A very warm welcome to author Tal Bauer joining us today here on Love Bytes , to talk about his new release “Enemy Within”.
Tal brought a very explicit guestpost with him ‘wink’, shares an excerpt and there is a giveaway to participate in!
Welcome Tal 🙂
Title: Enemy Within
Series: The Executive Office, Book 3
Author: Tal Bauer
Publisher: Self-Published
Release Date: 3/28/2017
Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 176K
Genre: Romance, Thriller/Suspense
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Blurb:
The White House, infiltrated.
The president, running for his life.
A traitorous general, intent on burning the world to the ground.
When everything falls apart, who do you trust?
President Jack Spiers fled Washington DC on the heels of a devastating attack on CIA headquarters, masterminded by one of America’s own, former General Porter Madigan. While the world believes Jack was killed in the bombing, he embarks on a wild infiltration mission, smuggling himself into occupied Russia to rescue the love of his life: former Secret Service Agent and First Gentleman Ethan Reichenbach.
Reunited, Jack, Ethan, and deposed Russian president Sergey Puchkov, along with President Elizabeth Wall—the only person left in Washington DC who Jack trusts—must work together. They piece together a desperate plan, hunting Madigan to the ends of the earth and the bitter frigidity of the Arctic, where Madigan’s world-shattering doomsday plan comes together.
Outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and outgunned, Jack, Ethan, Sergey, and the rest of the team struggle to put a stop to Madigan and his army. In the desolate extremes of the Arctic, their resolve, their strength, and even their love is tested, pushed to the absolute limits as choices must be made: choices that pit the fate of the world against the love in their hearts, and the loves of their life.
As the world crumbles around them, Jack and Ethan find themselves waging a war on two fronts—against an enemy they can see, and another, hiding within their ranks.
Who can be trusted when the enemy is within you?
Sexual Personalities
(This is an explicit post)
What’s your sexual personality? How do you like to get it on in the sack? Is what you like to do different than what you like to read?
Every person and every character has a unique personality, and that extends into the bedroom, too. In books, we’ve all seen the Alpha Males that talk dirty and love to pound all night long (it seems!) and the wanton nymphs who crave more, more, more. Where do you fit on the spectrum?
Where do our characters fit on the spectrum?
In The Executive Office, President Jack Spiers has traveled a personal sexual journey – one might say revolution. In Enemies of the State, he – unexpectedly – fell head over heels in love with his best friend, Secret Service Special Agent Ethan Reichenbach, despite never before having loved or been attracted to a man. He goes from unsure – but eager! – to an adventurous and intense lovemaker, exploring his burgeoning physical attraction to Ethan. And, once he gives himself permission to follow his attraction, and once he allows himself to explore this side of his identity, Jack’s “personal sexual revolution” proceeds full speed ahead.
In Enemies of the State, Executive Office #1:
“Slowly, Ethan peeled his sweaty gym shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. The cool air of the kitchen had his nipples going hard as beads of sweat evaporated off his skin.
Jack’s eyes darkened. He dropped the fruit, moving to Ethan, who stood motionless with his back to the sink. Jack traced Ethan’s ribs before flattening across his abs.
Ethan shuddered, but stayed still. His knuckles went white where he gripped the counter. Panting breaths escaped his lips as his body trembled.
Jack moved carefully, his eyes tracing the path of his hands, as if mesmerized by Ethan’s chest. His fingers spread across Ethan’s skin, sliding up through his chest hair before hitting a nipple. Ethan grunted and closed his eyes.
They flew open again when Jack licked his nipple.
“Jack…” His knees buckled.
Jack’s hands continued to roam, squeezing his pecs, pinching his nipples, and tracing the lines of his ribs. Jack grabbed Ethan’s waist as he leaned close, nuzzling his cheek before he pressed a lingering kiss to Ethan’s open mouth.
Ethan thought he was going to break the counter. He finally let go and cradled Jack’s face, even though he was practically trembling apart.
As they kissed, Jack’s erection slid against Ethan’s, hot, heavy, and hard. Ethan whimpered and broke away.
Jack pressed a kiss to his temple. “The more I fall for you, the more attracted I am to you,” Jack whispered. “I can’t get enough of you, Ethan.”
