Stuck on Rewind by Dianne Hartsock
Release Date: March 15, 2016
Pages or Words: 10,308 words
Publisher: Pride Publishing
Cover Artist: Emmy Ellis
Categories: Contemporary, Erotic, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance
Today we welcome author Dianne Hartsock back to 3 Chicks After Dark! She’s here to share her newest release, Stuck on Rewind, and a day in the life of Ashton! Thanks for being here with us, Dianne.
Thank you so much for hosting me, 3 Chicks After Dark! I thought I’d give you a rundown of a typical day for Ashton.
• Wake up to the alarm, shoo Lance’s warm, pliant body out of his bed…again.
• Put on the coffee while Lance showers, then take his own.
• Eat a bowl of oatmeal while looking over his notes for his statistics class.
• Give Lance a tiny kiss on the lips, when he’d rather crush the guy to him and steal hundreds of them.
• Spend a couple hours playing secretary for Professor Kent.
• Have lunch then on to his afternoon classes.
• Home by four to work on whatever assignments he needs to finish for his classes.
• Eat something and miss Lance, who isn’t home for dinner again.
• Dresses and goes to the club to tend bar and drool over Lance dancing on stage.
• Bed by midnight to have Lance dance in his dreams.
That was great!! Thanks for bringing a little more of Ashton to our tour stop, Dianne!
Ashton has been in love with his best friend for years, watching him grow from a pretty high school boy to the gorgeous erotic dancer at the club where they both work. The problem is that Lance enjoys the attention of a variety of men while Ashton wants him for his very own.
After a day spent denying his attraction for Lance, standing by while their friend Trey openly flirts with him, Ashton decides it’s time to make his move or risk losing his man forever. Once Lance knows how he feels, he’ll realize they should be together. Or is it already too late?
“Fuck!” Ashton shouted in a mixture of anger and ecstasy as Lance swallowed again, then let Ashton’s softening cock slip from between his perfect lips. Ashton leaned on his elbows, his chest heaving while he caught his breath. With a last kiss on his thigh, Lance climbed off the bed, sleek-limbed and graceful, and walked to the dresser with a sassy sway of his hips.
Ashton stared after him and groaned, not sure if he wanted to pull his friend’s ass back into his arms or punch him in the face. It would be incredible to wake up with Lance every morning and make love to him. But he sternly reminded himself that they were only friends and Lance needed to stop climbing into his bed at night uninvited.
“You do remember you have a bed of your own?” he asked, more sharply than he’d intended.
Lance gave him a smirk over his shoulder, making a show of licking the last of Ashton’s spunk off his swollen lips. “You told me to wake you at seven.”
“I didn’t mean… Oh hell.” Ashton fell back on the pillows and threw an arm over his eyes. He swore in exasperation when the mattress dipped and Lance’s familiar scent surrounded him. “Damn it—”
Soft fingers touched his mouth. “Don’t be mad, baby. I didn’t mean anything.”
Ashton peered at him through the dark curls that had flopped into his eyes. The guy looked positively forlorn, and Ashton sat up, giving him a one-armed hug. “I’m not mad. But you don’t need to keep doing that, either. You’re my friend!” He kissed Lance’s cheek, the velvet skin warm with a blush. “You make a terrific roommate, and I like the company.”
“And I like you.” Lance walked his fingers up Ashton’s leg.
Ashton laughed and shooed the hand away, but couldn’t help staring at the enticing evidence of his friend’s arousal between his legs.
“Can I take care of that for you?”
“Not at all.” Lance stood up, waving off Ashton’s offer. “I’ll deal with it in the shower. You have to save your attentions for Mister Man.”
“Who are you talking about…? Wait!” Ashton rolled off the bed and trotted after Lance as he crossed the apartment.
Lance giggled, slipping behind the bathroom door but holding it cracked open an inch. He smiled at Ashton with his pouty, kissable lips. “You know, the boss. Mister Kent.”
“I’m not saving myself for—”
Ashton blinked at the closed door. Why in the world would Lance think he was interested in his boss? Sure, the man was handsome as sin, but he was also an egomaniac and tyrant. Why only yesterday, he’d…
Hot blood scorched Ashton’s neck and face, his arm tingling where Morgan Kent had gripped it, towering over him. The man had bent to his ear, swamping Ashton’s senses with subtle cologne and a hint of sweat as he’d whispered, “If you can’t type a simple letter without mistakes, I’ll find a secretary who can.” He’d tightened his hand almost painfully on Ashton’s arm. “Or maybe I should just bend you over this desk and smack your ass for each mistake?”
Ashton’s dick jumped at the memory. He told it sternly to behave. “We’re not falling for that bastard. We’ll stick with the sweet boys at the club and call it good.”
Meet the author:
Dianne grew up in one of the older homes in the middle of Los Angeles, a place of hardwood floors and secret closets and back staircases. A house where ghosts lurk in the basement and the faces in the paintings watch you walk up the front stairs. Rooms where you keep the closet doors closed tight at night. It’s where her love of the mysterious and wonderful came from.
Dianne now lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. She says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee warming her hands, which kindles her imagination.
Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.
Tour Dates & Stops: