Blog Hop, Day Two

Good Easter Eve to you!
I’ve heard from several people telling me what they’re
reading and how hard they’re working today and tomorrow. To those of you having
to go in to work, I’m sending you a big hug.
I used to have to work on every holiday–both as a waitress,
as a hotel clerk, and later as a help-line worker. In a way, all of those jobs
really are related. You’d be surprised the impact you can have on a person’s
day, especially on a holiday. You might be the only smile or touch of cheer
someone gets this weekend.
If you DO have to go to work, drop me a note and give me something
to write about!  I love to take people
from various lines of work or places in life and imagine what they get up to.
Okay, enough about all of that for now. I hope to get
Figuratively Speaking out tonight. I’m not going to post another excerpt before
tomorrow, but I won’t leave you with nothing. I know the cover shows a man and
a woman, and it’s pretty hot. Thanks for that go to Mae Powers–she’s more than
a great author, she’s an excellent cover artist!  Still, the male protagonist for this book,
Nikodemos Kosmapoulos, is based on the looks of Theo Theodoridis–This guy:
I’m going to leave you–for now–with an excerpt from a book
of mine that I recently reread–okay, I reread half of it. I don’t remember why
right now, but I wanted to find out what Marek, Tyrone, and Cesaer got up to. I
only read the first half, so I’d better check out the rest pretty soon… I
expect to put out another Agency book this year if all goes well.
Here it is:
by J.J. Massa
Held together and directed by the strength of one person,
known only as The Old Man, The Agency acts as the world’s anti-terrorist
organization. Regardless of race, creed, or sociopolitical backgrounds,
talented young people are gathered, trained, and their skills put to good use,
making the world a safer place. Every agent has a tale to tell, every Agency
employee comes with a story.
This double novella features Tyrone and Marek. Tyrone is a
cook, Marek a crack agent also known as “the Shadow”, whose love may
surprise everyone. The second story pairs Agency operative Lancelot and
biochemist Vanya, who team up to stop a major terrorist operation. See what
stories The Old Man finds most entertaining. Join The Agency today!
The Agency: Marek and Tyrone
By J.J. Massa
Tyrone Johnson was aware the minute the furtive young man
slid through the cafeteria doors. It had to be an internal thing because no
sound was heard. He barely saw the flicker of movement out of the corner of his
Still, he’d been waiting for this customer all night. Even
knowing he wouldn’t be in until the place was empty, Tyrone had been anxious
for his arrival.
“Hey there,” he said, keeping his deep voice low as the thin
blond slid his tray along the counter.
His answer was a terse nod.
“So, how’s that sweet tooth of yours?” Tyrone asked quietly,
his tone gentle and lightly teasing. He’d noticed that the junkyard thin man
sometimes ate only desserts.
Dark gold eyes met his suspiciously. “Is hungry,” came his
rusty, croaked reply.
Tyrone covertly looked him over. The spare frame looked even
thinner than the last time he’d seen him. Paler, too, in fact.
“Well that’s just fine,” Tyrone smiled. “Jus’ fine. I’ve got
something for you. Made it fresh.” He had to turn away from the startled look
on the pallid white face. Leaning down, he fished around under the counter and
produced a pecan pie, made special that very morning. “Here you go, friend.” He
placed the glass pie plate on the counter. “Let me cut it for you. Come on,
we’ll go over here to a table.”
Tyrone slid the sugary pie off the counter and turned,
carrying it to a table in the corner.  He
didn’t look back to see if the other man was following. It might go either way.
He couldn’t stop the smile blooming on his face when the almost-emaciated body
slipped into a nearby chair.
“Is…” Wary eyes looked at the pie and then up at Tyrone. “It
is mine?”
“Made it just for you. Knew you’d like it. It’s good for
you, too, with the nuts and all,” Tyrone babbled, turning and cutting the pie.
He deposited a gooey slice of the sweet, syrupy confection onto an empty plate.
“I’m Tyrone, in case you didn’t know,” he mumbled, wiping his hands on his
cooks’ apron, for want of something to do.
“I am a spy,” the other man said dryly, shrugging his
shoulders, a smile flitting across his face. “Marek,” he said with a nod, a
forkful of pie making it clear that he had nothing else to say.
“Marek,” Tyrone repeated, sinking into the vacant chair
opposite. “Is that Dutch?”
He was thrilled and a little stunned. He’d been nervous that
his attentions would chase the other man away. Netting a name and a smile in
the same visit was a lottery. Not to mention that this was the most talkative
the thin blond had ever been.
“Mmmm,” Marek groaned, audibly enjoying his pie. “Slav,” he
Taking yet another chance, Tyrone stuck a hand out. “Pleased
to meet you, Marek,” he said.
Marek studied the extended hand for long moments. Tyrone let
it hang there, though he was beginning to feel awkward. Just when he’d decided
to pull back, Marek’s bony fingers brushed his palm.
“Thank you for this pie, Tyrone,” Marek said formally,
adding, “It is very good.”
Tyrone could no more stop the grin spreading across his face
than he could stop the sunrise, and that’s what it felt like, holding the thin
