Greetings!  “FRENZY!” is the brand new installment in my explosively HAWT “Nothing Can Tear Us Apart” series of novels.  “FRENZY!” is all about Wes and ‘Tonio, two star-crossed lovers who must confront severe obstacles that thrown their relationship into dire jeopardy. 

     “FRENZY!”  is chock full of masculine romance, intrigue, danger, twists and turns…and not to mention off-the-hook sexually provocative encounters!  Hell yeah!

     Now, here’s my special treat to you–and it’s in two parts!  First, here’s the 411 on the red-hot “FRENZY!”–

     What would you do after the man of your dreams battered you because he believed you’d been unfaithful?  Could you forgive this man to whom you’ve given every piece of your heart?

    Desirable, wealthy gay/SGL African-American celebrity Wesley (Wes) Laurence Kelly yearns for a gratifying and enduring love.  Unfortunately, it has slipped through his fingers.  Repeatedly.

    Enter Antonio (‘Tonio) Miguel Rios, a deliciously muscular gay/SGL Puerto Rican whom Wes has hired as his bodyguard.  He, too, has failed at love.  Miserably.

    But without warning, that magical, irrefutable and irresistible force known as chemistry totally engulfs the pair!  They forge a strong bond. However, they’re still too afraid to act on their escalating romantic feelings and sexual urges.

    Soon though, Wes and ‘Tonio break down and profess their love!

    However, a mysterious individual throws their monogamous relationship in dire jeopardy!  This vicious entity manipulates ‘Tonio into believing that Wes is being unfaithful.

    Taking the bait, the FRENZY!-ed bodyguard physically brutalizes his soul mate!  This results in Wes kicking ‘Tonio to the curb.

    And that–along with childhood sexual abuse–cause Wes to split, to become another personality: “Walker”!  The polar opposite of Wes, Walker has a heart of ice!  And, Walker’s deadly to the very core.

    Does Wes reclaim himself?  And, what secrets are buried deep inside ‘Tonio?

    But, most importantly: can Wes and ‘Tonio work their way back to one another?  And, can they still vow that “Nothing Can Tear Us Apart?”

      Part Two is the extended version of the excerpt, “The Interview.”  Freakin’ enjoy!

 

     Celebrity and entrepreneur Wesley Laurence Kelly meets Antonio (‘Tonio) Miguel Rios, Jr. for the very first time when he interviews him for his Chief of Security position.

     Y’all, Rios was a fuckin’ sight to behold!  A ruggedly handsome brickhouse, he was 6’4”, 280 muscularly immense pounds. 

     Massively built and exquisitely proportioned, Rios was, hands down, a bodybuilder’s bodybuilder.  Powerful, wide neck.  Barn door shoulders. Bowling ball biceps.  Horseshoe triceps.  Chiseled, expansive, impeccable pecs.  Narrow, firm waist. 

     And the way his jeans fit.  Daymn!  I could detect that he owned humongous glutes and calves…and (gleefully) something else.  Sumthin’ else, indeed. 

     The stud was clad entirely in black—shirt, jazzy (but tasteful) tie, formfitting jeans, and kick-ass cowboy boots.  Masculinity with touches of sensitivity oozed outta him!  I was fuckin’ taken aback– which usually doesn’t happen often.   I felt I was losing control.   I had to regain it.  Like yesterday.    

     “It’s a ‘pleasuah’ (pleasure) ta meet’cha, Mr. Kel-lee,” Rios smiled, broadly.  That 100-watt grin could’ve lit up all of Washington, D.C.  

     Immediately extending his power-packed mitt, he followed with, “Thanks so much for dis opportunity!”  “Stud Man” had this syrupy, so sensual, low baritone with a full heapin’ helpin’ of Latin accent stirred in for good measure.

     And his eyes!  A liquid blue-green, they appeared to be as endless as an ocean… sucking you right in!  They peered deep inside, searching for the real you.  I swore they seemed to have a life of their own… 

     Rios had a caramel-tinged complexion, and short, curly, jet-black hair.  His sideburns connected to a neatly trimmed goatee, which in turn merged into his ‘stache.  He had these full lips, which begged you to kiss them.   Mos’ def!

     And his handclasp!   Gawd.  It was warm.   Supremely confident.  Well-manicured, those hands were like meat cleavers–so thick, so sturdy, and so powerful.   His touch, his grasp, made my whole freakin’ body tingle through and through!   Nobody—and I do mean nobody—had touched me that way in what seemed like fuckin’ eons!   I swallowed hard. Dang!  Hot in here.         

     Floating back to earth, I responded, “I…I’m sure the pleasure is ALL MINE, Mr. Rios.  Welcome.”  Not to be outdone, I returned a formidable clasp of the palm myself.  

     Then, without warning, our eyes seemed to zoom into each other, like heat-seeking missiles!  After reaching their final destination, they settled into the lockdown position.  And all of a sudden, that ole magical thang called chemistry burst forth, spinning around– totally engulfing us!  The sensation was electric, hard-hitting, exciting…though downright scary!

     Hmmmm…I could swear he was checkin’ me out, scopin’ me, as well.  And I noticed him noticing my erection.  (Yo!  I’ve got a “Big Whopper”–and I ain’t talkin’ Burger King!  LOL.)  The muscle stud’s eyes stretched wide for more than just a few seconds… 

      “Mr. Kel-lee,” Rios offered, “Puleeze…call me Antonio.”   

     “Thanks, ah, Antonio,” I responded.  Geesus, his name sounded so divine falling off my lips.  He was marinating in Givenchy’s Grey Flannel (the light blue liquid version), one of my favorites.  Not too much, just enough to tease, to tantalize.  And Lawd, he had this pleasant cinnamon-spearmint breath!

    As I chatted with “Mr. Man,” the chemistry between us was becoming red hot, deliciously intense.  It had gripped me so tight it made me wanna holla!  Antonio radiated such pure animal magnetism…along with enticing, sensitive masculinity.  This attraction, although irrefutably appealing, was intoxicating, bordering on the overwhelming!

     In other words, these sensations were exhilarating, dizzying; but at the same time, somewhat unnerving.  And daymn!  Our eyes were still bearing down on one another. 

     “Oh, Lawd,” I thought, “was he feelin’ what I was feelin’?  He had to be!  Well…wasn’t he?”

     Breaking eye contact for a few seconds, I announced, “Antonio (Whoa!  Once again, that name sounded sooooooo good dripping from my lips.), let’s adjourn to the library.”  Walking side by side, we reached the room.  Opening the doors, I ushered him in. 

    Glad I did, because I was rewarded with an absolutely mouthwatering sight!  Antonio had this phine “basketballbubblebuttazz!”  Pushing through his pants.  Perfectly round.  Beefy and meaty.  Bootylicious.   Ready to be squeezed…and PLUNDERED!  (Ya see, as an “azz connoisseur,” I’m an expert on these affairs.  LOL.)                                              

     I was teased even further when he sauntered into the library.  His musclebootybutt jiggled ever so slightly, ever so nicely, in his tight black jeans. Meanwhile, I had to quickly adjust Mr. Woody in an attempt to conceal my burning, growing arousal.  (You do know what part of the anatomy to which I’m referring, right?  Sho’ ya do.)

     “Antonio, please have a seat,” I invited, motioning to the sofa opposite the mahogany desk.  I climbed into the leather chair behind it, picking up his resume. 

     As I scanned his resume, I became aware of “BigGuy’s” (my later nickname for him) eyes inspecting, dissecting, and analyzing me.  He was trying to read me, workin’ to figure out what I was thinking…about him.  Meanwhile, the mounting, swelling sensations (Hell, in more ways than one, if you catch my drift!) I was experiencing were inflaming my potent, pent-up desires.

     I became lightheaded!  Beads of sweat formed on my forehead.   My left wrist, with the Rolex wrapped around it, began to sweat and itch.  And, the chilled Evian I was sipping in earnest couldn’t seem to wash away the parched feeling that had stubbornly claimed my throat.

     Then, all of a sudden, in that moment, my mind stumbled into a dense fog.  I began to fantasize, have “NASTEE” thoughts about Antonio, which went sumthin’ like this:

     Ahhh, yes…both of us butt nekkid, him doggy style, perched on my broad mahogany desk.  Ahhh…me kneeling, with his bubblebuttbootyliciousazz all up in my face…me swathed in delicious anticipation while I’m stroking, fondling and squeezing that marvelously round, voluptuous treasure. 

     Me, salivating, as I’m slowly, so deliberately parting the tepid, lusciously solid muscle cheeks…squeezing them, prying them W-I-D-E open!  Him enthralled in passion, vocalizing erotic murmurs. 

     Me, after thoroughly licking and lapping the entirety of that musclebooty, for what seemed like forever–and two days…me skillfully and leisurely delving my tongue so deeply in and out, in and out of the tight, lush, moist “valley” of that bubblebuttbootyliciousazz!   Me, becoming even more aroused by the exquisite sensations inspiring and driving Antonio to grunt and groan, shake, rattle and roll…him forcing my head ever closer into his glorious “musclebootytreasuretrove” (The Butt!  The Bum!  The Posterior!  Dat azz.)… 

     Me, after finishing my delectable, tasty feast and at the zenith of my nasteeness, carefully and totally lubing up the entrance to BigGuy’s valley, which had the heat and moisture you could liken to a tropical rain forest.  Next, me slipping on a black latex “raincoat,” and…