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Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Book Day Wednesday

Making a Splash is out today!  This is a reprint and I'd like to thank Dreamspinner Press for giving the book a new home and new life.

There's an excerpt here, and I'll post a smutty one on Smutterday!

Making a Splash

After a scandal of Olympic proportions, Vince Dawson lost his job as a diving coach and is on a downhill slide. So when he sees Austin Brody at a local pool, diving like a trained athlete, he thinks he’s found his ticket back to the big leagues.

Austin thinks Vince is crazy for wanting him to dive competitively. He dives for beer and smokes, while working double shifts as a welder. Still, he’ll give training with Vince a shot.

But Austin isn’t willing to let Vince rule his life, and Vince—used to hopeful young athletes folding under pressure from him—finds Austin baffling… and hot. Even if they can work together and become more than friends, they still have a long way to go before they’ll be ready to compete.

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Austin frowned, searching the bedside table. Man, it was bright for evening. Oh, man. Morning.


“Austin. Hey, there, it’s Vince. You ready to rock?”

“What time is it?” He blinked over at the clock, which was blinking 12:00. “Man, there a storm last night?”

“I don’t think so. It’s 9:00 a.m. Is something wrong? You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

“No. Damned lights went out. I musta slept all night. You find us somewhere to go?” He got up, went to shave, lighting up as he went.

Oh. Wow. Shaky.



“Yeah, I’ve got us a space. You sure you okay?” Vince sounded concerned.

“Yeah. Just need food. Slept through any sort of snack.” He usually had something around nine or ten. He grabbed a Snickers bar and munched away.

“I did some research. We’re good with the diabetes, but you’ve got to eat, Austin. Especially with the activity you’re going to be doing. Why don’t I come get you in a half hour—that enough time?”

“Uh-huh. Got a Snickers. I’m good. I’ll jump in the shower.” He grabbed his toothpaste, his toothbrush.

Vince snorted. “We’re going to have to have a talk about your diet, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you in thirty.”

He hung up, jumped in the shower, and started soaping up. Too fucking bad he didn’t have time to jack off. Vince was a babe. A little old, sure, but hot. Fuck him raw. The guy was a stud—nice muscles, pretty eyes, good hands. A nice deep voice. And the man sure had a hard-on for diving.



For money and shit. Damn. It was weird as hell. A guy goes to the pool to goof off and ends up talking to a fucking Olympic coach.

He hopped out, grabbed a pair of trunks and jeans, and started drying off. There was a knock on the door, bright and cheerful somehow.

“It’s open.” He tugged the jeans on and started hunting for a T-shirt. Man, it was so laundry day.

Vince came in, looking good in a pair of tight jeans and a shirt, buttoned all the way up, tie around his neck.

“Man, you look good. Tie and all. Want a Pop-Tart?”

“Gotta impress the peeps.” Vince winked at him. “Snickers bars? Pop-Tarts? I thought you were diabetic?”

“I am.” He grabbed his glucometer, his syringes. “I’ll shoot up.”

Vince laughed. “Yeah, I’ll have a Pop-Tart. I’m serious about the diet thing. I’ll do your shopping for you if I have to—you need to be in top physical shape, and Pop-Tarts don’t cut it for breakfast if you’re working hard for eight hours a day.”

“You want brown sugar or strawberry?” He fished out the box, checked his sugars: 230. Bleh.

“Strawberry. We’ll go through the drive-through at Burger Barn on our way to the pool.”

Oh, excellent. Pop-Tarts and sausage biscuit. “Where are we going? Waco? Austin? The one here in town?”

“The one here in town. We’ll move on to the big leagues once we’ve got some sponsors.” Vince looked pleased. Happy made the man even hotter.

“’Kay.” He took his shot and scarfed down his breakfast and a glass of milk. Man, it was almost ten.
“You ready?” He had to be to work in twelve hours.

Vince licked crumbs off his lips and nodded. “Yeah. I can’t wait to put you through your paces.”

“That sounds ominous.” Not to mention fun. He stretched, back creaking and popping. “Let’s go play.”

Vince laughed. “I do like you, Austin.”

The truck was parked out front, and Vince got him settled, then headed around to climb in the driver side.

“So, what’s the plan, Stan?” He wasn’t sure what this whole thing was supposed to be like.

“I’m literally going to put you through your paces. You’ll show me everything you can do, and then we’ll sit down and decide what we need to work on. At lunch we can set up a workout/diving schedule and a menu. And I’ll go over my plan of attack for the sponsors with you, make sure you’re okay with the people I’m going to talk to.” Vince pulled out into the traffic and headed for the pool.

“Oh.” Okay. Good thing he got some sleep last night. “Cool. I don’t have, like, a gym membership or nothing. That’s cool, right?”

“I’ve got some weights at home, and you’ve got the trampoline—that’ll do for now. We’ll make do for a few weeks, and by then we’ll have the sponsors starting to throw us the money.” Vince winked at him as he parked. “I’ll get that contract to you tomorrow—you have someone who can look it over for you?”

“Yeah.” Uncle Jack had gone to paralegal school once. That would work.

“Good.” Vince put a hand in the small of Austin’s back and led him in. “So this place has a five-meter platform. You know how to dive from a platform?” There was a twinkle in Vince’s eyes that said the man was teasing.

“The nonbouncy diving board? Yeah. You can do tricks easier off those, but I like the bouncing too.” Hell, he liked diving. He liked the shock of hitting the water, the rush right before, the whole thing.

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