This week’s guest author is Reese Johnson. Mr. Johnson is new to publishing, but already has two novels out with Noble Romance.

Q: Hello, Reese. Can you start by tell us all what genre do you write in?
A: I write fantasy, paranormal, M/M erotic…it’s a very long story, but when I started writing it just kinda came out this way.

Q: How long did you write before you received your first contract for publication?
A: I never really thought about getting published, I just wrote for the fun of it. Then a friend read something I wrote and said I should try to write a book and get published. I got lucky I guess, because my first two books received contracts.

Q: So, if you don’t mind sharing, would you tell us about your latest work in progress?
A: Right now I’m just kind of in shock that both my books are being published so I’m not really working on anything else. I’m trying to find out more about the publishing process, working with editors, etc.

Q: Out of all the stories you’ve written, which is your favorite?
A: lol, I’ve only written two and I like them both!

Q: Do you need to be in a specific place or atmosphere before the words flow?
A: Definitely and I never know what that place might be!

Q: What’s the strangest source of inspiration you’ve found for a story?
A: I spent a lot of years in prison and saw a lot of different things, so you could say that my inspiration comes from years of boredom and seeing the human condition at it’s worst.

Q: If you could offer one tidbit of information for new writers, what would it be?
A: Since I am a new writer, I guess the best advice I could give would be to get in contact with other writers and ask as many questions as you can.

Q: Do you have an evil day job or do you write full time?
A: I don’t have a day job and I don’t write full time either. I’m old and slow and most days I spend just puttering around and sleeping.

Q: What do you like to do in your spare time?
A: I like spending time outside working in the garden. Growing things calms me down and keeps me centered.

Q: Name one thing readers would be surprised to learn about you.
A: Besides the fact I’m an old black man writing gay erotica?

Q: What’s your favorite dirty word?
A: Three girls, all sisters!

Q: What’s your favorite holiday, and why?
A: Christmas because my nieces and nephews all come home.

Q: Do you have any tattoos or piercings?
A: I have one tat on my back, it is my name in African

Q: If you could be intimate with three people (not necessarily all at one time *g*) without getting in trouble with your significant other, who would they be?
A: I don’t have a significant other, so that’s not a problem, but the sisters mentioned above would be a good start.

Q: If you were stranded on a desert island, what three things would you want with you?
A: The three sisters mentioned earlier!

Q: If you won the lottery tomorrow, what would you spend the money on?
A: my family

Q: Which household chore do you abhor and why?
A: Laundry, I would like to be able to just throw clothes away when they get dirty and have new ones in the closet.

Q: What’s your favorite comfort food?
A: Fresh baked cinnamon rolls and a cup of coffee.

Q: Do you have any guilty pleasures you feel comfortable sharing?
A: I think all of life should be a pleasure w/o guilt.

Q: Do you have a favorite book or movie?
A: I read westerns and some sci-fi and mostly watch sports on TV.

Q: Anything else you’d like to share?
A: I’d just like to thank you for this time since I’m so new to all of this, I really appreciate it.

Q: In closing, tell us a bit about your latest release (& share a yummy excerpt for those who aren’t yet familiar with your work)

Blurb:

Attorney Jim Williams is tall, black and beautiful. When he meets fellow attorney, Steve Wheeler, it seems as if the relationship is meant to be, but when Jim’s former lover suddenly appears back in his life, the boundaries of Jim and Steve’s relationship is tested.

Excerpt:

