Hi guys, we have Karen Stivali stopping by today with her upcoming release Moment of Fate, we have a brilliant guest post and a great excerpt so check out the post and enjoy! <3 ~Pixie~
Moment of Fate
Bryan Dane’s been living the dream—photography student by day, up-and-coming rocker by night. His summer goals are to earn his last few credits, graduate from NYU, spend as much time in the recording studio as possible, and survive the next few months without sex so he can complete his yearlong goal of self-imposed celibacy. Everything is on track until he meets Oliver Newcastle.
For years Oliver planned a marriage of convenience with his high school BFF, but now that she’s fallen in love for real with someone else, it’s no longer convenient. So Oliver came out to his family, quit his job, and left small-town New England for NYC, an intensive summer study program, and a chance to find his own happiness.
From the moment they meet, the sexual tension between Bryan and Oliver sizzles. But Bryan wants no part of a relationship, and Oliver wants to sow his wild oats—he just isn’t sure how. Oliver seeks Bryan’s help navigating the NYC gay scene, which throws them together in increasingly more sexual situations until they can no longer deny they’re hot for each other. Bryan is desperate to keep things simple, but fate may have other plans.
This is a standalone novel set in the Moments In Time world. You do not need to have read any of the previous titles to enjoy this book.
No matter how many romance novels I write, one of my favorite things is always the first kiss. Sometimes it happens pretty soon after the couple meets, but usually I prefer to draw it out. I love friends to lovers stories, whether it’s old friends finally at long last admitting that they have more than friendly feelings for one another, or relatively new friends who’ve felt the attraction from the get-go but, for one reason or another, didn’t act on those feelings right away.
There’s something so magical about the tension just prior to a first kiss. The longing, wanting, wondering…all of it creates emotions and feelings that are unlike any other time in a relationship. So, without further ado, here’s a sneak peek at the first kiss in MOMENT OF FATE. Bryan and Oliver have been friends for about six weeks, and it’s been a friendship that started off intense and has only grown more so since they met, but Bryan is still insisting on keeping things platonic and sticking to his self-imposed celibacy plan. When Oliver accepts a date from another guy, and takes that guy to see Bryan’s band play, Bryan spends the evening watching their date play out from stage. Let’s just say he doesn’t handle it as well as he’d like. Take a look…
I played a show with a fractured wrist once. Another time right before we went on stage, I found out Suzi had been in a car accident, and I didn’t know how hurt she was. Neither of those were as excruciating as it was to perform two sets while watching Oliver and Erik on their date.
It was bad enough when they were seated at the bar. Trying to read body language as their heads leaned in toward one another, hoping to God they wouldn’t kiss with me watching and trying to remember the lyrics to songs I quite frankly didn’t give a damn about singing. When they moved to the dance floor, it all got a thousand times worse. Details were blurred by the club lighting, but not enough that I couldn’t see them moving together, couldn’t see Erik dancing behind Oliver and whispering in his ear, couldn’t see Oliver craning his neck to listen and laughing in response.
It was nothing short of a miracle that I didn’t just walk right off the stage. But I didn’t. I stayed. I performed. I even tried to keep my eyes closed as much as possible to focus on the music instead of the show in the audience that I didn’t want to see. Except when I opened my eyes after the last song finished, I couldn’t see them anywhere. And that was worse than anything I’d witnessed. They were gone. Both of them.
I knew what that meant.
They needed somewhere more private than a club to continue their evening. The thought nearly killed me. I packed up as quickly as possible, thanked the manager, and told Milo I needed to go.
“You all right?” He looked concerned, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I just needed to get out of there.
I walked home in a cloud of sulk and doom. Ten blocks had never felt so long.
The second I walked in the door I stripped off my clothes and made a beeline for the shower. The club had been warm, but the air on the way home was downright tropical. My apartment felt like a sauna, but the cool water helped. I let it rush over me, eyes closed, still unable to see anything but Oliver and Erik together.
That could be what they’re doing right this second.
Not to brag, but no one ever left our shows before the set was over. Not without a reason. What better reason to make tracks than heading home to bang your brains out? Or bang someone else’s out. Great. It occurred to me I didn’t know if Oliver was a top or bottom, and it didn’t much matter because my brain sadistically provided images of him and the gorgeous Erik in every position imaginable.
I leaned against the shower wall, wishing for the water to wash away any of the things I was feeling. Then I heard pounding on my front door. I ignored it, but instead of stopping the knocks grew more persistent.
I shut the water and toweled off, pausing when there was a lull in the banging. Thinking maybe they’d given up, I took a quiet step into the living room just as it started up again. Only Milo would be this fucking persistent. He probably came to give me shit for bailing early tonight. I bet Wallace bitched after I left. Just what I needed. A lecture.
I stepped into a pair of jeans, regretting the choice the instant the snug denim dragged across my damp skin. By the time I made it to the door I was downright surly. “Jesus fuck, Milo. I’m in no mood for—”
The last word died on my tongue as I saw Oliver standing in my hallway, looking confused.
“Sorry.” He tilted his head. “If you’re expecting Milo, I can go.”
“What? No.” I tried to process that he was here and not with Erik, but it wouldn’t compute.
