OK - I never, ever do this, but what the heck. Here's a little taste of my WIP. This character is Lane Wood, aging British guitar god whose star has faded, along with his net worth.
Lane hit the disconnect button of his phone as he glanced out the window of his lover’s Encino apartment. Ventura Boulevard sprawled into one mini-mall after another. How could he convince Jolie to give him access to her bank accounts? He’d probably have to shag her royal highness. That did the trick the last time. Wincing, he shook his head.
Jonathan came up behind him and wrapped his muscular arms around Lane’s torso. “What’s wrong?” His hands dropped several inches and snuck inside the waistband of Lane’s silk boxer shorts.
Stepping out of Jonathan’s reach, he pulled the curtains closed, then spun around to face him. “’Ow many bloody times do I ‘ave to tell you, mate? Keep the damned windows covered when I’m ‘ere. You know what would ‘appen to me career if anyone found out about us?”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think any gossip rags are still watching you. Anyway, there have been rumors about you since your Cracked Mirror days. No one would be terribly surprised.” He moved to the bed and sat on the edge, unzipped his shorts. “It’s your wife you’re worried about, isn’t it? You’re afraid she’ll find out about you. Why would she stay with a queen?”
No one could possibly suspect guitar god Lane Wood of being a fairy. His reputation had him bedding hundreds of crumpets in his single days. He studied his lover. If he wasn’t so muscular, so tan, so young and randy, he’d have given Jonathan the boot several years ago. “Jolie would never believe such rumors about me. When Cracked Mirror went on our reunion tour three years back, she was a bloody ravin’ lunatic about all the groupies ‘angin’ ‘round me.” He snickered. “She’s the last thing I’m worried about. It’s all about the cash. 'Er Royal 'ighness pinches a penny so tight, she makes the buffalo ride the Indian.”
Lane sauntered toward the bed. No, it wasn’t Jolie he was so concerned about. His fear was being found out and having his manly image blown to bits. If the world learned he was a queer, they’d all stop loving him. He’d be a laughing stock. And no one would pay to see Cracked Mirror ever again. He had to think of a way to get his hands on some big money, and soon. Might as well be Jolie’s money.