand of Death 1 - 11/16/11

I’ve been sitting up here in this damn tree for hours and although June is busting out all over, the heavy cloud cover is the only thing allowing it. I must say that this really isn’t any hardship. It’s a rarity when I can be outside during the daylight hours and not fear for my life. There are very few things I’m naturally afraid of, and the sun is one of them; something that’ll undoubtedly chase after me for all of my remaining days. I’m a vampire and that lethal star is both abhorred and revered by my kin.
Who am I? You may well ask. I’ve been many things in my time, but suffice it to say I’m a predator, an animal. I’m everything your mother ever told you to be afraid of in the dark. I’m a cold blooded killer. Quite literally. Since my body doesn’t create its own blood, my body temperature is lower than most. Not that you’d want to get close enough to check. Those that do are usually at death’s door—at my hand.
Killer—yes, without a doubt. I don’t harbor mercy. I don’t succumb to begging. If you’re before me and if you’re in my hands, your death is assured.
Assassin—yes. It’s my job. I’m one of ten. Each of us a different race. Trained to remove the worst of the worst from society. No questions asked. No hesitation. No thought. I am one of the Hands of Death. They call me Snake. It may not be what my mother named me, but these days I don’t think of my mother much.
So I’m enjoying the morning in a way I rarely have the opportunity to do. The sky’s heavily overcast, threatening rain, but it’s yet to be unleashed upon the populace. Today’s target is Sebastian Fallon—he’s a human with a little fae blood in him. He’s believed to be a wizard. They say he’s been kidnapping children and virgins and sacrificing them at the edge of the forest, outside the city. He’s been attempting to draw the unicorns from within out into the open where he can kill them for their horns and body parts. So far he’s destroyed seven of the majestic creatures.
Most families in the area have been warned, but this is the city and children are the weak and helpless. They’re the easiest prey to take down, especially amongst the unwanted and the poor. The parents know there’s a serial killer who’s after their children on the loose, but it’s just another day in someone else’s life. Humans are practically herd beasts in their capacity to look the other way. Most don’t even realize the world is full to the brim with the paranormal around them running amok, yet they see nothing.
A car pulls into the park. I’m here just to do a bit of recon. If he sticks to his schedule, he’ll be in the park picking up ‘tweens and then staking them as sacrifices at the edge of the forest in two days’ time. I need to see his operation so I can take care of him and possibly give the cleanup crew the whereabouts of his stash of kids for rescue. I don’t do rescue. I kill. I’m not soft and squishy enough for rescue… I bite.
The black SUV pulls up to the edge of the curb and I watch as two men in business suits and sunglasses climb out of the cab. Sunglasses—on a day like today? Even I’m not wearing sunglasses and I’m a fuckin’ vampire for God’s sake. What the fuck?
They drag a young man from the back seat—I recognize my target immediately. They untie his hands, but he’s wearing silver bracelets which I know will inhibit him from using his full powers. Even from the photo of the target, I knew he’d be beautiful. Maybe it’s the fae blood… maybe not. But to say a more stunning man has ever been born would be a lie.
“Please, Nathan. Not again. I don’t want to.”
“You know what the boss said, Bastian. Nothing’s changed. Do your job and I’ll take you back to your rooms.”
“But Nathan, they’re babies. I can’t keep doing this.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Is my target pleading not to do the deeds he’s been accused of? Mine not to question why. I’m just supposed to kill and not think. But…
That’s when I see the resigned look on the man’s face, his sad eyes surveying the playground, as a tear slides down his cheek.
“Get out there and just do it already. Then I’ll take care of you.” The man on the left—Mr. Sunglasses—laughs,  then gives the man a push toward the children. He pauses and looks back, which is when I see something I’d never thought to see in this lifetime. As the man trembles, white wings appeared at his back. Oh fuck! It isn’t fae blood flowing through this man’s veins, it’s angel. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. His wings have been clipped so severely there’s no way the man can even hover, yet it does nothing to detract from the beauty of what he appears to be.

