Wednesday, September 28, 2016


Simply Irresistible
Christiane France

When Cal and Rob first met, they were star-struck, wet-behind-the-ears teenagers who thought all it took to make it in Hollywood was a great body and good looks. Cal eventually gave up the dream and became a reporter for an entertainment magazine, while Rob went on to become a major motion picture star.
Over the next few years, they broke up and got back together a dozen or more times. Then Rob hit a bad patch when Cal caught him with another man and kicked him out. Now, almost two years have passed without a word. Cal has no idea if Rob is even dead or alive, until Rob calls Cal’s boss out of the blue and offers to do an interview—on condition that Cal flies to England where Rob is living so they can talk face-to-face.
In view of their history, Cal knows he’s the best person to interview Rob, and so does his boss. But Cal is still in love with Rob and he knows the trip to London is likely to result in even more heartbreak.
…I noticed the tight, humorless smile on Rob’s face. The smile that said hell would freeze over before anything happened between us.
Then I remembered this was business. I was here in my professional capacity and at his insistence. If he’d brought me here for any reason other than the interview, it would be up to him to make the first move. And that showed no sign of happening any time soon.
My joy at seeing him again and every emotion I’d felt dissipated, fast. I should have expected something like this. It was almost two years since we’d split for good, and life moved on. His certainly had. He was back in England, living what appeared to be a very nice life in a better than average house. At a guess, I’d say he’d found someone new. He’d never liked living alone. But whatever! His personal life was no longer my concern.
I watched as he trailed a finger along the edge of the library table and wondered what he was thinking.
“So, when did you arrive? I expected you this morning.” His tone was cool, polite, and slightly chiding, like a doctor or a teacher letting you know you’d failed them in some way.
I explained about the unexpected length of the stopover in New York and then sleeping in until noon. I didn’t feel like apologizing, so I didn’t. None of it was my fault.
“Well, at least you’re here now.”
Rob hesitated, as if he didn’t know what to say next. Our final parting had been far from amicable. Things had been said that weren’t easily forgotten. In spite of that and the fact I was here on assignment and not as a friend, a brief hug would have cleared the air a little. But the moment had passed, and it was too late for that now.
“It’s nice to see you, Cal. I appreciate you coming over. How have you been? Well, I trust.”
I took a mental and then a physical step back. I hadn’t expected this to be easy. I knew meeting again was bound to feel a little awkward, maybe even downright difficult. If Rob thought we could avoid all that by keeping things formal, I wasn’t about to argue. Going by our history it was probably for the best. 

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Raindrops And Roses
Christiane France 


The day before Drew McEvoy is to fly home following a temporary work assignment in London, he trips going down the stairs to a teashop and is saved from injury by the quick thinking of Englishman, Michael Dawson. Michael sees Drew is a little shaken up by the incident, so he invites Drew to sit at his table to catch his breath and offers to buy him a cup of tea.

The chemistry is there from the word "go." Drew doesn’t know if it’s a momentary thing, or if it could turn into something more, and there’s not enough time for him to find out before he leaves. All he can do is hold onto the moment and stretch it out to the very last drop.

They leave the teashop and Michael surprises Drew by inviting him to have a drink at his flat, and then go somewhere for dinner. Drew knows the most they can have is a few hours together. This time tomorrow they’ll be thousands of miles apart. But there’s no point in him telling Michael that. After all, they’re just ships passing in the night, right?

…I don’t believe in insta-love or what some call love at first sight. But sometimes the chemistry between two people is so strong and so compelling it’s overwhelming. A time when normal commonsense takes a vacation and anything approaching rational thinking goes along with it for the ride.
For me, this was one of those times. And I knew he felt it, too. That’s why we continued to sit here, staring at one another like we were under a spell or something.
“Can I buy you a cup of tea?” he asked.
“Umm…” I tried to break eye contact and failed. I knew I was in trouble. If I had any sense, I’d make up an excuse and go, now, while I still had the chance. And do what? Wonder what if, wish I’d acted differently and then come back in the hope he was still here?
The waitress placed a pot of tea and a bowl of soup in front of Michael. “Your sandwich will be up in a minute,” she said before turning to me. “And what can I get for you, sir?”
“I…er…I don’t know. I…” I glanced around for inspiration, a menu, wishing I didn’t feel so unsure, so vulnerable, so completely unlike my normal self. I gripped the edge of the table in an effort to get my thoughts back on track. I don’t do flustered. I’m the calm, cool, collected type. The guy people turn to when things get out of hand and panic sets in.
“Bring him the same as what I’m having,” Michael interjected smoothly. “Thanks, Sara.”
The waitress left, and he reached under the table and laid a hand on my knee. “Are you alright?”
“I’m okay.” I forced a grin. “Just a tad discombobulated, as they say.” 

