Because Beards
Page 1
Copyright © 2016
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the authors’ imaginations and are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Alexis Alvarez, Faith Andrews, M. Andrews, Jeannine Colette, Hayley Faiman, Angelita Gill, Ace Gray, Ruthie Henrick, Scott Hildreth, Evie Lauren, Jerica MacMillan, R.C. Martin, Emmanuelle de Maupassant, Leslie McAdam, Maria Monroe, Adrienne Perry, J. Quist, Renee Rose, Kacey Shea, Martha Sweeney, and Tom Sweeney.
Cover Photography: Wander Aguiar from Wander Aguiar Photography
Cover Model: Jacob Rodney
Cover Design: Jessica Hildreth
Formatting: Champagne Formats
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute or transmit in any form or by any means.
All proceeds from this anthology will benefit The Movember Foundation.
Published in the United States
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Note from the Authors
Special Thanks
No Joke by Kacey Shea
Wild Proposal by Angelita Gill
How to Kill a Lady Boner by Ace Gray
Fortune Favors the Beard by Alexis Alvarez
The Beard Made Me Do It by Scott Hildreth
To Beard or Not to Beard? by J. Quist
Scruff You! by Faith Andrews
Theirs To Protect by Renee Rose
One Kiss by Martha Sweeney
Asshole Calling by Maria Monroe
Talking to the Moon by Jeannine Colette
Thou Shalt Not Beard by Leslie McAdam
Background Noise by R.C. Martin
Rough and Reckless by Hayley Faiman
First Class Distraction by Ruthie Henrick
Opening Hearts by Jerica MacMillan
Hometown Prince by Evie Lauren
All or Nothing by M. Andrews
Confessions of a Beard Lover by Adrienne Perry
Eternal Embrace by Thomas Sweeney
Highland Pursuits by Emmanuelle de Maupassant
Dear Readers
Twenty-one authors have come together to give you the ultimate in bearded pleasure. The heroes of our stories are ready to win your hearts and steam up the pages of your ereader.
All proceeds from this anthology will go to The Movember Foundation, a charity that raises money for prostate and testicular cancer and research, men’s mental health and suicide prevention. You can find them here: us.movember.com
There are many men who are important in our lives: Fathers, sons, brothers, husbands, teachers, and friends. Many of us enjoy reading about amazing fictional men as written by our favorite authors. With your purchase of this anthology, you are helping to fund the life-saving research that will benefit all of the real-life men we love. Thank you.
We hope you enjoy this book!
Sincerely, your authors…
Alexis Alvarez, Faith Andrews, M. Andrews, Jeannine Colette, Hayley Faiman, Angelita Gill, Ace Gray, Ruthie Henrick, Scott Hildreth, Evie Lauren, Jerica MacMillan, R.C. Martin, Emmanuelle de Maupassant, Leslie McAdam, Maria Monroe, Adrienne Perry, J. Quist, Renee Rose, Kacey Shea, Martha Sweeney, and Tom Sweeney.
Note: This anthology is meant for readers who are 18+ years old. The stories contain sexual content, explicit language, and adult situations. Don’t read this where people can see you blush!
Special Thanks
Thanks to everyone who graciously donated their time and talents to make this anthology a success. We’d like to give a special thanks to:
Jessica Hildreth
Wander Aguiar Photography
Jacob Rodney
Martha Sweeney
Stacey Blake, Champagne Formats
Heather Roberts & Social Butterfly/PR
Southern Belle
Jessica Hildreth
Jessica studied graphic design in college and just recently made it her full time career. She is well known for her adult coloring books and cover designs and has had her work on the covers of “big 5” publisher’s books. When she isn’t busy designing, she can be found on a beach in Florida spending time with her husband and kids.
Website: www.jessicahildrethdesigns.com
Facebook: Facebook.com/creativebookconcepts
Wander Aguiar
Brazilian born and San Diego based photographer Wander Aguiar has variously been a civil engineer, model and painter. His photographic work reflects similar eclecticism and spontaneity. “I like challenges and the freedom to create,” he says. “I try to use my experience as a former model to bring out the best in each model I work with. Being a model is beyond just having a beautiful face; you have to perform and show a different personality and attitude no matter what you have on.” Wander shoots beauty, fashion, editorial and fine art. His creative vision and coaching abilities have helped develop new faces and placed him with the best agencies. His work has appeared with magazines worldwide.
Website: wanderaguiar.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/WANDER.AGUIAR.PHOTOGRAPHY
Fan page : www.facebook.com/Wander-Book-Club-461833027360302
Jacob Rodney
My name is Jacob Rodney Hogue. I was born July 10, 1987 in Owatonna, MN but I grew up most my life in Great Falls, MT and Yuba City, Ca. When I was 19 I joined the United States Army Reserve. I spent 8 years enlisted and deployed to Afghanistan in 2014. Once I had fulfilled my commitment I decided I wanted to do something different and made the decision to move down to Southern California to pursue acting and modeling. I soon after landed on a cover for ‘Obvious’ magazine and shortly after began shooting for book covers. It’s been a hell of experience and I look forward to the future.
Instagram: www.instagram.com/jacobrodneyhogueshow
Facebook: www.facebook.com/Jacob-Rodney-Model-526442767542569
Heather Roberts at Social Butterfly
Heather Roberts provides authors personalized attention to their stories so that their voices can shine. She may be a trained attorney but she’s a lover of all things romance at heart. Heather is a voracious reader who adores falling in love with a new book, and is a fierce collector of book boyfriends. She is passionate about helping authors - both brand new and established - build their brands and connect with readers. Being a publicist is her dream job and she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Heather is originally from Pennsylvania but currently lives in West Virginia with her husband, their dog and a cat.
Email: heather@socialbutterflypr.net
Facebook: www.facebook.com/socialbutterflybookpromos
Website: www.socialbutterflypr.net
Instagram: www.instagram.com/owmyshelf
Twitter: twitter.com/OWMyshelf
Stacey Blake, Champagne Formats
Website: champagneformats.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/ChampagneFormats
Southern Belle
Two best friends with a mutual love for romance novels, Erin and Katie formed Southern Belle in December 2013.
We strive to promote our favorite books and authors from a variety of subgenres. Concentrating mainly on Contemporary/New Adult/Young Adult romance, we endeavor to give authors honest reviews with a side of love and to share our excitement, enjoyment, and anticipation with other readers.
Our blog provides reviews, spotlights, takeovers and giveaways.
southernbellebo
okblog.com
A cover model, a photographer, and a romance writer all walk into a bar.
What’s the punch line?
There isn’t one. This is my reality on a Thursday night.
Four years ago when I hit publish with the aid of free Wi-Fi at my favorite hipster coffee shop, I never in a million years dreamed this would be possible. Though had I dreamt this scenario as my life, it would’ve looked a little different. For one, it would’ve included more sex. Hell, any sex would be nice.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m thankful for the success I’ve achieved. The career I’ve been able to grow. Back then I worked retail between late nights of writing just to make rent, living in a dingy, cheap apartment and chasing my dream of becoming a published author. My last two releases hit the USA Today’s Best-Selling Books list. Again, more than I ever hoped.
Still, I’m sitting in this dive bar just outside of Nashville after a day of shooting for my next book cover and I’m left unsettled, restless, and on edge. My career’s success is due in part to my ability to write mind-blowing sex. Sex which my readers assume I enjoy on a regular occurrence. Except I can’t remember the last time I orgasmed while getting some. Actually, that’s not true . . . I can. But it’s been over five years and I don’t allow my mind to wander that far down memory lane. My own sexual frustration has me feeling very much a fraud as I pick at the label on my beer bottle. Not wanting to wallow in my own self-doubt a second longer, I twist my seat away from the bar.
Bryan, my fucking fabulous cover model, cuddles up in the back booth with the hottie ranch hand we met before the shoot. Gary, with his southern drawl, tight jeans, and scruffy beard could pass for a model himself, though I doubt he has six pack abs underneath all that flannel. The way things are headed, though, Bryan will find out for sure before the clock strikes midnight.
My photographer and bestie, Lauren, sits perched on stage next to a karaoke machine as she belts out lyrics to the latest Taylor Swift single. I cross my legs, kicking one calf length boot to the rhythm of the music and cringe as Lauren hits a high note. She sobers enough to glare my way and I right my face into a smile.
Tipping my beer, I take a long pull and throw my right hand in the air, thumb holding the two center fingers down so my index and pinky rock on. You go, girl. This seems to encourage her, and if possible her voice screeches an octave higher. I fucking hate karaoke, but she’s up there having a grand ol’ time so I force a smile and pray the ringing in my ears dissipates before the night is over.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing sitting alone in a bar?” A mammoth of a man slides onto the stool at my right and breathes his whisky sour into my ear. “I’m Johnny. What’s your name, suga’?”
I straighten my spine and uncross my legs, and scoot as far away as possible without falling off my own seat. Closing my eyes, I inhale a cleansing breath. Be nice; don’t be a total dick to the dickhead.
“Can we please not do this?” I try for sweet but my inner bitch always rules. My lips pull into a smile but it’s too forced and I’m sure looks more threatening than approachable. “Please don’t fucking hit on me.” I said please.
Johnny Bad Breath’s smile drops and his face twists up as though I’ve kicked him in the nuts. He scoffs. “Your loss,” he says, and moves on to another poor undeserving soul.
See. This is why I don’t get laid, good, bad, or otherwise. I have no patience for the song and dance of the bar pick up scene. And online dating? Fuck that shit. Never in a million years. I’d rather my vagina elect a permanent sabbatical.
I glance up to find Bryan and Gary acquainting their tongues with the other’s and I almost smile except Lauren chooses this moment to tackle an Elton John number. I twist my body away from the spectacle and shudder. “Not Rocket Man,” I mumble and shake my chin. A few strands of hair escape the knot atop my head and brush my bare shoulders. I glance up to find the bartender watching me; his ocean deep eyes almost dance and lips pull up at the edges.
“Not a fan of watching gay men hook up?” He raises one eyebrow.
My eyes widen and I shake my head. “Not that. I love that. I just can’t take it when someone murders one of the greats! Especially when said someone is my best friend.”
He nods, a lazy grin pulls at his face, and that’s when I notice the shape of his lips and how his thick trim beard frames them just right. I bite my lower lip. Damn. I’m such a sucker for good lips. His lower one more plump than the top, it’s a mouth perfect for kissing. I imagine, anyway.
“Well, I hear alcohol has been known to dull one’s senses, so here.” He pulls a glass bottle from where it chills in a bucket of ice. “On the house. In the name of great music and all things holy. I feel as though you’ve earned it.”
I can’t fight the smile that pulls at my lips. “I don’t know how you do it.” I take the offered glass container and ignore the shiver of lust that works its way down my spine and between my legs when our fingers barely brush.
He steps back, leans against the counter, and shrugs. “It’s a job. Getting me by until my ship comes in.”
I take the moment to appreciate his body. He’s not overly tall. I’d guess maybe a few inches over my height of five foot seven. His caramel brown hair is a little long and has a slight wave at the ends of his mostly straight locks. Lashes, thick and long enough to make any woman jealous, frame his irises blue as the sea. The glint in them is teasing and all knowing.
I take a pull from my bottle and clear my throat. “I know how that goes. Just don’t give up on that dream. It always gets shittier before it gets better. But stick with it and you’re sure to achieve great things.”
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
“Yeah—Well—I—” I take another drink. Damn it, Amanda, fucking act like you’re literate. “I know what it’s like to chase something that once seemed impossible and come up on the better end.”
“Something tells me you’re not talking about a man?” He smirks.
I chuckle. “No, not a dick. I never chase dicks.”
“You’ve got quite a mouth on you.” He runs his hand over the whiskers of his beard and raises his brows. “I like it. So, what is it you do chase?”
“I’m a writer.” I state proudly.
“Oh . . . that explains it.” He nods as though he already knows my life story, and I bristle.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He leans forward, resting his elbows and forearms on the counter so our faces are inches apart. I’m trying to be pissed here, but with him this close I get distracted studying the way the blue in his eyes catches the dim light.
“People watching,” he murmurs, his tone a seductive allure.
“Huh?” I’m still lost in those eyes and don’t remember exactly what we’re discussing.
“The way you watch people. It’s something a writer does. Finds entertainment and joy in the mundane of life. It’s beautiful, really.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“So, what is it that you write?” His voice is back to a casual pitch and I relax.
“Romance.”
“Ah . . . I knew with that mouth you’d have to have a naughty side. What kind of romance? Fifty Shades or the Fabio-grandma type stuff?”
I roll my eyes. “You do realize there’s so much more to it than that?” A little laugh escapes my lips and his gaze drops to my mouth. I feel the need to lick the parched skin. Fuck. I’m so screwed.
“Only if you want to be,” he says and his eyes blaze with the same heat I feel all over my skin.
“Huh?”
“You said, ‘Fuck, I’m so screwed,’ and not gonna lie. I’d like to help you with that.”
Shit. Double shit. I said that out loud. His perfect beard and kissable lips must have magic powers because I’m flustered.
“That’s a really lame pick up line. I’d expect so much more from you. In this line of work I’m sure you witness all the bad ones.” I gest
ure around the bar with my hand.
He pushes off the counter and laughs a deep, straight from the belly sound, and it fills me with pleasure.
“You’re fun. I like you.” He reaches out a hand. “I’m Brax.”
I place my hand inside his larger one and shake. “I’m Amanda. But you can call me Manda.”
“Nice to meet you, Manda.” He releases his grip and looks around. “I’ve got to check on my other customers, but I’d love to spend more time getting to know you.”
My joy fades and I study the label on my bottle. Discontent sours my mood. We’ve only just met, and yet I can’t help but wish for more time to explore this city and my attraction to this handsome man. “I won’t be here long. I’ve got an early flight to catch tomorrow. Back home to Phoenix.”
He nods and I wonder if he’s not disappointed, too. “Well, Manda. I’m sure you write about all sorts of mind blowing orgasms and unbelievable one night stands.”
I nod, and my lips pull into a wide grin. Why, yes. Yes, I do.
“If you want the real life version, I get off in an hour. No pressure. Just know that I’ll do everything in my power to deliver.” He winks, those lush lips pull up with his smirk, and he saunters to the other side of the bar.
Holy fucking hell.
“Come on, Lo. That’s enough.” I grip Lauren’s arm and pull her from the stage, and more importantly, the microphone. She squirms out of my reach and stops, hands on hips.
“You don’t like my singing?” One tear escapes the corner of her face, and her chin trembles. Oh, jeeze. How much has she had to drink? She’s such a lightweight. It doesn’t take much and she’s an emotional drunk. I don’t have it in me to babysit tonight.