This is clearly a mistake. Someone has done fucked up big time. This man needs rescuing as much as the kids do. As an angel, he’s the perfect innocence magnet. Children would flock to him without hesitation, and he’d be forced to lead them to their death. This can’t be happening. I watch in disbelief as he walks barefoot into the center of the park and begins to sing. It’s like watching the most beautiful of moments colliding with the worst clusterfuck of a train wreck I’d ever imagined. I move as only one of my kind can. I hover behind the SUV, the sound of his voice freezing me in my tracks. A more beautiful sound I’ve never heard in my life.

Silver Flashers
Julie Lynn Hayes    (m/m)

Friday, October 28, 2011

Element's of Love 2 - Nico's Fire

Greetings Loved ones,

I've been getting such a wonderful response to Adel's Purr. I'm glad everyone is enjoying it. I decided I wanted to give you a taste of what's to come in Nico's Fire, book 2 in my Element's of Love series. If you are wondering, there are currently 5 books to this series.

Nico's Fire is about our beautiful Jesuit Inquisitor Jude Jamison and his budding issues with fire. Jude's power was awakened in Adel's Purr when Evan fought Father Michael. To say Jude's having control issues is putting it mildly.

We meet more of our villians in this book and find out just how far the corruption of the church has become. We make a few friends along the way and a few personal discoveries for Jude as well.

Here's an unofficial excerpt, now realize here, this is a piece from the rough draft, it is unedited, so there will be errors. I just wanted you to see a bit of the future.  I hope you enjoy it.


The distant crunch of tires on gravel should’ve been alarming, but it wasn’t. They’d been on the run practically from the moment they’d left Evan and Adel in France. ‘I hope they’re alright.’ Jude was the eternal worrier. He hadn’t had a chance to contact them, to see if they were being hunted as well. At first there just wasn’t time, they’d needed to stay ahead of their pursuers—now time had run out. As he lay, broken and bleeding, he prayed that Evan was okay, but exhaustion overrode everything else, and he felt too tired to really care.

Jude’s mind wandered aimlessly in a numb painless haze; he’d expended way too much energy in order to destroy the demons. He thought of Finton—last time he’d seen him, the little sprite had swung his sword and decapitated a vile looking creature, that’d kept coming even without its head. It must’ve been some sort of zombie. Fin had been defending the entrance, but he’d eventually fallen to their greater numbers. Usually there were just a couple of them, but this time they just kept on coming. Jude couldn’t remember where Skye had gotten to; he just prayed the little gargoyle was okay. Evan would have his hide if either one of them had been hurt. ‘So tired,’ Jude thought. It was becoming a mantra, going round and round in his weary mind.

‘If only I could pass out.’ Jude felt as though he was waiting for something—maybe death. ‘That particular entity must be having a busy night since he hasn’t come to collect my soul yet.’ Jude closed his eyes and groaned as something sharp poked him in the back, from the rubble beneath him. His senses registered the pain yet he was so far beyond mere sensation that Jude’s mind could barely acknowledge it.

A decidedly masculine voice floated through the fog of Jude’s thoughts. It was deep and warm. It made him want to curl up into it and sleep for an eternity. ‘Is this the voice of death?’ The sound of flapping wings accompanied the voice and a familiar sing-song warble made him want to smile. ‘Ah my Skye, good, he’s okay.’ Jude would know Skye’s song anywhere; he was still alive and obviously close by.

“Come on you beautiful bird, this place isn’t safe for a gargoyle. You’re too young to be on your own.” The voice crooned softly. Even in his less than stellar condition, the velvety sound of it touched something deep inside Jude.

“Oh God!” The voice shouted. Jude would’ve winced if he could’ve moved. He felt a hand touch his arm and forehead. “What happened!” That touch so—warm and gentle, he felt bathed in the heat of it.

The urge, the desire was primal. A basic instinctual part of himself reached for this other blindly. He wanted to whimper and rub himself against those fingers, but that would take too much effort, although the aching need to do so hurt almost more than his battered body. Jude wanted to answer the voice, but instead he forced open his eyes. He wanted to see the face that belonged to such a melodic voice. His gaze latched onto the most beautiful brown-black eyes Jude had ever seen. He reached up with one hand and touched the face of the man before him; he sighed as peace overwhelmed him for but the fleetest second, before darkness closed around him.


“No!” Nicolas Daemarkus screamed to the demolished room. The gryphon screeched, rising up on his haunches, flapping his wings furiously.

