an excerpt from the new book

The Peacock and the Firebird, available from Torquere Press
www.torquerepress.com

Anthony is a maskmaker. Santino is a wealthy modern Venetian who has hired him to make masks for mid-summer. They have a definite attraction, but is it real, or is it an echo of the past?

***

"I am sorry. I think it was more of a rendezvous chamber. A..." he paused, searching for the words. "A love nest."

"Oh."

That caused Antonio to blush, which made Santino smile and move closer, brushing shoulders. "Oh. Yes. I the Lord of the house had liaisons he wanted to keep secret. Will it shock you if I tell you that all of the clothing I found in the trunks here were for men? For many different sizes of men in fact."

"Don't be silly, Santino. I've already opened my fat yap and told you how attractive you are. I think that makes it obvious that I agree with the Lord of the house."

Those fine cheeks were bright red, but Antonio looked at him from under dark lashes, flirtatiously, he thought. Irresistible. Putting an arm around Antonio's waist, Santino turned them both so they faced one another.

"Good. I do as well, you know." He laughed. "Of course you know. I all but admitted I got you tipsy to take advantage of you."

"I wish you had been able to."

Eyes wide, as if he could not believe he said it, Antonio stared at him. So close, those eyes and cheeks and lips, and Santino could not resist kissing them. All of them, pressing light kisses to Antonio's eyes as they closed, one of each cheek, then gnetly on the lips.

Soft and sweet, Antonio's lips, and they opened for him, letting him in. Santino would not resist such an invitation, how could he, and he pushed inside Antonio's mouth with his tongue, tasting wine and heat and spice. Antonio returned the kiss with enthusiasm, hands coming up to hold him in place, aggressive suddenly, pushing against him.

They hit the wall beside the door and the torch in his hand hit the floor, shattering, pieces of plastic scattering wildly. The sound and motion seemed to jolt Antonio, who pulled away, staring at him. Lips swollen, hair mussed, Antonio was the very picture of sudden passion, making Santino's prick throb in his trousers.

"I want you."

"I..." Poor Antonio looked so confused, both aroused and frightened. "I don't do this."

"What?"

"Kiss strange men. Have sex with a client. Any of this."

"But you want to." Please. Please say yes, he thought.

"Yes. Yes I do."

"Thank God."