Please join me in welcoming Angela Plowman back to Friskbiskit! Almost a year ago we celebrated the release of Angie's first book, A Wolf in the Fold. Now she's back with another hot historical, The Highwayman!
Angie's generously giving away a copy to one lucky commenter so please be sure to say hello.
Take it away, Angie!
It’s been a year since my first book came out with LooseID; Wolf in the Fold. It takes me forever to come up with plot ideas. It works like skipping stones. In fact I was walking along by the canal side when I got the idea. I’ve always had a bit of a thing for the Alfred Noyses poem “The Highwayman” since we read it at school a long, long time ago. The ending always gets to me; its so sad and beautiful; true lovers dying for each other.
It was actually my partner who made a mocking comment about giving Bess, the landlord’s daughter a sex change, which started this all off. From Bess to Ben and that of course had to be the lovely, fey looking Ben Whishaw running through my head (naked). For his partner in crime there was really only one choice for inspiration for The Highwayman himself, Jeffrey Dean Morgan of course – that smile! Oh that smile!
Once I get going things only take a few weeks to write – my stories are quite short. The next problem was finding a publisher who would take a retelling of a poem. Liquid Silver Press took a chance on me and I hope readers will take a chance on me too. It’s quite different from Wolf in the Fold – which I always considered to be a comedy. We have the historical setting again but the characters are less violent towards each other – no spanking here and more loving. There is peril again but fear not – unlike the poem my story has a happy ending.
Blurb: Romance and adventure are things innocent Ben has only dared to dream about, but the night they come knocking on the door of his father’s inn, they come in the form of a handsome, sexy rogue who is soon showing Ben a thing or two about passion. But Ben’s secret visitor is not as secret as he thought, and danger is following on the stranger’s shiny leather boot heels, and Ben is soon in deeper than he ever dreamed. The moor holds a lot of secrets, but tonight it is going to be giving some of them up. The question is will either of them survive to see the dawn?
Dominant dangerous men despoiling very willing innocents. M/M
Alfred Noyes’ much loved poem, The Highwayman, is brought to colorful life in this retelling with a twist.
Romance, historical, M/M, action/adventure, GLBT
Leave a comment and be entered to win a free copy of The Highwayman!
Behind the cut is an excerpt from The Highwayman. Warning, this excerpt contains extremely hot, naked men. By clicking the link below, you certify that you are 18 or older, and that it is legal for you to read adult themed material.
If he had been appealing dressed in his finery, he was magnificent now unclothed. Ben took in the whole glorious sight.
Large bare feet were planted square on the floor, muscular legs which spoke of often being on horseback, chest broad and strong and covered with dark hair, arms again muscular and well defined with fists planted upon narrow hips—and the delights displayed… He had never seen another man’s cock before, but he saw one now and knew it would ruin him for all others. He feasted his eyes on the length. His mouth watered as he saw how large it hung, not quite flaccid, from a thick nest of dark curling hair, balls beneath heavy in their sac. He could have fallen to his knees on the spot.
As it was, he took a step backward, bumped into the table, and heard the water slosh in the jug behind him. He was quick to turn, but it righted itself without spilling much. Could he be nothing but clumsy in front of this man—if he were a mere man and not some enchanted being?
Not wanting to miss a moment of the view, he turned again to face the room and found the guest had taken the few steps forward, closing the distance between them. He was head and shoulders taller than Ben and almost twice as broad.
He had to look up to meet the eyes looking down at him, and he became unsettled yet again by the look in them. Hunger.
He gulped. Where before his stare had been transfixed lower, now he could not look away from those purple depths, which seemed fixed upon him, and it started a fire in his lower body. His gaze dropped as a tongue came out and licked the full lips.
“What have we here?” The voice was like velvet over gravel; it suited this vision of his ideal man to perfection.
“Ben, sir. Ben, the landlord’s son.”
“The landlord’s black-eyed son.”
Unable to tear his gaze away, he was still aware of movement below and knew the vision must have taken his own cock in hand, stroking it. Ben’s member pulsed with eagerness within his breaches.
“Were you wanting Bess, sir?” He knew such things happened. Bess was not averse to making a little extra coin on the side, and his father turned a blind eye so long as she did not make a habit of it. For all he knew she might not even charge. Bess was a lively lass with a love of life and all its pleasures, though Tom grumbled often enough that she would not look his way. The ostler thought Bess felt herself too grand for him, but it was probably more on account of Tom’s peaked face and moldy hay-like hair.
“Now why would I want Bess when such a delight is before me?” He reached out to take Ben’s chin in the palm of his hand and tilt his face upward. “You’ve lips red like a cherry and twice the loveliness of your Bess.”
He felt his face suffuse with heat. Was his accoster very drunk? But no, he smelled no liquor on the breath now wafting over his face. The hand cupping his chin was firm and steady with no shake of palsy or drunkenness. The fingers were callused and strong. He felt his knees begin to tremble and was sure they were about to give way. To his shame, he heard himself whimper. The warmth of his blush was quick to spread over his body, and it felt as though a fire had been lit within his flesh. He swayed a little on his feet. The hand moved from his chin to steady his shoulder, and he was guided to the side until he found himself sitting upon the double bed with the man beside him.
Eye contact was broken, and Ben felt a little more free. “I’m sorry sir, was there anything else you’d be wanting?” Oh, please, he thought, let him be wanting me! His member was stiff with wanting, he knew not what.
He felt rather than heard the rumbling chuckle from the big man as though a cat was on his lap enjoying a stroke, and he felt the vibrations of its purr. Though it would have to be a very large cat.
“Well now. How about a kiss from those cherry ripe lips to warm me in my cold and lonely bed?”