Fate was truly a bitch, how could that fickle woman play with him like this. Nico had questioned the urge to follow the gargoyle when he’d first seen it circling the abandoned building, but gargoyles were so rare these days and this creature was way too young to be on his own. Now he couldn’t be happier or more distraught at the same time.

The man he knelt beside was a mess of wounds and infection, blood and dirt. For all that… he looked incredibly beautiful and fragile to Nico. The man’s temperature was cool to the touch, but then all humans tended to feel cool to Nico and his brother. Still for a human, Nico thought, he’s too warm, feverish. He brushed the long red hair out of the man’s face, wishing those beautiful green eyes would open again.

“My poor little human, what’s happened to you?” Nico practically whimpered with distress. Something he hadn’t done in centuries, as nothing touched his heart anymore.

Nico knew he needed to get the man to safety. To call the burnt out building hazardous was an understatement; the structure barely held itself together, still smoldering in places. He didn’t know if he dared pick up his beautiful human—he could have broken bones or internal injuries, which could be made worse by his interference. He trembled with indecision. Problem was he saw no other way to do it. He had to get help for this man and there’d be no help if they remained here. He carefully ran his hands down the man’s arms and legs. Nothing was obviously broken.

Nico growled, decision made. He gently slid his arms beneath the man and drew him against his chest. The man was far too light for a human his size. He could feel the bones under the man’s skin—far too thin, but again his mind registered that the bones weren’t broken. Thin—Nico knew how to fix. Now, if he could just get the man to safety and get him to open his eyes. The fluttering beat of the man’s heart reassured him that his prize was very much alive and Nico intended him to stay that way.

The gryphon flew out of what had once been a third story window after glancing out, seeing no one below. Nico followed, the unconscious man held securely in his grasp, tight against his chest. He landed on the ground, three stories below, with the ease of stepping from one room into the next, without jostling his precious cargo. He sprinted to the car, where he strapped the man into the passenger’s seat. Nico couldn’t resist the urge to nuzzle the man’s neck as he secured the seatbelt across him. The man smelled wonderful: burning cedar in a fireplace and spice overlaid with strong male musk. This scent spoke to Nico, confirming what he’d known on sight. This man belonged to him—well, he did, if he lived.

“Easy, little one,” Nico whispered more to himself than to the unconscious man. His instincts were screaming to take him and claim him, but the little man was in no condition to satisfy the lust flowing through Nico’s veins. He adjusted himself, trying to relieve the strain on his raging erection that pressed against the zipper of his black dress pants. His protection instinct was the only thing keeping the man from being ravaged on the spot. He would protect this human, even from himself.

“Don’t give up on me, little one,” he whispered and couldn’t resist the briefest brushing of his mouth against his man’s plush red lips. His human was beautiful, his skin soft and pale as alabaster, with just a smattering of freckles across his high cheeks and nose. Nico straightened and closed the car door, then ran around to the driver’s side.

Pulling out into the street and heading as quickly towards home as he could, Nico was never so glad that traffic became nearly non-existent after dark, thanks to the mandates of the Church. Even here in the heart of New York City, people were careful about moving around after the sun went down—not that the night would ever hold any dangers for him. He hit a button on the dashboard of the car and called his brother.


“Hey Nico, what’s up?”

“I need a favor. A friend has gotten hurt. I’m taking him home. Can you meet us there?”

“Sure Nico, but maybe a hospital would be a better choice?”

“No!” Nico growled. “This is personal, Doc. Please—”

“Okay, Nico. I’m on my way.”

“Thanks, Doc. I owe ya.”

“Yeah—so what else is new, Bro.”

Nico hung up and looked at his little man, touching his face with a shaking hand. “Please—hold on, baby.”


Wishing you Love and Butterflies,

Sui Lynn~~

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Silver Flash - Foxe & Hund : 11

Greetings Loved Ones!
Welcome to this week's Silver Flash! The guys are still in the bedroom so the heat is still on this week. There is sexual content so if you are not a fan of beautiful gay men enjoying each other's bodies, then I'd recommend leaving this site. This is an over 18 episode here people so if you are offended by gay sexual content, I'd recommend you not read any further. If you are a fan, well then I hope you enjoy their antics.

If you like this story, feel free to check out the other Silver Flashers, listed at the end. Please Enjoy!