Jack then moves on to:
And then, Jack spun in his arms and walked him backward through his apartment and down the hallway to his bedroom. Their gazes were locked, eyes blazing with heat and lust and so much happiness. Ethan’s blood boiled, and his hands trembled as he tried to touch Jack everywhere, wanting everything all at once. He fumbled behind him, opening the bedroom door one-handed while Jack steered him toward his bed. His knees hit the edge of the mattress and he sank down, his eyes darting for the nightstand where he’d laid out a couple of folded towels, a bottle of lube, and a condom. Not that he was presuming. Much. Just hoping. Hoping that Jack would make love to him.
Jack slithered up his body, kneeling on all fours on the mattress and hovering above him. His smile burned brilliant, bright enough to sear Ethan’s soul, and he beamed back at Jack as he cupped Jack’s face in both hands and pulled him down for a long, deep kiss.
In Interlude, Executive Office #1.5, Jack pushes his boundaries further.
They traded slow kisses and sleepy grins, their warm bodies tangled together. Ethan’s cock, half-hard already, stiffened, and Jack grinned. He rocked against Ethan’s thigh, until Ethan rolled him over and slid down his body, pressing kisses to his ribs and his hips before he swallowed Jack deep. Shuddering, Jack ran his fingers through Ethan’s hair as Ethan’s fingers traced ticklish patterns into the soft skin of his thighs.
Ethan reached for the lube and a condom, already out on the bedside table, and pulled them to the bed.
Jack groaned, and his eyes blazed, and he sat up on his elbows as Ethan popped the top off the lube. Ethan sat back, kneeling between Jack’s legs, and poured some onto his fingers. Jack stroked his cock, mouth open, breathing hard.
Reaching behind himself, Ethan rubbed his fingers over his asshole, slicking and stretching his entrance. His lips parted, and he held Jack’s burning stare.
“C’mere.” Jack beckoned him forward. “Let me blow you while you’re―”
Flushing, Ethan clambered up the mattress as Jack propped a pillow behind his head. Jack’s hands steadied Ethan’s hips, and he licked his lips, then kissed the head of Ethan’s swollen cock and slowly sucked him into his mouth.
Ethan worked quickly, more lube and more fingers, groaning through clenched teeth as he tried not to buck into Jack’s hot lips. “Ready,” he grunted. “Ready for you.”
Jack fumbled for the condom packet. The wrapper crinkled as he tore it open, still sucking on Ethan, and rolled it over his cock behind Ethan’s back. Ethan passed him the lube, and Jack poured some into his palm. The sound of him slicking his condom-covered cock shivered up Ethan’s spine.
Biting his lip again, Jack watched, wide-eyed, as Ethan scooted back on Jack’s lap, until Jack’s cock pressed against him. Ethan rose, fit them together, and sank down slowly.
Jack stared, his mouth open, cheeks flushed, hands gripping Ethan’s thighs and nails digging into his skin. Inch by inch, Ethan worked himself down, rocking gently as Jack speared him. The stretch, the feeling of Jack entering his body, writhed just beneath his skin, a liquid heat that slithered through him. His eyes rolled back, and his mouth dropped open.
And further still…
Wednesday morning Ethan woke up to a selfie of Jack lying back in bed, completely naked except for a Santa hat perched on his crotch, and sporting a wide, wicked grin.
Ethan didn’t have a single decoration in his apartment and couldn’t respond in kind, but he sent back a teasing message after he picked his jaw up off the floor.
[Is Santa looking for a helper?]
Yep. But not a little one. 😉
[Oh, trust me. It’s not little. Esp not after that…]
And finally…
Jack smiled serenely, as if nothing were amiss. Ethan coughed. Outside the elevator, Scott grinned at them both, shaking his head. The doors shut.
Ethan dropped his duffel like it was on fire. Jack flung his jacket to the ground. They crashed into each other, meeting in the middle of the elevator, but Ethan backed Jack up until he hit the wall, his hands running over Jack’s body. Moaning, Jack tipped his head back, and he snaked one leg around Ethan’s. Ethan kneaded Jack’s ass. Jack shuddered, and then he wrapped his arms around Ethan’s neck and jumped, both legs going around Ethan’s hips.
