Book Cover: Joe
Part of the Drawing Straws series:

Damon, Erik, Tork and Joe are back again for another wild weekend together where they can all let go and really be themselves.

Just because they’ve left their jobs and lives behind though, doesn’t mean that they’ve left their baggage behind, too. Joe’s had a really rough week and to everyone’s surprise, fixes the draw so he gets the sub straw.

Can Damon, Erik and Tork help Joe deal with his troubles and send him home on Monday feeling ready to take on the world again?

Publisher: Resplendence Publishing
Cover Artists:

William Torkvinenndan turned the hamburgers and then sat, drinking his beer. He’d come up early. Taking the extra day off had been just what he needed after three hard months working at the interdepartmental unit. Tork couldn’t remember the last time he’d had more than three hours of sleep. Making sure he was here for the full weekend became a top priority.

Chuckling, he watched his breath puff out in the cold; he’d expected he’d still be second or third here, not the first. So now he was on his own until someone else showed up. The burgers were to entice his brothers in blue - if you cook it, they will come.


The sound of a truck filled the air, cutting through the peace. Ah. Erik. Waiting for Erik to come through to the deck, he grinned as he remembered their last weekend. Erik had played sub and it had been glorious. Wouldn’t it be funny if Erik drew the short straw twice in a row after having gone so long without being the bottom?

Their Nordic god came out the kitchen door and grinned, blue eyes twinkling. “Hey, boss. How’s the promotion going?”

It’s a lot of fucking work.” Standing, Tork held open his arms, wrapping Erik in a strong hug. God, he’d missed this. The time between their weekends felt longer every time, even though it wasn’t.

Erik nodded and grabbed him, squeezed him tight. “Good to see you, man.”

You too.” Tilting his head, Tork pressed their mouths together. Oh, fuck, Erik tasted good. All fucking male with salt and sweet - Erik must have eaten a doughnut on the way up. There was probably a fucking box of them on the kitchen table now.

Erik’s hand wrapped around Tork’s skull, the tongue fucking making Tork’s knees weak, and he cried out. Clinging to Erik, he let the man take his mouth. Barring when he got the short straw, no one else could, but they were a physical match - of a height, a size - and Erik knew how to kiss. It was fucking stunning. Damn, if he was the sub this weekend, he’d be more than happy for more of this. Tork opened wider, groaning, inviting Erik to continue.

Hungry man.” Erik moaned, dragged their bodies tight, hips rolling their cocks together.

Been three months.” Tork didn’t have anyone outside of these men. Aside from not really having time, these were the guys he was into, he cared for, who cared for him.

Want a quickie?” Erik asked, humping against him. “I got blue balls.”

Oh, I have to see these blue balls of yours. I might take pictures.” He gave Erik a wink, nodded. “Hell, yes, I want a quickie. I’ve been here for three hours. On my own.” Nothing to do but think and wait and wish someone was there already to get off with.

Oh, man.” Erik sounded genuinely sympathetic. “Come to the big couch.”

You don’t have to ask me twice.” Tork went to the barbeque and turned off the gas, then brought the cover down. It would have to do. Better to re-warm the burgers than have them completely dried out.

Food put off for later, Tork followed his favorite Greek God’s ass back into the house.

Erik started to strip down, that new knife wound from the last get together now covered with a tattoo - a black dagger pointing all the way down Erik’s belly.

Jesus, ‘Rik that is stunning.” Tork moved closer and traced it with his fingers, the muscles of Erik’s abdomen fucking sexy.

You like it?” Erik flexed those amazing muscles for him. “I got it during an undercover sting.”

Shit yeah. It’s enticing.” He grinned, stroked his fingers over it again. “I want to lick it.”

It’s healed.” Erik had his jeans open, but not off, and he took a wide stance. “Go for it.”

Tork nodded, dropping to his knees and leaning in. He breathed in, pulling Erik’s scent deep into his lungs. He swore he could tell his men each by scent alone. Erik smelled of Speed Stick and grass and the barest hint of soap.

Opening his mouth, he slowly dragged his tongue over the handle of the dagger. Erik’s belly went rock hard, jerking at his touch. Moaning, he traced the rest of the knife with the tip of his tongue.

Mmm. It covered the scar nicely, hmm?” Erik sounded pleased, and more than a little turned on.