As always, wishing you Love and Butterflies,
Sui Lynn~~

Foxe & Hund : 11

TJ froze. What?! It took everything in his power not to come off with some trite response to the man whose grip had increased, becoming almost brutally painful. What was he supposed to say… should he say anything… should he laugh it off or feign sleep… Well, too late for that, his hand had begun moving again through Zane’s hair.

His emotions were in a turmoil, yet the feel of Zane’s silken hair flowing through his finger, short though it was, relaxed him beyond measure. He sighed softly in the afterglow of his orgasm, the declaration hadn’t really disturbed his bliss overmuch. He knew there was no way he could get out of this unscathed. There was no way he was returning the declaration, not now. He hadn’t even decided how he really felt about Zane. He liked Zane… thought the man was hot as hell. He flipped every single one of TJ’s buttons and could have him wanting with a simple touch. But even TJ knew that was lust, love’s ugly step-cousin.

“I’m sorry… I…” Zane began to pull away from TJ.

“No you don’t. You stay right there and keep holding on. Don’t you dare move.” TJ practically growled, his fists knotting in Zane’s hair, holding him in place. Zane hissed, but his grip around TJ’s waist tightened.

“Okay…” Zane mumbled, shaking his head, rubbing his face into TJ’s groin.

TJ took a deep breath, his fingers petting Zane’s hair as though nothing had happened. “I…I’m not sure what to say, Zane.” TJ looked down to see Zane clutching him with a desperation so touching that he almost capitulated and damned the consequences. The problem would be that it’d be a lie. He wouldn’t lie to Zane; he liked Zane but the “L” word was too much. He refused to utter that before it was true and make it meaningless. With all the relationships and lovers he’d had in the past, he’d yet to declare that word to anyone. With Zane, he could see… could feel the possibilities in the air. He wouldn’t make them meaningless.

“I know I shouldn’t have said it. It isn’t fair of me to expect you to return it.” Zane shook his head again and groaned. “I’ve watched you for so long. I’ve been wanting you for so long it just became this overwhelming part of me. I’ve grown to love you, seeing you every day. How much you care about those you work with and never—never letting the job get to you.”
“Zane… I…”

“No, let me finish.” Zane looked up into TJ’s eyes. “You’re strong. So beautiful, loyal, honest…”

“Stop, you’re making me sound like a Labrador.”

Zane sighed and crawled up the bed. He cupped TJ’s face gently. “I know you can’t love me back. Maybe I can hope you might like me… Maybe you’ll give me a chance to prove how much I love you and you’ll come to care about me too.”

“I do care about you, Zane. I do like you, I always have.”

“Then let me show you how good we can be together.” Zane brushed a hot kiss across TJ’s lips, nipping at his bottom lip then lapping at the burn. Zane rolled TJ under him, straddling his thighs. Pushing himself up and back he sat on his heels. He stripped the navy knit sweater off over his head. TJ’s hands were immediately on his chest, caressing his skin, running over his pecs, down across his stomach and resting on his abs as Zane struggled to undo the buckle on his belt.

TJ brushed his hands out of the way and began working on the belt himself. “Let me unwrap my own present.” He grinned up into Zane’s face. His eyes danced with mischief. Zane was glad that the mood was back, light and fun. He wanted to make this a night TJ’d always remember fondly, not the night he put his foot in it … yet again.

Trembling fingers struggled with his top button, but hesitated on the zipper. Zane’s erection pressed hard against the ziper and with slow care, TJ drew down on the tab, releasing Zane’s cock—he’d gone commando under his jeans—from confinement.

“That boy’s a monster.” TJ’s voice came out in awe as he reached for and held Zane’s engorged shaft in his hand.

“You can handle it. I know you can. We were made for each other.” Zane leaned forward and kissed TJ breathless as he shucked his jeans, kicking them to the floor. “I’m going to be so good to you. But if you want to stop or if I’m hurting you, you have to tell me.” Zane lowered his head to one of TJ’s nipples, laving the nip ‘til it was hard and red under the attention of his teeth and tongue.

“God yes, anything, Zane.” TJ gasped, grinding his hips up against Zane’s as his cock began to revive.

Silver Flashers:

Julie Hayes  (m/m)