Jim swallowed the last of his wine and set the glass aside. He leaned toward Steve, his fingers brushing Steve’s cheek, and kissed him lightly. Jim felt Steve lean forward, their lips pressed more tightly together, and he took the kiss deeper. The kiss was slow, languid and their tongues glided against one another.
Jim moved forward, pressing Steve back until he was lying down and Jim was on top of him. Jim broke the kiss and looked into Steve’s eyes. He could see the lust, the want, the need, and felt his own desires flare up inside him.
Jim ran his hand down Steve’s side until he found the tail of his shirt and lifted it. He ran the flat of his hand along Steve’s smooth skin, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel his skin against Steve’s skin. He rose up, forcing Steve to release the suction on his bottom lip, and pulled his jersey and T-shirt off over his head. Then he took off his sneakers and jeans and stood naked, looking at Steve, watching his reaction.
Steve reached for him, but Jim intercepted his hand and pulled Steve to his feet. He cupped Steve’s face in both hands and kissed him again, slipping his tongue into Steve’s mouth, as Steve ran his hands over Jim’s back. Then Jim stepped back and smiled as he began undressing Steve. He unbuttoned his shirt, kissing each bit of skin as it was exposed, and then pushed it off his shoulders. He kissed Steve again, running his hands over the soft hair on his stomach, and moved his hands up Steve’s body while his mouth moved over Steve’s face and down his neck.
Steve leaned his head back, giving Jim full access, and Jim licked down the column of his throat and nibbled at his collarbone. When Steve moaned, it incited Jim and he felt flames of desire licking his loins. He moved over Steve’s chest as he fumbled with the closure on his slacks. Once he figured it out, the slacks slid to the floor, followed by his tighty-whiteys.
Both men stepped back and looked at one another. Jim could feel Steve’s eyes raking over his body, taking him in. He looked at Steve. He was all sun-bronzed skin stretched tightly over well-built muscle, with a light dusting of hair on his chest and stomach. His thighs and calves were well developed, but Jim’s eyes were drawn to Steve’s cock that was hanging halfway down his thigh, and looked as if it was as thick as his own wrist. Jim grinned broadly. So did Steve. Then they were locked together in a passionate tangle of arms, legs, and tongues as they attacked one another.

Blurb:

Turned into werewolves hundreds of years ago, Timber and his lover, Micah, have finally found peace high in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. Their clan is made up of werewolves from every walk of life and includes gay, lesbians, and even a few straights. Far across the valley is another clan, and their leader, Jack, isn’t happy about the abomination going on with Timber’s clan. When war is declared, Timber attempts to reason with Jack and try to find a peaceful solution. Jack’s reasons for hating the other clan isn’t clear, and Timber tries to learn his secret, but how many will die first?

Excerpt:

Prologue-

New Orleans 1753

“This is an abomination!” Lord Barrows thundered.
“Father, I can…” Timberlin started.
“Guards! Guards!” Lord Barrows shouted, and almost instantly five men with swords and pistols at the ready appeared.
“No, Father! You can’t!”
“Take that one!” Lord Barrows pointed to the man in bed beside his son. “Kill him!”
“No! It’s not his fault. Father, please!” Timberlin was used to his father’s outbursts and heavy handedness, but he had never seen such rage before. His face was suffused with blood and had turned a hideous shade of purple. Even through his tears, Timberlin could see the veins bulging in his father’s neck and was quite sure the man was about to have a stroke. He watched as Micah was yanked from the bed, and fought to hold on to him while Micah kicked and fought the guards himself. It was to no avail, as Micah was dragged naked across the thick carpeting and out the bedroom door. Timberlin could hear him scream all the way down the hall, and then down the stairs to the front entry. Even after he heard the large, heavy doors, open and then close, Timberlin could still hear Micah screaming. And then he heard nothing at all.
Timberlin pushed the covers back and jumped out of bed to stand naked before his father. “I will never forgive you!”
Lord Barrows backhanded Timberlin across the face. “You will never forgive me?” The man chuckled in disbelief. “After what you’ve just been caught doing, you think I am the one at fault?” He raised his beefy hand to strike his son again, but Timberlin caught it mid-swing.
“Old man,” he said calmly, “you will never strike me again. If you ever try, I will gut you like the useless pig that you are. Now get out of my room.”
Lord Barrows stood speechless, a first for him, certainly. Then he spun on his heel and walked toward the door, stopping just as he was about to enter the hallway. “You are no son of mine. When I return, do not be here. I never want to lay eyes on you again.”
Timberlin shut the door softly behind his father. “Not a problem, old man,” he said to himself. He went to his bureau and selected his clothing-riding breeches, shirt, and an overcoat. He dressed, pulled on his boots and walked to the door, stopping for one last look. Funny, he thought, other than the picture of his dearly departed mother, there wasn’t a single thing he’d regret leaving behind, and started down the hallway. He stopped suddenly as one of the bedroom doors creaked open and his younger half-brother, Hap, peeked through the crack. Timberlin groaned inwardly, and amended the list of things he’d regret leaving.

At the stables, Timberlin saddled his horse himself, mounted and rode into the darkness. Where they’d taken Micah was anybody’s guess, but Timberlin had enough gold in his purse to bribe even his father’s men, once he found them. He rode for a few miles until he came to the old pub and dismounted. None of the gentry would be caught dead in this place, so he and Micah had often frequented the pub. It was the only place they could be together without tongues wagging back to his father, and it was also the only place he knew that would still be serving alcohol and he hoped his father’s men had stopped by to have a drink after they’d dealt with Micah.
Timberlin nearly broke down bawling like a schoolgirl at the thought of Micah. They’d met at the academy more than ten years ago and there had been an immediate attraction. Micah was Timberlin’s opposite in every way. Micah had golden hair that hung straight, while Timberlin’s was black as night and curled aimlessly about his head. Micah was so fair, his skin burned after only a few minutes in the sun, while Timberlin’s skin was dark and only became darker in the sun. Micah’s eyes were the color of the mid-summer sky, while Timberlin’s were so dark, his pupils were indistinguishable from the iris. Micah was fine boned, sleek, delicate, yet strong and quick. Timberlin was broad, muscled, and strong as an ox.
The picture of Timberlin’s mother showed him to favor her over his father. His mother was even darker than Timberlin, her hair tightly curled, and her dark eyes shone. Lord Barrows claimed she was Spanish, but Timberlin doubted his word. More than once he’d heard the Negro slaves comment about his appearance, and more than once, he’d heard the word Mulatto. Whatever his heritage, it had given him height, weight, strength, length of bone and sinewy muscle.
He dismounted in front of the pub and walked inside. The dimly lit house smelled of stale beer, rotten food, and unwashed bodies. Timberlin’s eyes adjusted and he walked to the counter and laid a coin down. A drink was immediately poured and set before him, and without a word, he tipped his head back and swallowed it.
“Another,” he said and slapped another coin on the bar. He swallowed that one as well, and then said, “Have you seen any of my father’s men tonight?”
“They was here,” the old man told him. “They left about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Did they mention where they were going?” The old man just looked at him. Timberlin laid down two more coins and asked again, “Do you know where they were going?”
“Said they had something to drop off in the swamp and they all laughed, then they took off.”
Timberlin ran for the door and mounted his steed without using the stirrups. He spurred the horse into a dead run, heading for the swamp. He berated himself for not having thought of it before this. His father’s men had used it as a dumping ground for runaway slaves, hunting dogs that had outlived their usefulness, and for getting rid of anything their employer might not want around. In less than twenty minutes, he caught sight of his father’s men’s horses tethered to tree limbs, so he dismounted and hid his horse in the trees about a hundred yards from them.
The moon disappeared from sight when Timberlin entered the swamp on foot. This was no place for man or beast. The ground was uneven, had large holes filled with water, and the mud could pull a man right under if he wasn’t careful. Not to mention the snakes and alligators. The sounds were eerie and made Timberlin’s skin crawl, as the desire to turn and run clawed its way through his mind. He knew Micah was dead, and fought back another wave of grief. He had to find the body before the swamp creatures did. Micah deserved a Christian burial and Timberlin was going to make sure he got it.
After moving through the inky blackness, Timberlin caught sight of a flickering light and heard disembodied voices floating through trees that hung thick with Spanish moss. He followed the light until he could see the men and waited. Unable to hear their words distinctly, or to see exactly what they were doing, but when he heard a loud splash followed by their raucous laughter, he knew they’d disposed of Micah. He waited until the men made their way back toward their horses, then reached above him and caught a few strands of Spanish moss in his hands and pulled it free. He wound it tightly together and twisted it, then tore a piece of material from the hem of his shirt, pulled his flint box from his purse and used it to light the moss.
It wasn’t the best torch, but it gave him some light as he went to the place where the men had been. All he could see was the place where the men had stood and the inky, black water of the swamp. He did not want to step into that water, but Timberlin forced himself. He had to find Micah. Timberlin pulled off his boots first, the last thing he wanted was for his boots to fill with mud and water and weight him down. Then he stepped into the water and cringed as mud squished between his toes and the water moved up his leg. He held the moss torch over the water, but all it illuminated was a big, black snake gliding toward him. Timberlin held his breath and froze in place as the snake bumped its nose against his shin, flicked its forked tongue, then continued on its way. Timberlin wiped an arm across his face as sweat ran in rivulets into his eyes.
