Today Author Nicole Forcine is stopping by on our GRL Tour to offer an Ecerpt & Giveaway on her novel: “This Little Whatever”

TITLE: This Little Whatever

AUTHOR: Nicole Forcine

PUBLISHER: Dreamspinner Press

LENGTH: 270 Pages

BLURB:

Jonathan Mendoza used to live an even crazier life, partying with his tight-knit traveling performance troupe whenever he wasn’t on stage belly dancing. When his sick mother begged him to change his lifestyle, he agreed to try to live sober, but that change is hard. Neither is it easy to stop staring at Dean Winters after he nearly knocks the man over before a performance.

A former recluse, prone to panic attacks after surviving a traumatic accident, Dean isn’t Jonathan’s usual type. Still, Jonathan is irresistibly attracted to him, and decides to cure the itch with a one-night stand. But that night, he’s shaken by Dean’s kindness and consideration—something he’s not used to in a lover or a friend. His best friend, Rachel, who co-owns the troupe with Jonathan, sees Dean as a threat to their friendship and to the troupe—the dream they’ve worked together to build. She reveals a cruel and possessive streak that could do much greater damage on both fronts, and Jonathan realizes he will have to choose between the nomadic life he’s lived and the man who is stealing his heart

BUY LINKS:

Dreamspinner Press

Amazon

“Sorry about the mess,” Dean called behind me. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

The house still looked tidier than any house I’d seen since I was a kid. No holes in the wall, no unidentifiable stains on the carpet. The bathroom had a wet towel curled up on the floor near the tub, the only thing marring its neatness. I stopped myself before exploring the other doors, remembering some form of one-night stand etiquette. It’d been so long, I couldn’t remember how to act in someone else’s home.

If we’d gone back to my house, I’d have had it all down. First, tell Patch so I didn’t get an extra party involved, unless that was the first party’s kink, then game on, we’d show him a hell of a time. Next, get something fermented in him, one drink, maybe two, enough to relax the inhibitions but not cause any problem with consent. Offer something more illegal, be gracious if refused. Dance around the drum circle with extra grinding until he was in a lusty haze, blow him wherever we ended up, then back up to my bed for more. Simple, but effective. Here, my game wasn’t going to work.

“Are you sure you don’t have a wife, husband, roommates, anything?” I returned to the kitchen area to drop my duffel next to the bar before nosing around in the cabinets. Each housed a bunch of funky gadgets that I had no idea what they were used for. He had to be some sort of executive pulling the serious figures if this was all his.

Dean had stayed leaning on the bar as I took my impromptu tour, graciously allowing this nosy slut to check his stuff out like some overexcited  kid. He had his sports jacket off, hanging on one of the bar chairs, leaving only that dark button-down between my eyes and his chest. “Nope, it’s only me. Would you care for something to drink? I don’t have a lot to offer, wine and beer, but….”

“No thanks,” I answered entirely too quickly. No more booze for me tonight. I wanted to be fully aware of what we were doing. Saying no still felt odd in my mouth. In the car, I’d talked up the Tribe and the craziness of our weekend parties, revealing enough to make it perfectly clear what my image was, the sort of guy I’m known to be, hard drinker, hard partier, shameless cocksman. Dean was so different from my usual that I needed to make sure he wasn’t entertaining any crazy thoughts of more than what I was here for.

I took an inward sigh of relief when he didn’t push the drink offer, and promptly regretted it as I looked around the house again. This nice, clean house made my skin itch. It was far nicer than anyone like me deserved. I wouldn’t stay long. He’d promised me a ride home after I rocked his world, so all I needed to do was give him that tumble, be his walk on the wide side, and get gone to let him fumigate his sheets of “bad boy” and go on with his life. If I really wanted to make it final, I could use the address on the bills on the fridge to figure out where I was and walk home. I wouldn’t inconvenience this guy.

My insides gnawed with a sudden attack of nerves, and it was time to get the show on the road before “nervous” became “uncomfortable” became “unable to get it up.” Cocky smile in place, check. Saunter at the ready, check.

And, action.

I stopped right in front of him, my hips popping with every step, eyes narrowed like I’d just spotted prey. “Actually, big guy, I’m more interested in having some more of you.”

About the Author :
Nicole Forcine was born a  strange child and former Georgia peach. When she was younger, she was  never far from a composition book, a pen in hand, and way too many  people in her head (she’s even been known to talk back to them). When  two or more of them talk loud enough to overshadow the rest, a story is  born. After years of writing and storing her tales in those books, she  had a revelation: man, there are a lot of dudes kissing in these  stories.

Her stories include themes of creating families  of choice, how love can come in all forms and supersede all boundaries,  and the joys and sorrows of earning a happily-ever-after.

Currently, she resides in Minneapolis with one of the most laid-back men in  history and his even more laid-back cat. When she’s not writing (ha!),  she’s saving the world/galaxy/humanity as we know it in the world of  video games and general geekiness and opening other people’s mail for a  living.

Contact Nicole by e-mail, littlewhatever@gmail.com, on her blog, http://nicoleforcine.wordpress.com/, on Twitter, @NikiForcine, or on Goodreads, https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7160783.Nicole_Forcine

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