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Saturday, September 24, 2016

MySexySaturday - September 24, 2016 - The Rivals

September 24, 2016:

For this week’s edition of MySexySaturday I have seven paragraphs from THE RIVALS, a contemporary m/m romance.

By Christiane France


Rod Levins’ future as a newly qualified lawyer is anything but certain. After graduating with an above ninety-five-percent average, he’s in line for a job with the town’s number one law firm.

But so are three others, including the man Rod’s fantasized about for many months.

Jinks Jessop gives the impression he’s just as interested in Rod, but each time Rod makes a move, Jinks backs off. Is Jinks gay, straight, or simply one of his rivals for the job, amusing himself at Rod’s expense?

When it comes to both his career and his personal life, Rod knows that “wanting” and “getting” are not synonymous. But he can hope...

Then the third man stepped up to the plate and hit his first ball straight between Jinks and me. We both tried to catch it, but what with the fading light thanks to the impending storm and then what I figured had to be a cloudburst, the damn ball ended up in the dense jungle of trees and undergrowth that separated the park from whatever lay beyond.

Lightning zigzagged across the sky followed by a loud clap of thunder right above our heads. We were on the far side of the field, away from the rest of the players, and as they all headed for the shelter of their vehicles, Jinks grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bushes.
“We’ll get soaked if we try making a run for it,” he said. “But if we stay here under the trees, the most we’ll get is a bit damp.”
The rain was already dripping through the leaves and down my neck. “You think?”
“No, but I really don’t care. I don’t think you do, either. Huh?”
The wind had picked up, but I could feel his heat and smell his scent. He smiled, pulling me close and capturing my gaze. His normally well-groomed dark hair was a mass of wet curls and his five o’clock shadow stood out in sharp contrast to his pale face. It made him look a little wild and dangerous. It also made him look incredibly sexy. He began to knead my butt, moving in closer until his aroused shaft was pressing against my leg. I held my breath, silently begging him not to stop now. Then he ran a finger over my lips, and I blanked out. I forgot the storm raging around us. I forgot everything but the here, the now, and the realization that after today nothing would ever be the same again.
He slanted his mouth over mine, and I felt the seductive rasp of his unshaven skin against my face as his tongue slid between my lips, seeking, savoring. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight and wondering why one of us hadn’t taken the initiative before now. 

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Don’t forget this is a blog hop. You can check out all the other contributors’ blogs by following this link:
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Friday, September 16, 2016

MySexySaturday - September 17, 2016 - Crossing The Line -

For this week’s edition of MySexySaturday I have seven paragraphs from CROSSING THE LINE, a contemporary m/m romance. There is no magic in this book in the accepted sense, but when Alex falls for his chauffeur and realizes his feelings are reciprocated, they waste no time in making a little magic of their own.


Crossing The Line
Christiane France

Rather than embarrass his wealthy family by admitting he’s gay, Alexander Derkeston solved the problem by publicly conforming to their old fashioned, upright, uptight lifestyle, and inventing a second life on the side.
Even after his parents are killed in a traffic accident and the pretence is no longer necessary, Alexander still continues to follow family tradition and keep his private life private. Then the family chauffeur retires, and Wil Forrest is hired in his place.
For Alexander it’s love at first sight. Wil is everything Alexander has ever wanted. But Wil is an employee, and when he suggests the two of them go clubbing together, Alexander is horrified. Old Abner Derekston had two rules the family has always lived by: One, never cross the line by getting overly familiar with the help, not if you want to maintain their respect. And two, if you want something, go for it.
Is there a way Alexander can have his cake and eat it, too?

“…I’m not going to ask what made you change your mind. I hoped you would, and now I’m just glad you did. Really glad.”
The sudden brightness in Wil’s dark eyes and the depth of emotion in his voice caught Lex by surprise.
“You are? Why’s that?”

“Because…” Wil averted his gaze. “Obviously, you’re gay or you wouldn’t be here. Same goes for me, but…”
“But what?”
“I want you. I thought maybe you knew. I haven’t stopped imagining the two of us together since the first time I drove you to the store.”
“Really?” Lex felt a sudden heightening of tension between them, as if something was about to explode. He wanted Wil more than he’d ever wanted anyone. He’d wanted him for weeks; he just hadn’t admitted how he felt until today, and he hadn’t thought past that. Not for one moment had he stopped to think how Wil might feel. And even in his wildest dreams he wouldn’t have thought there was a chance the wanting might be mutual. “I had no idea. I…” 

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Don’t forget this is a blog hop. You can check out all the other contributors’ blogs by following this link:

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Thursday, September 15, 2016

Now available - FINDING THE TRUTH

Christiane France

The sequel to Looking For Answers…

After talking to one of the alleged victims, P.I. Marcus D’Angelo thought he’d finally solved the mystery surrounding the rumors of shakedowns and extortion in Little Italy involving Sal Ravello. His partner, magazine reporter Jake Reilly, isn’t so sure. He suspects what Marcus was told was more self-serving than true. After all, the informant bound to be feeling bitter. He’s still stuck in the old neighborhood with a failing business while his fellow victims have sold theirs and moved on to better things.

Marcus knows he can’t close the case without further investigation, but there’s something that concerns him even more than the possibility he was lied to. Jake has a new job that could mean him going on assignment to the Far East for several months. If this happens, can their relationship survive a long separation?

Jake sighed loudly and shook his head. “Don’t tell me. Bet it has something to do with that crazy business in Little Italy. Am I right?”
“Yup.” I took another sip of coffee and blew him a kiss. “And it’s all your fault. Yours and the chief’s.”
“What chief?”
I rapped my knuckles hard against my forehead. Shit! Me and my big mouth. Our local chief of police had come to me directly and requested I look into the rumors. He could do nothing officially due to lack of evidence, but with his son, Pete, and Sal’s son, Mitch, now a couple, he wanted the problem solved. He also wanted his name kept out of it for obvious reasons, so I’d let Jake think Mitch was my client.
“Our local police chief. He umm… Nothing the cops can do without proof, so he sort of referred the case to me to take a look,” I replied. It wasn’t a complete lie, just a slight re-arrangement of the truth.
“I see. And where did you get the idea that we’re at fault?” Jake asked, frowning.
“You said the only reason the butcher talked was because he felt bitter after the other victims sold their businesses and moved on. And the chief said, without proof, what I was told amounts to nothing more than hearsay. I know you’re both right and it’s made me stop and really think.”
“About what?”
“The rumors. They’ve been going around for years. No one seems to know if they’re true or if they’re completely false. If they’re true there must be evidence somewhere. And if they’re false, then something must have happened to start them.”
“What did the police think?”
“Nothing helpful.” I tapped my fingers against the surface of the table.” They investigated with every resource at their disposal when the original complaints were made and it got them precisely nowhere. They didn’t find a thing, not even the tiniest hint of any wrongdoing. But then you and I go visit the butcher, and bingo. It was like turning on a tap. All was revealed like it was no big deal, and I swallowed every last fucking word without question.”
“So now you’re having second thoughts? Or is that you’re feeling guilty for accepting what you were told without question?”
“A little of both, I guess.” I shrugged. “It’s like the chief said, the butcher could have heard what he told me second, third or even fourth hand, and a story like that loses nothing in the retelling. I assumed what we were told about the non-existent insurance policy was the basis for the rumors. It was possible, even plausible. People get greedy, and things like that happen all the time. But without confirmation, I have no way of knowing if it was or not.”
Jake frowned. “For all we know, the butcher made up the story as he went along. As a journalist, I learned the hard way that when someone relates a story about questionable activities in which they’ve played a part, they’re always very careful to show themselves in the best possible light.”
“You mean like rearranging the facts or even redirecting blame?”
“Happens all the time.” Jake shrugged. “And for obvious reasons it’s understandable. Basically what the butcher did, when he spun his little tale of the non-existent insurance policy, was to make sure that he came out smelling of roses. According to him, he and the other members of their little group were on the side of the angels. They disagreed with what the brother was doing and tried to make him see sense. At least that was his version of events.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what happened.”
“And maybe not. The only thing you can be sure of is that he was involved. Then you turn up, start asking questions, and hand him the perfect opportunity to wiggle his way out of any possible trouble.”
“You think that’s what he was trying to do?”
Jake took a sip of coffee. “I’m with you. I don’t know what to think or what to believe. For sure the butcher was a member of the group, he didn’t deny that. But does he know what he told you for an absolute fact? Was he actually there and heard it firsthand? Or was it stuff he got secondhand, filled in whatever blanks there were, and cobbled it all together as a story in the event someone asked?” 