He took another cautious step, then bent over and put one hand in the water, while holding the torch out with the other. Three more small steps and his hand felt a form beneath the water. Grabbing whatever he could, he pulled the form from the water and discovered Micah with his hands and feet bound tightly. He pulled Micah up, dropped the moss that had nearly burned out, and wrapped both arms around Micah’s chest, pulling Micah out of the water and onto the muddy bank and quickly untied him.
“Micah,” he whispered. “Oh, God, please help me. Micah!” Then he heard a cough and a sputter and Micah drew a breath. “You’re alive! Thank you, God! Micah, can you hear me?” He pulled Micah onto his lap and cradled him, rocking back and forth. There was blood on his shirt and it was still seeping through the material onto Timberlin’s arm. “I have to get you to a doctor.” Timberlin looked around, but it was so dark, he couldn’t see his hands before his face, even though it was nearing dawn.
Timberlin began searching for more Spanish moss when he heard a distant howl. A long, low, feral sound that sent chills through his body. His head whipped around, but he saw nothing. He heard the howl again, and this time it sounded closer. Timberlin had heard the Loup Garou, or werewolf, stories from the slaves, but he’d never believed them. The story went that if one of the creatures bit you without killing you, you became like them. Undead. Seeking human blood for all eternity. He’d laughed the stories off, thinking them nothing more than a way to scare children into behaving, but now, he wasn’t so sure. The howling continued to sound closer and the hair on his arms and neck stood on end.
A branch broke behind him, and when he whipped his head around, something grabbed him by the back of the neck and lifted him off the ground. The last thing he remembered was the pain in his neck when the thing bit him, and the sound of his own screaming.
When Timberlin woke, he was on the ground looking up at the cypress trees and Spanish moss and knew he was still in the swamp. Sunlight was streaming through the trees and bugs flew around his face. He moaned as he tried to sit up, and found Micah in a heap next to him.
“Micah. Are you alive? Can you hear me?” Timberlin leaned heavily over his friend and grasped his face in his hand. Micah’s eyes fluttered open and he inhaled deeply. “You’re alive! Thank God.” Timberlin fell onto his back, suddenly feeling every ache and pain in his body.
Micah rolled over. “What happened? Why am I not dead? Your father…”
“I don’t know,” Timberlin whispered. “Just let me rest for a moment. Then I’ll get us out of here.”
Timberlin and Micah held onto one another for support and managed to make their way back to Timberlin’s horse that was still grazing near the spot he’d been left the night before. They rode together and made their way to a hotel in town and ordered food and baths brought to their room, and put it on Lord Barrows bill. Micah chuckled all the way up the stairs. “He’s going to kill us both this time.”
Timberlin shook his head. “No. He might try, but he won’t kill either of us.” Timberlin was still in shock from the events of the previous night, but the fact that the love of his life was beside him, soothed every ache and pain he had. He’d never known such abject fear in his life as he had thinking Micah was dead, and now that he was alive, now that they were both alive, Timberlin would do everything he could to make sure they stayed that way.
He pushed open the door to their suite and followed Micah inside. The room was well appointed, with one large bed on the opposite wall and a fireplace ready to be lit on the facing wall. Timberlin struck the provided flint and the fire came to life. Micah fell heavily onto a chair facing the fireplace and leaned his head back, exhausted and relieved. There was a knock on the door and Timberlin opened it, allowing the servants to bring the tub and food inside. The servants made many trips with hot water to fill the tub, and finally, the two men were alone.
“Here,” Timberlin said, handing Micah a glass of wine. “Drink this and I’ll get our plates. You need to eat. Then we’ll make use of that tub,” he said with a sly grin and a wink.
Micah chuckled and said, “The way I feel, I’ll probably drown in the tub.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Timberlin said as he knelt beside Micah’s chair. He pushed a lock of hair from Micah’s forehead and kissed him gently. “I’ll never let anything happen to you again.” Micah nodded and smiled, then drained his wine glass.
The two men sat in front of the roaring fire in a comfortable silence while they ate their meal. Then Timberlin took the plates back to the tray and set them down. He stood and undressed as Micah watched. Timberlin could see the adoration in Micah’s blue eyes, the perspiration beading on his forehead, and the color that touched his cheeks. Micah was so easily aroused by him and Timberlin loved it. He stood naked, ran one hand over his stomach to his cock and smoothed the flat of his hand over it, and then he crossed the floor to Micah and pulled him out of the chair.