“Where’s your dream date?”
He shrugged. “Home? Maybe.”
“So how come you’re not home with him?”
This shrug was accompanied by his hands shoving their way into his pockets in a way that immediately drew my attention to his crotch. Man, I’d trained him well. Too bad he was accidentally using his skills on the wrong guy.
“Can I come in?”
I stepped aside, still not believing he was here. What the fuck? Had he gotten cold feet? Please don’t let him have come over for a pep talk, or worse, advice. It might make me a shitty friend, but I couldn’t deal with giving him tips for great sex with Erik. And I was pretty sure Erik could teach him anything he needed to know. The montage of images returned, and I tried to banish them. I closed the door. “So what’s up? Shouldn’t you be getting back to your date?”
He squinted at me. “The date’s over. I walked him out before your last set ended. I went back to find you, but Milo said you’d taken off. I got… worried.”
Oh, fan-fucking-tastic, he thinks I need round-the-clock nursing care. That’s why he’s here. I’d almost rather he’d wanted sex advice.
“Don’t worry, Nurse Betty. I didn’t consume anything questionable tonight. I’m fine. I don’t need any special care or feeding tonight.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
I folded my arms, hoping I didn’t look like a sassy teenager but not feeling more mature than one. I quirked an eyebrow.
“I’m serious. I wasn’t worried you needed medical attention.” He stepped closer. “I was worried that maybe you were pissed off.”
My head jerked up, and he took another step toward me.
His shoulders drew up, hands still in his pockets, pulling the fabric even tighter around his crotch. God help me.
“You tell me.”
“I got nothing to tell.”
He stopped inches in front of me, smelling amazing, an irresistible mix of whatever cocktail he’d consumed blended with the woodsy scent he wore and that enticing sweet smell that was all him.
“You sure? Because the way you were looking at me from stage, I got the feeling you had something you wanted to say.”
Oh Jesus. My pulse had gone from racing from anger to being out of control with a mix of fear and desire. I wanted Oliver so much my chest hurt. My hands ached to touch him. My cock was hard as a rock and straining against my jeans, as if trying to be the smart one of the two of us and just reach out and grab him. I can’t do this. I can’t. It’s not a year yet….
Thoughts raced through my head faster than I could keep up with them. Moments spent with Oliver. Happy moments. Sexy ones. Then images of him with Erik accompanied by a level of jealousy I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before. Fuck the year. Fuck the whole damned deal. Fuck Oliver. Now.
The second voice in my head had come out of nowhere and was far more convincing.
It had a point. This wasn’t some random hookup. This was Oliver. Someone I’d wanted more than I could remember wanting anyone in… ever.
He waited. Silent. The only sound in the room was my blood rushing past my eardrums, my breathing accelerating. Was he right? Did I have something to say? No. I didn’t. Words couldn’t possibly express what I was feeling. Only one thing could.
Without another thought I gripped the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
Firm smooth lips. Oliver’s lips. Pressed against mine then slowly parted.
My mind spun, lost in the moment.
I hadn’t kissed another person—not one other person—in so long I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten the slow, sweet pressure of hesitation. I’d forgotten the breathless seconds when you stay still to make sure the other person is okay and is going to kiss back. I’d even managed to forget the mind-numbing drug-rush feeling of a warm hot tongue spiraling with yours and managing to erase every thought in your mind other than the thought that as long as it feels this good you wouldn’t mind spending all eternity and beyond with your lips locked to this other person’s.
Oliver flew through the stages from tentative to breathtaking to oh my God I can’t remember my own name. What started slow quickly became fingers clutching the sides of my head as I gripped his waist and steered him back against the wall, aligning our bodies and finally, blissfully, grinding against him.
His lips. Fuck me sideways, those hot fucking lips. How could I have forgotten kissing was like this? Maybe because kissing had never really been like this. He sucked my tongue in a way that had my cock standing up and ready to applaud and request an encore performance three feet down. His teeth tugged at my lower lip. That warm soft tongue spiraled mine then licked a hot wet pass across my cheek to nibble my earlobe before trailing down my neck.
I’m usually in charge in sexual situations. With Oliver? I was putty in his hands. He could have gotten me on my knees, on my back, on my couch, floor, kitchen table. For the first time since I broke up with Adam, I wanted to do it all. And I wanted it all with Oliver.
Karen Stivali is a prolific writer, compulsive baker and chocoholic with a penchant for books, movies, and fictional British men. She’s also the multiple award-winning author of contemporary and erotic romances. She writes novels about love…like real life, only hotter.
Karen’s lifelong fascination with people has led her to careers ranging from hand-drawn animator, to party planner, to marriage and family counselor, but writing has always been her passion. Karen enjoys nothing more than following her characters on their journey toward love. Whether the couples are m/f or m/m, it’s guaranteed that Karen’s novels are filled with food, friendship, love, and smoking hot sex—all the best things in life.
When Karen isn’t writing (and often when she is), she can be found on Twitter attempting witty banter and detailing the antics of her fruit-loving cat, BadKitteh. She loves to hear from readers (and other writers), so don’t hesitate to contact/follow/like her at: