Showing results by author "K.M. Neuhold" in All Categories

I didn’t know the house I broke into belonged to a mafioso, and now my revenge arc is a lot more complicated. 7 years ago, I died. Nameless, forgotten, left in a ditch after an overdose. I don’t know who saved me or why. God? Satan? A good Samaritan whose name I'll never know? It doesn't really matter. I don’t know who I used to be. My name, my past, they were buried. But somehow, I'm still here. I'm not the only one the Sleepless Reapers have used and abused, but I will be the last, if I have anything to say about it. I don’t need the attention of a mafioso.

Blurb I’m just a nerd, standing in front of a bench press, asking it not to humiliate me in front of my gym crush I’ve never walked into a gym on purpose in my life, and I’m not sure which part is more shocking, the massive beefcake who immediately challenges me to arm wrestle or the fact that I kind of want to come back. I spent years of my life refusing to lift anything heavier than a textbook, and it shows. I never expected that coming to the gym and bulking up would give me more gender euphoria than all the T shots in the world.

Forcing Salvatore Moretti to marry me at gunpoint isn’t the craziest thing I've ever done... I hate being desperate, being scared. It's a filthy, helpless feeling. I'd much rather be enraged, violent… unhinged. Salvatore watches me dance and calls me Angioletto, his little angel. He doesn't know the demons that haunt me. He's too blinded by my beauty to see the blood on my hands. Then again, he's a mafia capo, so maybe the blood wouldn't bother him anyway. My past is like fire licking at my heels, ready to consume me. But Sal won't let that happen, he’ll protect me. He has to.

I'm a list person. Lists make sense, they give a chaotic, unpredictable world order. Realizing I was gay at 30 definitely wasn't on my list. I guess I need a new list….

The thing about guys is that we communicate on a physical, primal level. A hearty slap on the backside just means “good game, bro”. Some good old fashioned roughhousing just means we’re comfortable with each other. Some late night stress relief? Just dudes being dudes… Right? We’re just friends. Just roommates. Just a couple of guys doing what guys do. So what if I can’t stop thinking about kissing him? Is there a way I can “no homo” my way out of this? If I'm really honest with myself, I don't think I even want to. So… maybe YES, homo?

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him.

Pete doesn’t think he’s fit for island life, but he doesn’t know Palm Island like I do. He might think it’s all drinking on the beach and bed-hopping, but maybe if I can show him the beauty and freedom underneath it all, he might decide to stay.

Love, pain, and ink. The men of Heathens Ink Tattoo Studio have a lot to work through, but they always do it together. From Ashes - I didn't have anything to live for, until a kind stranger pulled me back from the brink. With physical and emotional scars, I have nowhere to turn now but to that same stranger who saved my life without realizing it. But as my feelings for Adam grow, will I ever be anything other than a surrogate for the brother he couldn’t save? Am I even worthy of his love?

He hated me from the second he laid eyes on me, and I don't have the first clue why.... But, if he wants to hate me, I'm happy to give him a few reasons: mowing the lawn at dawn on the weekend, leaving garbage cans in front of his driveway, renting a petting zoo for my backyard...making a list of ways to drive him crazy is half the fun.

It took me over 35 years to admit to myself that I’m gay, another seven to find the courage to say it out loud to anyone else, and exactly 30 seconds to develop a massive crush on my daughter’s music teacher. It’s really not my fault. Have you even seen those cute bowties he wears? After everything it’s taken to get here, am I going to work up the nerve to come out to my ex-wife and my best friends?

Is there such thing as love at first bar fight? I may be small and pretty, but what I lack in intimidation factor, I make up for in violence. I made a vow five years ago that the motorcycle club responsible for my brother’s death would pay the price, and I’m finally ready to collect. May God have mercy on the men who hurt my brother, because I don’t plan to.

I feel like I've been fighting my whole life, and tapping out has never been an option. I can live with owing money to the Morettis. I can even live with the constant guilt that my brother is the one paralyzed in a hospital bed while I live his dream. What I can't live with is Elio Moretti, second in command to the infamous crime family, showing up to all my fights, sitting in the front row, watching me like he can't look away, and barging into the locker room to patch up my wounds and invade my space.

That Feeling when the man you just robbed and left tied up and blindfolded turns out to be in the mafia… I'm not proud of the things I've had to do for money to pay off my dad's debts and put my younger brother through college. But I'll never regret it. What I do regret is accidentally robbing a Moretti. Having to look over my shoulder and ducking every time a car backfires is bad enough, but when the man in question starts costing me business? Yeah, I think we’re going to have a problem.

The last thing I want is another relationship or another broken heart. All I need are my bees and the occasional hookup to scratch the itch. Okay, maybe meeting up with my hot contractor weekly is a little more than occasional. And maybe the way I’m starting to feel about the guy I’ve been anonymously chatting with online should concern me. But CaulkyAF doesn’t want to meet, and Cole doesn’t want anything serious, so what’s the worst that could happen?

When half your face is covered in a big, blotchy birthmark, you get used to the staring and the whispers. You get used to feeling unwanted. Until he walks into my bar.... Tall, gorgeous, and all kinds of out of place. And the way he looks at me ain’t like no way I've ever seen before.

Saying I've had a crush on my best friend's older brother, Pax, most of my life is like saying the big bang was just an explosion. It's true, but I'm not sure that quite captures the essence of its true enormity. I don't think my advanced physics knowledge is going to help me figure this one out. But I think for once I'm okay with not knowing, as long as Pax and I don't know together.

I came to Palm Island two seasons ago, confused about my life and desperate for a change. The island drew me in, but I’m still not sure why. Maybe it’s time I cut my losses and go back home, back to med school like I always planned. But when the breathtaking, flirtatious, tattooed bartender I’ve been crushing on for ages offers to let me room with him this off-season, there’s no way I’m leaving now.

Stud: A boss, knob, or nail head...or, you know, the hot guy who’s way too young to keep asking me out with that adorably earnest smile...It’s been three years since West walked into my bar and asked me out for the first time. I was relieved he stopped asking after the first few “no's" and a way-too-good-to-be-real kiss. He’s 15 years younger than I am; it can only lead to trouble.

I never thought a night out could change everything. All I wanted was to dance, drink, maybe take a cute guy home for a night of fun. I met the guy, but the night ended as a nightmare. Screams and blood and tragedy haunt my dreams. I'm alive and I owe it all to the gorgeous marine who refused to leave me for dead. But how can I start a new relationship when I'm not even sure who I am anymore?

Sex has never been my main priority. Not what people expect to hear from someone who’s been head camera man for the single best studio in the kind of industry I work in. I thought I’d seen it all working for the Ballsy Boys, but helping to build the Kinky Boys from the ground up seems like it’s going to be an eye opening experience. A man has never turned my head before, so why can’t I stop checking out Daddy? Sex might not be the height of excitement for me, but watching subs kneel for their Daddies certainly has me wondering....