Yeah. I can still feel the scar under my tongue, though.” While he was here, Tork figured he might as well fish out that fucking amazing prick and have at it.



Book Cover: Erik
Part of the Drawing Straws series:

Damon, Erik, Joe, and Tork graduated together from the police academy. Though they’ve found their niches in different departments, they’ve kept a tradition alive that brings them together four times a year.

The four men meet at Erik’s secluded cabin for a long weekend and draw straws for which of them is going to be the sub. This fall, Erik draws the short straw for the first time in a couple of years, and the other three men can’t wait to play Dom to Erik’s sub.

Will the weekend go as planned or are the men beginning to tire of the fun and games?

Publisher: Resplendence Publishing
Cover Artists:


Book Cover: Damon
Part of the Drawing Straws series:

Damon, Erik, Joe and Tork return once again to their weekend getaway cabin and this time they have something to celebrate.

Damon is finished with his cancer treatments and the weekend starts with a welcome announcement and only gets better from there. Tork has another surprise for his men, though, one that will cement their lives together forever.

Join the foursome in this final installment of Drawing Straws.

Warning: Four sexy cops turn a quarterly weekend of fun into a lifetime partnership.

Publisher: Resplendence Publishing
Cover Artists:

Will Torkvinenndan pulled up in front of the cabin, the lights from inside looking warm and welcoming in the late September night. He was tired—it had been a long fucking week, and he hadn’t seen his guys in longer than that. He’d cleared his calendar, though. He had the whole weekend to look forward to, and, on top of that, new digs next week.

He might have zoned for a moment, his phone bringing him out of it. There was a text from Joe, asking where the hell he was. Shaking his head at himself and not bothering to respond, he grabbed his bag and headed in. He’d rather give his answer in person, thank you very much, instead of wasting any more time woolgathering.


He threw open the door. “Lucy, I’m ho-ome.”

Damon looked up, his dark fuzz of hair still short, but there, and so were the arched eyebrows. God, Tork had missed them.

Oh, Ricky!” Damon exclaimed in his best falsetto.

Tork laughed. God, Damon looked good. Not great, not quite back to normal, but it had been over a week since he’d seen Damon, and he could see there was a marked improvement.

Smiling at Damon, Tork nodded. “Hey, Cricket.”

Took my PET scan, Tork.” No beating around the bush, no making them wait to hear. Just straightforward Damon.

Yeah?” Tork tried not to look as on the edge as he felt. This was it.

Joe and Erik both turned and stared. So Damon hadn’t told them either. Good. Damon had known they’d all want to be here for this.

Yeah.” Damon took a deep breath. “I have to go back for another scan in six months and then six months after that, but…” Damon shrugged. “I’m clear.”

Tork let the words sink in. Hell, he thought they all were because none of them said anything for a long moment. Then he started to laugh, the sound pouring out of him as a huge weight he hadn’t even been aware he’d carried lifted from his shoulders. Damon was cancer-free.

Tork went and grabbed Damon up, hugging him as tight as he fucking could. He never wanted to let go.

Joe and Erik tackled them, the strong, muscled bodies surrounding them, and it was exactly right, this moment, the four of them holding each other, everyone here, everyone healthy, no threats hanging over them. It was a perfect fucking moment.

Fuck, yeah!” Erik crowed, the sound filling the air. “Fuck, yeah!”

That’s the best thing I’ve heard in a long fucking time, Cricket.” Joe’s grin was so big it looked like it was trying to eat his face.

Me, too. Me, too.” Damon looked so pleased. “No more chemo. I get to officially come back to work in two weeks.”

You’re happy about work? How about this?” Tork grabbed Damon’s ass. Work was the last thing on his mind right now. He wanted it to be damn low on Damon’s priority list, as well.

This? Who says you’re getting hold of this?” Damon blinked his eyelashes rapidly, almost capturing an innocent look. Almost.

You going to make us draw straws?” Tork knew he wasn’t the only one who wanted a piece of Damon’s ass. No, needed it.

No.” Joe’s voice was harsh. “No. It’s been months. I need you to have the short straw, Damon. I need it.”

Erik nodded. “Yeah, Cricket. It’s been so long since we’ve had anything resembling normal. We need to stake our claim.”

You guys are so cheating.” Damon didn’t sound particularly put out by it, but Tork knew he needed to, at least, point out that they were totally breaking protocol.