Happy April, dear readers.  It’s only eleven days into the month, but it’s already been a bit of a whirlwind.  My plans for writing have taken a strange turn–namely in the fact that I’ll be working a lot slower as I head back to University to work on a second Master’s Degree.  It’s in history, something that’s always been important to me, and although it means writing will take a backseat to all of that study, I’m excited about this new adventure.

As for my release plans, I can’t give any details about that, but I’m currently putting the finishing touches on a couple of short stories set in the Verismo universe.  The first one released is called Tremolo, and it’s a short story of how two of my favourite side characters, Alessio and Rémy, end up together.  It isn’t going to be long, and will be available on amazon as soon as it’s finished.

For now, please enjoy a small excerpt of Tremolo, and check back for updates on publishing.  I’ll try to get another blog-post in this month if I can.

x

***

“I don’t.  Um.” Rémy licked his lips.  “Are you…do you mean…”  It was rare, the way he was fumbling with his words, but he was so lost in Alessio’s eyes, almost desperate for it to mean more than just…this.  Than just the stage.  The opera.

Si,” Alessio breathed.  He took a step in closer and put his hand at the back of Rémy’s neck.  “Posso chiederti di baciarmi?”

“I don’t understand what you,” Rémy began, but the words died on his lips when Alessio’s thumb brushed against them, light, but searing hot.  “Oh.  Erm.  Yes, please.”

Alessio leaned up, his other hand fisting into the front of Rémy’s shirt, and he pulled him in.  It wasn’t chaste, there was no hesitation.  Their mouths pressed together, then opened, and Rémy groaned when he felt the hot, velvet-slick brush of Alessio’s tongue against his own.  He felt himself walking backward, propelled by Alessio’s body until he crashed against cold brick.  Alessio’s knee went between Rémy’s knees, pushing them apart, hitching their hips up close.  He could feel Alessio, hard and pulsing against his thigh, and his head dropped back hard against the wall.

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