“I have never been so scared in my life,” Timberlin said as his lips grazed Micah’s cheek.
“So was I,” Micah whispered and ran his hands over Timberlin’s back.
“I’m sorry. I know you were.”
“Not for myself,” Micah said, pulling back so he could look into Timberlin’s eyes. “I was afraid for you. I was afraid of how you would live, or wouldn’t live, without me.”
Timberlin chuckled. “Always thinking of me, aren’t you? Come here.” He tugged on Micah’s clothing and then dropped the ruined garments on the floor. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Look at your neck. Whatever that beast in the swamp was, it bit you. Does it hurt?”
Micah raised his hand to his neck and felt of the wound. “No, it doesn’t. Does yours?”
“Mine?” Timberlin felt of his own neck. “I hadn’t realized it was even there.”
Micah peeled off the rest of his clothing and led Timberlin to the tub. “You get in first and I’ll bathe you.” Timberlin didn’t need to be told twice.
Micah knelt on the floor at one end of the tub and picked up the bar of soap. He lifted it to his nose and inhaled, ah, French, he thought with a smile and then dipped the bar in the water and lathered his hands with it. He rubbed his soapy hands over Timberlin’s shoulders and down his chest, as Timberlin let his head fall back to rest on Micah’s shoulder. The hot water, the scented soap, the feel of Micah’s hands on his body, this was worth all the trouble he’d gone to in the swamp. Once he was clean, they switched places and Timberlin took his time washing Micah’s body. After he’d washed him thoroughly, he moved his hands back over Micah’s chest and stomach, while he nibbled his earlobe and moved his mouth to his neck and kissed him. His hands snaked their way over Micah’s stomach, moving lower until his finger wound in the hair at the base of his cock.
He felt Micah’s cock twitch in response to his touch and trailed his fingers over the length of it and Micah shifted so Timberlin could get a better grip. Timberlin moved his fingers over Micah’s dick to his balls, and then squeezed gently. He nibbled at Micah’s ear and whispered, “I think we better get you to bed.”
Micah accepted the hand Timberlin offered as he stood in the tub. Timberlin helped him out of the tub and then used a towel to dry him and led him to the bed. Timberlin sat on the edge and pulled Micah to stand between his knees, then wrapped both his arms around his narrow hips and buried his face in Micah’s stomach. He inhaled deeply and could feel Micah’s hands working over his shoulders and through his wet hair.
Timberlin kissed Micah’s damp skin, and with his tongue, he traced a line from his navel up to one nipple. Leaning back, Timberlin pulled Micah with him until he was lying down and Micah was on top of him. He took Micah’s face in both his hands and looked into his eyes, then kissed him softly. Timberlin’s tongue traced a line over Micah’s lips, and then slipped between them until he found Micah’s tongue. The kiss was a slow mating that heated quickly. Timberlin moved his hands over Micah’s body, down his back to his ass. He squeezed the twin globes in both hands as his tongue moved over Micah’s tongue. He flipped them over so Micah was beneath him and sucked one nipple into his mouth. Then Timberlin moved lower, sucking and nibbling Micah’s skin as he made his way to Micah’s dick. He threw Micah’s legs over his shoulders and sucked his cock deep into his mouth. Micah moved his hips in rhythm with Timberlin’s mouth and made short work of the orgasm building within him. As Micah came, Timberlin rubbed his hand over Micah’s ass until he found the puckered hole that he’d come to love so much.
He rubbed his fingers around the rim, knowing it increased Micah’s pleasure while he came, and when the orgasm subsided, Timberlin used Micah’s come to lubricate the tight hole. He inserted a finger, and then two and readied Micah for his dick. When he could fit three fingers inside Micah’s ass, Timberlin pressed the head of his cock against the opening and held Micah’s hips for leverage. He pressed his dick into Micah’s ready body as he used Micah’s hips to pull him toward him, and Timberlin groaned aloud as his cock sank into the warm, wet depths of Micah’s ass. He moved in and out, slowly at first, and when he felt his orgasm building, he increased the speed of his strokes. The bottoms of his feet tingled, his skin felt as if it were alive, and his blood raced loudly in his ears. The ball of heat that had formed low in his body, had his balls tightening up against him, and the heat was moving in all directions at once. Then Timberlin’s orgasm exploded through him as he shot himself into Micah’s waiting ass.
Timberlin collapsed on the bed beside Micah and panted, trying to catch his breath. Micah soothed him and stroked his body until Timberlin’s breathing returned to normal. “I love you,” Micah whispered.
“I know,” Timberlin said. “And I love you with all that I am.” He gathered Micah close to him and they fell asleep.

The moon rose full and bright over the city that night illuminating the buildings in long shadows. Timberlin opened his eyes and looked around. His body ached and he felt sick to his stomach. Moments later, Micah sat up beside him.
“How do you feel?” Timberlin asked.
“Not well. My muscles ache and I feel sick to my stomach. I feel feverish, too.”
Timberlin placed a hand on Micah’s forehead. “You are really hot. Too hot,” he said. “Those bites might have gotten infected. We need to find a doctor.”
“At this hour?”
“Come on, get dressed. I don’t want to wait till morning. If it is an infection, waiting will only make it worse.” Timberlin stood up beside the bed and suddenly pain shot through him. Every muscle contracted and his blood burned in his veins, as he fell to the floor. Micah hurried to help him, but as he leaned over, he cried out in pain. His muscles bunched beneath his skin, he felt as if his body was on fire, and he collapsed.
Both men writhed in pain and as quickly as it had begun, the pain abruptly ended. Timberlin sat up and looked at Micah, who was now trying to get to his feet. It was only then that he noticed Timberlin and stumbled backward and fell. He started to shout, but the only sound he made was a long, plaintiff howl, which startled him so much, he tripped over the bed and fell across it.
Timberlin looked down at himself and assessed the situation. He no longer had skin, but was covered in soft, black fur. He held his hands out before him and saw that they were more or less big paws, but with an opposable thumb. He felt his face and found he had a long snout, large fangs, and protruding ears. Trying to get to his feet, he stumbled over the size of them, but managed to stand, thankful that the ceiling was ten feet because there was only a foot or so between it and the top of his head. Marveling at his new body, he sat back on his haunches and noticed his tail wrap limply around his leg.
Timberlin looked at Micah, who was covered in soft, nearly snow-white fur, with a snout, fangs, ears, and paws very similar to his own. He tried to say something to Micah, but all that came out was a howl. And Timberlin knew this was not the best situation for them. With all the noise they’d made, he was surprised someone hadn’t already come to their room to see if everything was all right. He knew they had to get out of the hotel. And they had to do it without being seen.