Groaning, Ethan pressed him against the elevator wall, driving his hard cock against Jack’s, grinding them together. Jack’s thighs squeezed, and his fingers ran through Ethan’s hair.
“Can you carry me like this?” Jack breathed into his ear.
“Fuck yes,” Ethan growled, nipping at Jack’s jaw. His hands squeezed Jack’s ass again.
“Do it.” Jack tugged at Ethan’s tie, pulling it off and then throwing it on the ground. His fingers worked down the buttons of Ethan’s shirt as he rolled his hips into Ethan’s. “Take me to bed. I want you. Ethan―”
Ethan’s lips found Jack’s, and then the elevator door opened to the [White House] Residence. Ethan carried Jack down the hall as Jack cupped his face, kissing him nonstop, until Ethan laid Jack on the bed and knelt on all fours over him.
They stripped in record time, clothes and shoes flying every which way. Ethan kissed down Jack’s body as each piece came off, swallowing Jack down when his cock was free. Jack kicked out of his pants and boxers and spread his legs wide.
“Lower, Ethan,” Jack breathed.
Ethan froze. His eyes darted up. Met Jack’s.
Jack swallowed. “Please,” he whispered. “I want―” His voice broke off.
Never. Never before had they gone near Jack’s ass. It had been a no-go zone, his entrance something Ethan―and Jack―had shied away from. Jack seemed to enjoy topping, and Ethan had finally understood what he’d heard for years: that, somewhere, there was a top who could convince him to be a bottom.
What was this, then? There was something lining Jack’s eyes, buried in his gaze as he stared down at Ethan. Hunger, lust, and need, but also determination. And―just faintly―uncertainty. Fear, even.
Slow. Ethan had always said slow to Jack. And he’d meant it, every word, every time. If Jack wanted to explore more, go further with his own body, then they’d go slow there, too.
Ethan pressed his hands to Jack’s thighs, gently holding him back, and leaned in. He held Jack’s stare until he couldn’t, and with the first press of his lips, of his tongue, lower than Jack’s balls, Jack flung one arm over his face, over his eyes, and groaned, long and deep.
In Enemy of My Enemy, Executive Office #2 Jack’s sexual identity solidifies, as does his confidence, and he publicly comes out as bisexual. He also deepens his own personal exploration of his sexuality with Ethan.
“Ethan?”
Starting, he turned in his chair.
Jack kneeled on the bed, slowly stroking himself. His burning eyes locked on to Ethan’s. “I want you to make love to me, Ethan.”
Time stopped. He couldn’t breathe. All air had vanished, sucked out of the world with Jack’s words. His skin burst into flames, lines of fire tracing over his body and curling in the base of his gut. He tried to swallow and couldn’t. His heart was suddenly too big, taking up too much of his chest, ready to explode out of him with the slightest touch or movement.
“Jack,” he breathed. “Are you sure?”
Jack smiled. “I’m sure,” he whispered. “I want you to make love to me. I’m ready.”
And…
Jack woke before Ethan. Darkness hovered outside the windows. The sun hadn’t risen yet. They could push the day off some more, push back the world and stay wrapped up together.
It was a not-so-secret dream of his; some days, he wanted to run from the White House, take Ethan by the hand and just run for the hills.
Shifting, his breath caught as he rolled his hips. They’d done it. He’d done it. He’d made love to Ethan, taken his lover inside his body. Crossed the final border, an invisible line he’d been chipping away at since he first kissed Ethan on Air Force One.
He rolled his hips again. There was an emptiness deep inside, a place within him where Ethan now lived.
In the grand scheme of things, it shouldn’t mean much. The night before was just another moment in their love life, another expression of their love. The whole world thought Jack had been taking it from Ethan since the beginning, and he’d never corrected anyone’s assumptions. Now that he had taken Ethan inside of him, Jack had a new realization about just what that really meant. What it was to have the man you loved so deep within you that a part of him touched your soul.
He wanted more.
President Jack Spiers is adventurous, playful, loving, and emotional. Connecting with Ethan in a physical way is just one the ways Jack shows his love for Ethan. Sex, to him, is more than just physical release. It’s one of the ways he shows his love to Ethan, and renews his love to Ethan.
Where will his physical/sexual side go in Enemy Within? How does he love Ethan, and show his love to Ethan, in their next adventure? Find out on March 28th!
What do you prefer to see in your book-lovers? How do you like your favorite characters’ sexual personality?
Enemy Within, Executive Office #3 is up next! Where does Jack’s sexual identity and sexual personality continue to grow?
Enemy Within, Executive Office #3, releases on March 28, 2017 at Amazon, Smashwords, and other eBook & print retailers!
Enemies of the State, Executive Office #1, the first in the series, is available NOW for $0.99 at Amazon, Smashwords, and other eBook & print retailers. Dive into the series now!
The sounds of the convoy coming alive in the frosty morning started clattering through their patch of snowy forest. Grumbled Russian, slamming doors and squeaky metal hinges, the crackle of logs in a fire, and the clang of pots and pans that Vasily insisted on bringing from Volga.
Jack nuzzled at Ethan’s neck, and the roughness of his beard, grown thick in the five days they’d been on the road, scratched over Ethan’s skin just before Jack dropped a kiss beneath his jaw. “Morning, love.”
Ethan smiled down at him, de-cocked his pistol, and slid it into his hip holster beneath their blankets. He wrapped both arms around Jack as Jack turned and faced him. “How are you? Are you warm enough?” As Ethan spoke, his breath clouded the air between them.
“I’m good.” Jack peeled off his gloves beneath the blankets and snaked his warm hands up under Ethan’s jacket and sweater. His gentle, searching fingers found the long line of ragged stitches in Ethan’s side.
Ethan flinched.
“Sorry. You know we need to check them.” Carefully, Jack felt around the stitches, testing the skin, and then rested his palm over the top of the mostly-healed wound. “No heat. No swelling. No pus. No infection.” He smiled. “You had me worried after yesterday.”
Ethan ducked his head, his cheeks warming. While rummaging through an abandoned barn, he’d walked right through a rotted-out baseboard and fallen into a cellar, into the rough, loose earth. Not his finest moment. They’d wrangled some supplies, but he’d come away filthy and bruised, his ego smarting. Jack’s worried eyes and his gentle ministrations after they’d stopped for the night had helped sooth the ache.
Jack’s gaze darted over Ethan’s face, searching. He frowned. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Some.”
“Liar.” Arching an eyebrow, Jack sat back but kept his hands under Ethan’s clothes and on his skin. “You should let me watch over you at night, too.”
“I’d rather do it. I have you close to me.” He patted his hip and his holstered weapon. “I have constant protection on you all night long. There’s no way anyone can get to you. Not without going through me.”
“Literally.” Jack smiled, but it faded fast. “I’ll drive during the day again. Rest, and let me watch over you.” He squeezed Ethan’s hip as if to emphasize his point.
Ethan nodded, and the corners of his lips quirked up. This was new, this give and take of caretaking and watching out for each other. In DC, at the White House, there had been their jobs and their duties and the world to react to. They took care of slights and wounds inflicted by the press, their suits and ties a kind of armor against the world. Out in the wilderness, in the forest, they’d fallen into a different kind of caretaking. A sharing of two lives, each supporting the other’s existence. It was primal, in a way, how they had fused together. Half of his life was in Jack’s hands, and instead of feeling vulnerable, it was the most natural feeling in the world. “Deal.” Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to Jack’s lips.
A question hovered in the forefront of Ethan’s mind, weighing on his thoughts. Every morning, he felt the weight of his secret resting over his heart: two rings, made before the world fell apart around them. Some moments, asking Jack was on the tip of his tongue, ready to tumble from his lips with his next breath. He forced himself to swallow the words. Not yet. It wasn’t the right time. Not yet.
Jack leaned into Ethan, and his hands wound around Ethan’s back beneath his sweater. “At some point, we won’t be sleeping in this jeep anymore,” he whispered into their kiss. “We’ll have room to stretch out… share a sleeping bag…”
Smiling, Ethan pulled off his gloves and brought his hands up to Jack’s face, his thumbs caressing Jack’s cheeks. “We don’t need a sleeping bag…” One hand snaked around Jack’s neck, and the other dropped to his hip.
In a flash, he flipped Jack, laying him on his back across the bench seat. Jack wrapped his legs around Ethan’s waist as Ethan slid his hands through Jack’s blond strands.
Jack grabbed his shoulders and pulled Ethan closer, his legs tightening and holding Ethan in place. He captured Ethan’s lips, kissing greedily as his hips rocked upward. Even through the layers they wore, Ethan felt Jack’s hard cock, pressing against his own.
“I want you,” Jack breathed. “I want you to make love to me.”
Ethan’s blood burned, searing through his body from his head to his toes, and part of him wanted to tilt Jack’s head back and ravage his throat, work his way down, unwrap him like a present until he found his cock. Suck him deep. Work him open with his tongue until Jack begged for more, and then sink his cock into Jack’s warm, tight body. Jesus, he wanted Jack. So much.
The springs on the jeep’s suspension squeaked with their rocking, and the tires groaned and crunched against the snow on the ground. In the distance, low chuckles sounded, and one catcall.
Deflating, Ethan dropped his forehead to Jack’s chest. He rode Jack’s deep, heaving breaths and listened to his racing heartbeat. “I don’t want an audience when I make love to you again.”
Jack’s legs dropped, one falling over the back of the front seat, and the other squishing against the window. His hands stroked over Ethan’s back and tangled in his hair. “I don’t want to have to be quiet.”
“Jesus.” Ethan gripped Jack and surged against him, thrusting against his hard cock once more. “That’s not helping.”
Smiling, Jack rocked his hips up once and then scooted backward, propping himself up on his elbows as Ethan sat back and tried to straighten out his clothes. A prominent bulge strained the front of his cargo pants. He ached, nearly painfully hard for Jack.
From the center of the camp, Scott called, “Coffee’s ready if you are!”
Rumbling laughter, deep and throaty, from nearly all the men.
Shaking his head, Jack started to pull himself together next to Ethan and fished out his balaclava from the pocket of his cargo pants. Outside of the jeep, he wore a full-face balaclava and, on their drive, he kept everything but his eyes covered. Ethan insisted, and Scott and Sergey both backed him up. The members of their convoy, of course, knew who Jack was, and just after Jack had shown up, Sergey had delivered a scathing speech in Russian to his people that had had even Ethan flinching, though he didn’t understand a word that had been said. But, they were traveling through a war zone, parts of Russia that were contested in the coup, under attack from Moroshkin’s forces, and that had been bombed by the United States and other nations, all trying to stop Moroshkin.
Who knew what was out there, or who was out there. Jack was, to the world, brain dead in Bethesda Naval Hospital. A front-page picture of him alive and well in Russia would go over as well as a nuclear bomb.
“Scott came by?” Jack tucked his undershirt into his pants, taking a moment to readjust. His cheeks were dusted crimson, a faint flush that Ethan wanted to nibble.
“Yeah.” He tore his eyes away from Jack and fanned the bottom of his sweater, trying to cool his body.
“How’d the scouting go?”
“The route is clear for the morning. More abandoned villages. They found fuel and some supplies. Vasily is cooking eggs.” Ethan reached out, and his fingers traced Jack’s spine through his sweater and jacket. “And you should talk to Sergey.”
Turning, Jack stared at Ethan.
“I think Scott’s worried about him.” A tight, strained smile, curved his lips. “And that’s saying something.” Scott’s trust in Sergey, and in their Russian allies, extended from meal to meal. Day to day, hour by hour. If everything came apart, Scott would be the first to say “I knew it”.
“He hasn’t wanted to talk to me.” Swallowing, Jack leaned back with a sigh. His hands dropped to his lap, and he picked at the wool fibers of the balaclava. “He’s kept his distance since Volga. I’m not sure I’m the person he wants to see right now.”
Nodding slowly, Ethan frowned. Sergey’s harsh accusations, thrown at Jack at Volga air base, had been the last direct contact the two had. “After all this time, you think he’s pulling away because of…”
Because of their love? Because he and Jack were together? Because Sergey had been loved by a gay man? Was this some kind of reaction, a fear that falling in love with another man “was contagious”, as he’d hurled at Jack?
“He’s pulled back before.” Jack sat forward, slipped the balaclava over his head. He tugged it down around his neck. “I want to do the right thing by him. I don’t want to piss him off.” He frowned, deep lines furrowing his brow. “But, no matter what else is going on, he’s devastated about losing Sasha. I remember what it felt like when I thought you were dead. I can at least try to talk to him about that.”
