Showing posts with label BA Tortuga. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BA Tortuga. Show all posts

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Setting His Sights by BA Tortuga





Setting His Sights
Fearless 6
BA Tortuga

Genre: Gay Romance, action adventure

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication: July 1, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-945193-20-0

Word Count: 20000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

Book Description:

Trey’s waited long enough to take what he needs.

Trey Jamison leads an elite mercenary team that specializes in snatch and grabs. Things have been going well – well enough that he’s letting himself notice Kai Tanaka, fellow Texan and team long-range sniper.

Kai hasn’t made any secret of his attraction to Trey. But the boss is the boss, and it isn’t until the team gets compromised and Kai is captured during a job that Trey lets himself admit the feelings he has for his captured teammate.


Excerpt:

Kai liked when the team spent their downtime together.
Oh, he was probably the only one. He knew Jagger hated to sit still for even five seconds, and Cyrus started to look for a fight after about twelve hours of confinement, but being with the team gave him a real sense of belonging. Not only that, but sitting still was his motherfucking job. Sit and wait, then fire.
Maybe because he usually worked alone out in the field. When they were holed up in a temporary headquarters, he got to listen to them all chatter, got to sit and clean his weapons and watch Trey Jamison out of the corner of his eye.
The boss was a beautiful piece of work, all hard muscle and blond hair. Not bulky, no. Just tall and built like a brick shithouse. Those sharp blue eyes missed nothing, except maybe the way Kai admired the man.
Then again, Trey was his team leader, so maybe it was best that he ignored Kai’s longing glances, huh?
“You stroke your dick like you do that weapon?” Danny asked him. Their resident pilot was the living stereotype of an adrenaline junkie helo man. He played the drums on every available surface, and he always seemed to be moving half a second faster than everyone else.
“You don’t really want to know what I do with my dick, do you?” Kai asked, then waggled his tongue at Danny in a lewd fashion.
“Ew. No. Don’t tell.”
“Then don’t ask,” Kai rejoined. They talked trash like that all the time, but Kai had a good idea that Danny knew which way Kai’s gate swung, and Danny had always been decent about it.
“No problem.” Danny flicked at his hair and danced away. “Why are we in a holding pattern again?”
“Trey says our last job is gonna lead to another. We just need intel.”
“I need to go get laid,” Jagger grumbled, arms crossed over his wide chest, chin down. Kai had thought he was asleep. “We should get at least a three-day out of that little crazy thing we just rescued.”
The girl in Mexico had been a piece of work, convinced that some Mexican drug lord was her biological father instead of just someone holding her for ransom because her real daddy was a higher up in the DEA or some shit. Maybe the house on the beach and lots of jewelry had been a good incentive for a rebellious teen. Said drug lord had promised her horses to ride, too.
Maybe all girls really were horse crazy.
“Y’all just need to sit tight.” Trey strode into the room, tossing a basketball at Cyrus. “Or go blow off some steam and get some exercise. But no one leaves the compound.”
“That sucks ass.” Jagger rose, then reached over to snag the ball from Cyrus. “Come on, you. I need to kick some ass if I can’t have some.”
“Who’s the hand-to-hand expert?” Cyrus retorted, chasing Jag out the door.
“Yeah, I think I’ll go with them,” Danny said and wandered outside, whistling a tuneless song.
“Not you?” Trey asked.
“Nah.” Kai indicated his rifle. “There’s always maintenance to do. I’m the one guy you don’t want jamming on you.”
“True enough.” Trey grabbed a clipboard off a peg hanging on the wall and started doing inventory. “Anything you need replaced?”
“Nope.” All he wanted to do was sit and watch Trey. Beautiful bastard. Kai would take that in a heartbeat, bend over, and just let Trey fuck him senseless. Yum. “So, what’s this job look like?”
“I don’t know yet, Kai. I mean, the lead sounds good, and the money is solid. We’re still at the waiting stage, though. Definitely a retrieval. Not Mexico. South America, maybe.”
“Damn.” All that heat and humidity were hell on his rifles. Then again, desert jobs in the Middle East played havoc, too.
“Sucks to be you, huh?” Trey winked, then went back to work. “I just figured there was no sense letting y’all scatter and have to hunt your asses down.”
Kai bit back his reply about how Trey could hunt his ass anytime. Danny might be a good target for sexual jokes, but Trey was not. “I never go that far.”
“Nope. You’re damned boring, man. Still, I like that can depend on you, bro. I appreciate it.”
The little glow of pride he felt probably should have been humiliating. Crumbs to the good puppy. Kai had given up shame for Lent years ago, though, and he grinned with a flush of pleasure. “I like to be available.”


About the Author:

B.A. Tortuga Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy's Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she's not doing that, she's writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting, and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA's personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.

Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.

For more information on other books by B.A., visit her official website:







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Thursday, November 22, 2012

Fighting Addiction by BA Tortuga



I spent three months this summer living, breathing, and writing songwriters, so it only made sense that I write a few songs of my own.

I have to admit, the science behind songwriting is fascinating – I haven’t counted so many syllables since my last senior poetry class in college. ;-) It took a number of tries, but eventually I kind of got the hang of it. Hell, you might say I learned to enjoy it, although I’m not sure that songwriting is going to be my next career. ;-)

One of the important original songs in Fighting Addiction is Markus Kane’s biggest hit, Silent Love. I am incredibly grateful that, of all the songs I messed up, the boys came me this one so that I could share it with you. I’m incredibly proud of it and will be taking guitar lessons so that I can write the music for the lyrics.

Much love!

BA

***
Silent Love

Red dirt roads and
Sun soaked days
All the while things were turning
Moving like a
Record plays.

In the night, stars were blazing
Shot through the sky
Rocket fast
Knew life would make me crazy
Took a stumble
Couldn't last.

Chorus:
Lost my voice. Gave you my song.
All I got is whispers.
You're on the stage, singing strong
My mouth's covered, leather glove
My lips moving without
Giving breath to silent love.

Now you're soaring like a bird
Flying higher
Out of sight.
All that's left is love I heard
From your guitar
Taking flight

Chorus.

Bridge:

I knew I was your white knight
I knew I was your man
But we couldn't bear the spotlight
I had to let go of your hand.

Chorus.






Fighting Addiction
BA Tortuga

Genre: contemporary, m/m
Publisher: Torquere Press

ISBN: 978-1-61040-377-1

Number of pages: 250
Word Count: 64000

Cover Artist: BSClay



Book Description:

Country hat act Markus Kane is pretty skeptical when one of his oldest industry friends calls and asks him to do a joint tour. He and Seb haven’t seen each other in years, not since Markus quit drinking. Maybe not since he and Sebastian Longchamps almost lost their careers to the fact that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Sebastian is a country-fried Cajun rocker, and he’s been missing Markus ever since they broke up all those years ago. His label thinks he and Markus are a match made in ticket-sales heaven, but Seb knows better. He knows that it won’t take even the tiniest effort for Markus to break his heart all over again, and this time around he has way more to lose.
Time has changed both men, though, and while Markus and Seb try to fight their addictions, the big music industry machine has plans for them that don’t include the quiet life. Can Markus convince Sebastian that there are things more important in life than adrenaline and control? And can Sebastian make Markus understand that all he really wants is his music and his man?

Excerpt

Markus wiped his hands on his jeans. The place was an island paradise, and he felt seriously overdressed, but this was a business meeting first, right? He'd chosen jeans, boots, and a white shirt, no starch. That was his concession to the tropical location. 

Later, when he was sure he and Seb could still see eye to eye on anything, he'd bust out the board shorts and flip flops. 

Jesus, why was he suddenly so fucking nervous? This was Seb. There wasn't much Markus hadn't known about the man, once upon a time. From the way Seb whistled in his sleep to the way those muscled shoulders looked when the hot little son of a bitch was on his knees sucking cock. 

Oh. Bad image. 

No remembering that, not in these jeans.

Seb came in the door, the tiny bald fucker wearing a pair of gauzy pants that hung so low Markus could see the hipbones holding them up, an LSU T-shirt, and a pair of dark sunglasses on. "Candy! Damn, man!"
"Hey, Seb!" He shook the man's hand, not sure if anything else was appropriate.

"You look great, dude. Happy, healthy. You get some sleep?" Seb tugged him in, gave him a solid man hug, hand slapping his back.

"I did." Seb smelled like coconut and musk. God, that was yummy.

"Excellent." Seb stepped back, grinned. "So fucking glad you showed. Have a seat. Did Bev take care of you?"

