Academic Pursuits Giveaway!

Free Book! For a limited time only!

I'm giving away a free copy of my novella, Academic Pursuits to a randomly chosen commenter to this post.

Academic Pursuits is a smutty romantic comedy, taking place at a fictional college campus that has absolutely no resemblance to my own old alma mater. It is published by Amber Allure.


The winner will be announced on Saturday, so make sure you post by 8 am PST the 4th, if you want a chance of winning.

To whet your appetite, here is the blurb and a previously not shown excerpt:

Jamie Brennan is putting “cad” back into academia!

The son of a well-to-do family and blessed with both dark good looks and buckets of confidence, Jamie lives for the chase. He has a well-deserved reputation around college as a seducer of straight frat boys. No man is off-limits to Jamie—he’s happy to help fellow gay students out of the closet, too. He even has lustful designs on his oblivious English professor, so it’s no surprise that his amorous pursuits often land him in sticky situations.

There's just one flaw in Jamie's perfect world—Roger Hunt. The hunky grad student, who dresses more like a lumberjack than the talented artist he is, gives Jamie hostile looks every time their paths cross. Jamie tries to ignore Roger, but they can't seem to stop running into each other, and Jamie's beginning to wonder if it’s more than chance that continues to steer them down the same halls...

***

“Don’t forget to drop off your paper by five on Monday,” Professor Woodford said, dismissing the class.

We all stood and began to file out. I pulled my jacket on—it covered the bulge in my crotch. Spending a whole hour in close physical proximity with so much Britishness had predictable results. I didn’t know what I was gonna do when the weather warmed up.

“Jamie, I’d like a moment of your time,” Woodford said.

I stood aside and waited for all the other students to shuffle out. I didn’t dare to look him in the eye ’til the heavy oak door slammed shut behind the last of them.

There was a moment of pregnant silence in the air. I waited for him to speak first.

“Jamie, you seemed distracted in class,” Woodford said. There was nothing unusual about his words, but his voice dropped a whole octave. It was downright sultry—that on top of the accent made more blood rush to my already aching cock.

I swallowed hard. My mouth went dry. “I was… My thoughts were elsewhere,” I admitted.

His eyelids went to sleepy half-mast and he leaned against the desk with all the languidness of a sleepy cat

.

“Tell me,” Woodford commanded.

Hesitantly, I began to speak. “I was thinking of you, Professor.”

“Go on.” His voice was rich and dark, like one of those molten lava cakes.

“I was thinking how hot you made me. I was imagining getting on my knees and worshipping you,” I said, emboldened.

His lips curled into a hungry smile. “Show me.”