QSFer Eule Grey has a new MM fantasy romance out: Bite Club.
Lenni lives on the civilised side of the wall, a hard worker who follows the rules. Super-fit and healthy, with everything he could wish for; an office, app-friends, and enough medications to suppress the extraneous. Like everyone in his country, Lenni’s safe. So why does the big, handsome guy cry each night? What of his aching heart and empty arms? When supervisor Lion offers a place in Bite Club, why would Lenni jump at the chance to cross the forbidden wall? Fighting? It doesn’t make sense. Maybe that’s the whole point.
Mino lives on the wild side, with untamed hair and oh so gentle hands. He understands about the desperate people who sometimes make it over the wall, and of the ancient deal between governments which established the whole façade. It’s got nothing to do with him. Until the day his people force him into the circle to confront the guy from the medicated side. Very soon, everything clever Mino knows becomes as meaningless as dust. Nobody can appreciate what it is to be needed, even loved, until it hits them right between the eyes.
When Lenni and Mino are thrust together in the Bite Club circle, both men are shocked and confused by what happens afterwards and by the raging thirst ignited within them. Is it Bite Club, or snuggle club? In the end, you don’t have to talk about it to understand.
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Giveaway
GIVEAWAY
Excerpt
Finally, hair awry and face deliciously dirty, the man turns to face me and the circle goes quiet. Now they’ve won, the onlookers fall back and walk respectfully to the far edges of the circle. They stand far enough away so they can see well enough, but not see everything.
Lion told me the reason for this. Some people—on both sides—like to have sex during Bite Club. I didn’t ask any questions, but it’s something I think about a lot.
Sex. In the circle. Not on an app with people who are illusory and programmed, but sex over the wall, with noise, and taste, and feels.
The chosen man—my opponent—is of average height and weight. He’s not skinny, nor big either. His shoes are scuffed and old, his clothes ripped. They’re not supposed to wear shoes. Because of the scuffle and of the way he tried to escape, I wonder what sex with him would be like. According to the sex apps, in the past guys often took it in turns to top.
With an erection, I grin and wave. “Hello! You can bite me. It’ll be fun.”
He starts walking toward me with a wary expression. I know what’s going to happen and I’m no fool neither. There won’t be any surprises. I’ve never liked violence and I’m not sure about pain.
He stops moving a few paces before reaching me and looks me in the eye. This is the best part of Bite Club—the connection, or whatever it is. They normally emit hatred and anger, and I suck it down as it if were the tastiest of drinks. Their bitterness makes me cry and wakes me up and then I know I’m alive.
He looks, and keeps on looking. Whatever part of me needs this, devours his anger, and hate, and consuming passion. It’s sick, so fucking sick. It’s wonderful and real, and I’m alive.
This time something’s different. Instead of hatred his face is alive with complex emotion I can’t decipher. His eyes! It’s not anger within, but softness and melting and sadness.
He blinks and winces. “I’m so sorry.” His voice holds layers of meaning and intention I can’t possibly process. Although I understand the words, they make no sense.
He’s broken the rules. Once inside the circle, they’re not allowed to speak. Now it’s me gasping, and falling backward, and trying to get away. “Don’t—why are you speaking?”
He grabs at my T-shirt and pulls me against his body. “Talk to me? I want to hear. I want you to tell me.”
I shout louder than I’ve ever. “Bite, you fucker! The deal is, you bite!”
I push and so does he. We fall, roll, grab, pull and push.
The crowds cheer, because to them it looks the same as always. It isn’t.
I’m trying to crawl away from those eyes oozing empathy in exhausting waves. The man won’t let go. He drags me back by my feet and throws his body on top of mine.
“Stop it,” I beg. “Just fucking bite me. That’s what we’re here for. Please?”
I hurl him off and get to my feet, but he’s there again and he doesn’t stop. Every time I get away, he drags me back to those eyes. He doesn’t stop.
Finally, I’m beat.
He holds me down with his body on top of mine and looks into me. His eyes hold all the colors of this world: brown, red, yellow, orange. Green forests and birds, running without shoes and not knowing what’s going to happen next. Sex, laughter, and holding hands. Kissing. Talk. Understanding. Arguments. Making up. Eating together. Sex. Holding. Waking up together. Life. All the things we don’t have in our perfect, lonely, officed world.
Author Bio
Eule Grey is a disabled artist and author who lives in the UK. Her mind is often in the clouds or away with the fairies. Some might call her fey.
Eule adores creating cuddly, sparkling romances. She also writes all kinds of other queer stories and refuses to be squeezed into only one genre—she’s not tidy enough.
Pronouns: She or they.
| Author Website | https://eulegreyauthor.carrd.co/ |
| Author Facebook | https://www.facebook.com/eule.grey/ |
| Author Twitter | https://twitter.com/EuleGrey |