hand in his. “I really hoped you’d like…” his breath caught at the sight of
angry red welts wrapped around the wrist and forearm of his companion. He felt
his eyes moisten. “Marek?” Someone had hurt him. He reached across the table
and covered the welts with his free hand.
For a second, Marek attempted to pull his hand away; he
stopped, instead reaching over, tapping lightly at Tyrone’s thick wrist. “It is
over now, I am here.” He looked down and over again at Tyrone. “Here with this
pie.” His lips turned up briefly, producing that elusive smile that Tyrone
loved. “I am here with this pie and you.”
The Agency: Vanya and Lance
The Agency: Vanya and Lance
By J.J. Massa
The very idea of touching and being touched by the stranger
in the picture terrified him, even sickened him. Conversely, leaning against
Lancelot Morgan’s broad chest and having the agent’s muscular arm around him–that
felt better than anything ever had in his entire life. He felt safe and he was
reluctant to give that up.
“I do not know how,” he confessed in a whisper, face pressed
to the starched white shirt of the older man.
“You don’t… What? You’re afraid that….” Vanya felt Lancelot
take a deep breath. “Okay,” the larger man shifted around and tilted Vanya’s
face up with one hand. “How about this?” he began, “You’ve kissed someone
before haven’t you?”
Ni, no, no kiss,
no um, how you say, mitsno obiymaty,
is embrace with arms, is hug. No,” he repeated becoming upset again. “My
inadequacies will cause death, injury! I cannot do this! I cannot!”
He struggled to move from Lancelot’s tight embrace but the
larger man held him fast. “Hush! Be still,” Lancelot admonished, both arms
going around him now. “We are partners on this case, Vanya. We’ll figure this
out together.” Vanya struggled halfheartedly one last time. “Together, Vanya,”
Lancelot repeated, giving him a hard squeeze.
“I am having hug now, yes?” Vanya wheezed, causing Lancelot
to laugh and loosen his hold slightly.
“Yes, little professor, and if you put your arms around me,
we’ll both be having a hug,” Vanya could hear the smile in Lancelot’s voice.
Slowly, shyly, Vanya eased first one arm and then the other
around Lancelot’s ribs until his hands clutched at the smooth muscles of the
other man’s back. They sat silently for a minute and Vanya reveled in the warm
closeness of his first hug.
When he felt Lancelot shift slightly, he drew back and
looked up at him. “You will show me how, yes?” he asked, so grateful for the
other man’s presence. “You will teach me?”
Lancelot looked down into the pleading eyes of the little
chemist and was lost. Vanya didn’t need perfect English to make himself clear.
Lance understood that the man in his arms had never made love with anybody,
ever, and he wanted Lancelot to teach him how to seduce someone.
While Lancelot doubted that this innocent little man could
ever purposely seduce anyone, Dr. Havalon would expect Vanya to be experienced
with men. If not, their hand would be tipped. Besides, he reasoned, it wasn’t
right that the young man’s first sexual experience be a job.
Sliding one hand up to cup the back of Vanya’s tilted head,
Lancelot sunk his fingers into the gilded silk of his hair and lowered his lips
to caress the pounding pulse at his temple.
“I’ll teach you,” he agreed, moving to kiss first the left
eye, then the right, and ending with a kiss on his nose.
“I feel odd,” Vanya whispered. “My heart, it beats fast and
I feel both cold and hot. My limbs shake. Perhaps I am ill?”
“No, Professor,” Lancelot murmured warmly, brushing his lips
across a smooth cheek. “You aren’t ill, you’re excited. And maybe you’re
attracted to me just a little?”
Vanya tilted his head and Lancelot fought a smile as the
studious young man analyzed that statement.
“I have long admired your looks. You are tall and muscular.
Strong with dark hair and dark eyes.  If only I were more….”
Lancelot cut him off by dropping a light kiss on Vanya’s
startled mouth. “Not one more word,” he growled. “You are a very attractive man, Vanya. I thought so
this morning and I think so now.”
Saying the words and looking into Vanya’s innocent and open
face, Lancelot knew he was telling the truth. The minute he’d seen that
mischievous twinkle in those intelligent and slightly exotic eyes, his blood
had pooled and heated in his groin. It had surged again when he’d seen that
disheveled, sun kissed mop in The Old Man’s office.
For Lancelot, teaching Dr. Vanya Ambrozak about the
pleasures of the flesh would not be a hardship–not at all.
And that will do it for just a little while. I’ll be back
this evening.  I want to tell you about
some of the jewelry we’ve made and how it connects with each book of mine.
Most important, though, is finding out what’s going on with
you this weekend. The more you tell me about you and what’s going on with you–the better your chances of winning. Have fun when you can!



I’ve already said it a time or two, but my prizes are a copy
of any of my ebooks–reader’s choice (even if you want to hold it for the next
release), a pair of earrings (reader’s choice–look HERE for EARRINGS–) ,and
GERTRUDE HAWK gift, because chocolate goes with reading like…well, like
chapters and words
See you soon!
 (just an example…)


J.J. Massa

join me on TwitterFacebookmy NCP Blog

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