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Looking For Answers
Christiane France
When P.I. Marcus D’Angelo is asked to investigate the rumors of shakedowns and extortions in Little Italy involving Sal Ravello, he enlists the help of new neighbor and unemployed news reporter, Jake Reilly. Peninsula Heights has never had a problem with organized crime and Marcus doubts they have one now. He figures it’s most likely a falling out among friends that’s turned into an old-fashioned vendetta. Whatever the cause, it’s the perfect opportunity for Marcus to find out if the attraction he feels for Jake is mutual or merely wishful thinking on his part. 
By the time the microwave pinged to announce dinner was ready, I’d decided I hadn’t a hope in hell of figuring it out by myself. I had nothing to work with except a feeling there was more behind it than stiffing old Sal out of a few bucks. If I was to accomplish what the chief wanted, I needed help.
I had other investigators who were good with the routine jobs such as stakeouts and skip tracing, but they didn’t have any actual investigative experience. I needed someone like Mr. Overseas News Service across the hall who undoubtedly did. A news reporter would be far more qualified than me to tap into gossip. Especially if the people he spoke with knew he was legit and thought there might be payment involved.
I decided to go over and talk to him. If he’d mentioned the rumors on the off chance I knew something, perhaps we could work something out. If not, maybe I could pique his curiosity into giving me a hand.
I took my dinner from the oven and put it on a tray along with a knife and fork. There were a couple of other interesting things about that chance meeting at the elevator I’d been wanting to follow up on… The little frisson of awareness that made it clear he was as interested as I was in more than a casual chat. Then, knowing he had my attention, I’d loved the bold way he’d said, ‘By the way, my name’s Jake Reilly. Maybe we can get together for a drink sometime soon.’
I quickly ate some gooey paste that tasted like cardboard even though the box informed me it was lasagna, and finished my beer. Then, before I could change my mind, I went across the hall and knocked. I couldn’t hear anything, but the peephole showed a light on inside. I decided to wait a couple of minutes. If he wasn’t home, I’d leave and come back later.
I was on the point of doing that when Jake opened the door wearing track pants and a ripped tee, and smelling like he’d just stepped out of the shower. “Hey, this is a surprise.”
“Hi, yourself. Marcus D’Angelo, right?”
He was taller than I remembered by several inches, and I just loved his smile. It was the kind that made me feel all warm inside and… “Umm. Yeah, that’s me.”
At least I think it is.
I took a deep breath in an effort to pull myself together. First impressions were important, and the last thing I wanted was to come across like a lunatic.
He raised an eyebrow. “You here to take me up on that drink?”
“I was hoping I can talk you into giving me a hand with something.”
“You want to hang a picture and need someone to hold the nail?”
“It’s a little more complicated that.”
“In that case, why don’t you come in?”
As Jake stepped back, I followed him into the apartment, then closed the door behind me. 
Christiane France
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Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Now available at All Romance eBooks - The Rivals


Rod Levins’ future as a newly qualified lawyer is anything but certain. After graduating with an above ninety-five-percent average, he’s in line for a job with the town’s number one law firm.

But so are three others, including the man Rod’s fantasized about for many months.

Jinks Jessop gives the impression he’s just as interested in Rod, but each time Rod makes a move, Jinks backs off. Is Jinks gay, straight, or simply one of his rivals for the job, amusing himself at Rod’s expense?

When it comes to both his career and his personal life, Rod knows that “wanting” and “getting” are not synonymous. But he can hope...


...I was back in my office, reading over some old class notes on estate planning in preparation for my next appointment, when Jinks came in. He closed the door, dropped a file on my desk and came around behind my chair to sit on the window ledge.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I hear you went to lunch with Stew Chetley. How could you do that?”

Jink’s question struck me as blunt to the point of rudeness. I swung my chair around to face him. “What’s the problem? You jealous?”

“Jealous?” His mouth dropped open and he just stared at me for a second. “God, no! You think I’m jealous because you had lunch with that sleazebag? You must be joking. What I meant was, I can’t imagine putting food in my mouth and getting pawed by him all at the same time.” He shuddered. “The mere thought makes me want to throw up. I hope it wasn’t too awful.”

I smiled. “It was fine.”


“Well, we didn’t have a cozy tête-à-tête in some dark, romantic bistro, if that’s what you’re thinking. We had lunch with his accountant to discuss the offer, which, by the way, has now gone belly up.”

“Oh, well, in that case…” He stood as if to leave, but then he hesitated, frowning. “Why on earth would you think I’d be jealous over you having lunch with Chetley?”

“A couple of reasons, I guess.” I gave an offhand shrug, aware I needed to choose my words very carefully. “He’s your dad’s client, you’re neighbors, and you move in the same social circles. I don’t know. I thought there was a chance he might be…how do I put it? Your special friend, perhaps?”

“My what?”

From the look on his face, I wasn’t sure if Jinks was about to pass out or explode. Then he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close until our bodies were touching. His eyes were half-closed and dark as night. I could hear him breathing. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest. My heart was pounding, too, so hard I didn’t dare move.

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