Ethan’s chest constricted, and his heart almost seized. Was it only a week ago that he’d thought Jack was dead and gone as well? Never, ever, again. He’d do everything in his power to keep Jack safe, keep him from ever coming to harm. And, he’d never lose faith like that again, either. The darkness that had swallowed him on his race from Saudi Arabia to Russia. The emptiness, the silent scream within his soul. The way he had wanted to die, had begged the world to kill him.
Together. They’d face everything together from now on. No matter what.
Adjusting the balaclava, Jack leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Ethan’s lips. “Time to face the music, love.”
Ethan pulled out his own balaclava, tugged it down around his neck, and gripped the door handle. They piled out of the back of the jeep, and Ethan caught the smothered grins and barks of laughter sent their way. Scott raised a dented metal mug toward them both. Jack headed for him, and for the small fire on which Vasily was cooking.
One of the Russians who went out with Scott every morning, Aleksey, slid up to Ethan. Middle-aged, Aleksey had been a federal police officer in Sochi and had fought back with Sergey against Moroshkin and Madigan’s forces the night of the coup. Now, he was one of Sergey’s officers in the insurgency. He had a small beer gut and a thick salt and pepper mustache beneath ruddy, pockmarked cheeks, a quick, sharp smile, and perpetually messy hair.
His eyes glittered as he clapped Ethan on the back. “You are good Russian lover!” he crowed. “Quick!”
Others laughed, and Ethan spied Jack smothering his grin and rolling his eyes as he took the coffee Scott offered. Scott shrugged and hid his smile in his next sip.
Ethan clapped Aleksey on the upper arm, smiling along with the others. When he and Jack had first met the men in Sergey’s insurgency, they’d worried about how they would be received. Two men in love in a country where only months before, Sasha had almost been killed for being gay. Another man, Evgeni Konnikov, had been murdered.
Sergey’s men, however, had been nothing but accepting. They were believers in Sergey’s government, after all, and Sergey had made equality a foundational platform of his politics and administration.
They just showed that acceptance through good Russian ribbing and teasing. The more ribald the better.
“If we had actually got going,” Ethan began, winking first at Jack and then sending Aleksey a grin, “we’d be here for days.”
More laughter. Aleksey wagged his finger in Ethan’s face and squeezed his elbow before handing him a cup of bitter, sludgy coffee. Vasily waved him and Jack over, and he scooped the last of the eggs into a scavenged plastic bowl they shared. “I save for you,” Vasily said, pointing to them both.
Jack thanked him. As they ate, Ethan spotted Sergey standing in front of his jeep, his hands resting flat on a spread-out map of Russia draped over the hood with his head bowed low. He looked up, and his piercing gaze fell on Jack. There was a moment where his face flickered, something dark passing through his eyes, but it was gone before Ethan could catch it.
And then, Sergey folded up his map and climbed into the driver’s side of his jeep. He kept his eyes downcast, not once looking at Jack again.
Purchase
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Tal Bauer is an award-winning and best-selling author of LGBT romantic thrillers, bringing together a career in law enforcement and international humanitarian aid to create dynamic characters, intriguing plots, and exotic locations. Tal is a member of the Romance Writers of America and the Mystery Writers of America.
Pronouns: They/them & he/him
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Sounds like a wonderfully exciting series. Thanks for the delicious excerpts and good luck on the release!
I like my book-lovers to be free from expectations. If he’s built like a jock, does he really have to be the one on top? If he’s on the slimmer side of the spectrum, does he really have to be the one lying in bed on his back? I want them to do things without being restrained by imaginary guides/rules/standards—doing what feels right. =)
I tend to lean to characters who are unsure of their sexual identities too. I know I’ve read some novels where the authors successfully created characters struggling about themselves, not the ones who seem to be pathetic & won’t do anything about their “situation”, but those who are willing to accept the things that make them as a person. I also like them to be emotionally strong but still break sometimes because human’s psyche can only take so much, right?
And finally, I seem to avoid stories with asexuals. It’s hard to understand them, I guess.
I really don’t know how to answer your question accurately, Tal. I hope I’d manage to quite give you the ideas in my head. 😉