"She's been great." Hell, he'd had everything he could ever want. Seb's assistant had even taken the wet bar out completely, just leaving juices and sparkling water. The woman was inhumanly efficient.

"She's a champ." Seb settled in a chair across from him, muscles rippling under the thin T-shirt. "So, Jack says you have demands. Demand away."

Markus blinked, trying to remember what all he'd wanted to talk on. "Well, Tawny has dealt with all the advertising equality and all that bullshit."

Seb waved one hand. "If the suits had a problem with that shit, we wouldn't be here. I know that. I'm not looking to fuck you over, man. I just want to make some music and some money."

"I know that." He rolled his eyes. Blunt little fuck. "I also know you're a control freak. We write the EP together. We do at least one duet. And I can't tell your boys what to do on tour and all, but I need to know there won't be booze backstage or on my buses."

There. That was the hard part, right out in the open.

"Works for me. I don't drink, and my boys are family men now. They may have a beer on their bus, but that's their issue." Seb stretched. "Your people are taking care of your buses; mine mine. I want my boys to play on the recording, at least on half the songs."

"Sure." Half of Markus' band had actually retired last year. He'd made them a pretty good living over the years. "I want Kyle on fiddle, but other than that I'm easy."

"Kyle still with you? Even after rehab? I'm impressed." 

"Dude, Kyle is on Weight Watchers. He's way more scary on sugar detox than I was on withdrawal." It could be hell to get old. Markus knew from experience.

"Oh, man. I mean, I get it. I know what I eat. I'm careful." Shit, careful. There wasn't an ounce of fat on Seb, that Markus could see. It was a good look, but he had to admit it was a little unnerving.

"You know me. I get off the sauce and I can eat a lot." He could still devour the Waffle House as long as he hit the gym.

"Rock on." One near white eyebrow lifted, rising above Seb’s dark glasses. "So, you want to do a couple of rocking cuts, one ballad, one cover and something... patriotic?"

"Something summertime, maybe?" He could think of a thousand song choices that wouldn't offend anyone... Yeah. Something they could base a tour on.

"You know me, I'm a sun baby." Yeah, Seb'd made a career on being the wild child -- hang gliding, snowboarding, motorcycles, airplanes. Anything and everything. Extreme sports events vied for the man to do shows like rodeos begged for Markus.

"Good." What else was there? He knew he'd had a list.

"So, studio in February, first release in April, tour starts in May?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that works. I've got some award shows in May, so we'll have to schedule it."

"Sure. Tawny and Jack will run with that. Who's your assistant?"

"Uh. Tawny has one." He didn't have a PA anymore. 

"Dude. How do you function?"

"I got my laptop. My phone. Tawny is superhuman." His ears felt hot. He wasn't as busy as he'd been once, either.

"I'm impressed. I'm not smart enough to keep all that shit straight."

He surprised himself by wanting to growl. "You do fine."

Seb chuckled, bare feet curling up under his legs. "So. I'm yours until noon. Wanna write?"

"Hell, yes. I got my guitar." He pulled off one boot, then the other. The business meeting was over.

"Fucking A!" He got this grin -- wide and wild and pleased. "I'll grab the pens and paper."

Markus found that he had the same goofy grin on his lips, too. They had always connected best over music. 
Wherever they were.

Seb came back with two bottles of water, a pad of paper, and a guitar case. "Let's do it."

"Start with the stadium rocker?"

"Uh-huh. I was thinking something about fireworks and flames?" Seb plopped down beside him, pulled out the ancient six-string. God, how many memories did he have about that man and that Gibson? Shit.

"Old flames, maybe. America loves an old love story come back to life." He popped his acoustic out of the case. It wasn't old, but he loved it and it was custom. 

"Oh, man. Fireworks and Old Flames. I fucking love the hook." The words were scribbled down in Seb's weird, backassward script.

"Yeah." He keyed up the first chord, already having a good idea where they were going. Man, he hadn't been this fired up to write in months. 

Hell, maybe Seb would be good for him, like a B12 shot or one of those juice fasts. 

Either way, Markus figured it wouldn't be boring, and that was a shot in the arm to his semi-retired life.



About the Author:

Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy's Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she's not doing that, she's writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting and surfing porn sites in the name of research. BA's personal saviors include her partner, Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.
Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but is feeling the Colorado mountains calling. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.




Twitter: @batortuga



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