End of an Era

It won't be a happy New Year for this fangirl: Supernatural is ending with season 15.That means this is the last time I get to post SPN Christmas pictures. For my grand finale, I'm putting up three. Pour yourself some eggnog and enjoy.

Good Grief, Dean!

A one-moose open sleigh

And a final farewell from the cast

Happy Holidays to everyone!

Release Day Tomorrow ... And That's No Bull

Cock and Bull Story, a M/M shapeshifter romance by J. J. Collins, will be available from Evernight Publishing on Wednesday, May 8. Here's a blurb, and a sneak peek:

Tauro is a bull shifter. Forced to leave the pro wrestling ring, he works off his aggressions as a street fighter. Gallano is a cockerel shifter from a family of famous luchadores. When the irresistible cock meets the immovable bull, sparks are bound to fly … but only if they can fight their way past their own mutual stubbornness.

Contains M/M sex

www.evernightpublishing.com

EXCERPT

He had nearly dozed off when he realized the raking claws had at some point turned into fingers. He peered one-eyed over his shoulder. Gallano’s human face grinned back at him. “Ah, there you are. Care to join me? There’s a lot less of you to pamper in your human form.” He danced his fingers down Tauro’s spine. “Though not by much.”

Tauro hesitated. In bull form, he had a definite size and weight advantage over a human Gallano. He could drive the man off his farm and settle the matter for good. But those hands were hard to argue with. Against his better judgment, he nevertheless morphed himself back into his human self.

Immediately Gallano moved his hands upward, to knead his neck and shoulders. The smaller man cooed at him, pleased. “Yes. So very much better.”

Of course they both were naked now. Tauro stole a glance at him, and was surprised to discover the cockerel bore a mighty fine spear—bigger than he’d expected, with a cap like an arrowhead and mouth-tempting thickness. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to look for a stallion after all.

No. He dare not encourage the pushy little bird. What was he thinking?

He was thinking it had been a long time since a man had stirred his desires. His own great bullish beast began to inflate beneath him, as if it sensed the opportunity.

Unexpectedly, Gallano moved and rolled Tauro onto his back. Taken by surprise, he had no chance to resist. Gallano crowed in excitement. “Ah! There’s the beauty I spoke of last night. So huge! Are all bulls hung so magnificently? I’ve been missing out.” He reached for Tauro’s dick.

Tauro slapped his hand away. “Behave yourself. Are all you chickens so grabby?”

“He who hesitates loses the worm. Or something like that.” He folded his arms on Tauro’s belly, rested his chin on them and stared wistfully at Tauro’s rigid member. “That’s no worm. That’s an anaconda. I know bears who would weep and gnash their teeth to own a dick like that.” He sighed. “And you won’t let me touch it. Such a loss. I suppose I must kill myself now.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye with a finger.

“Don’t be so melodramatic. It’s only a bit of flesh.”

“That’s far more than a bit.”

“Still only flesh.” Tauro fought to keep a devil’s grin off his face. “Nine thick inches of sweet, randy meat that would split you like a chicken breast. You couldn’t even swallow the head without choking. Perhaps you’d rather try one of the goats. They’re closer to you in size.” And get chased from the field by Billzebub. That would be something to see.

Gallano made a disgusted face at him. “Hump animals? Are you mad? What do you take me for? It won’t split my hand if I touch it.”

“You couldn’t wrap your fingers around it.”

“That sounds like an invitation.” He reached again for Tauro’s cock, this time with his eyes on Tauro’s, waiting for a no or go ahead.

Tauro found the urge to stop him waning. He had to admit he was curious—what the man’s hand would feel like, whether he actually could get his fingers around it. What Gallano’s tongue and lips could do to his eager beef stick. How it would feel to have Gallano’s surprisingly hefty cock spearing his mouth, or his ass. Would he taste like chicken?

For You Super Fans Out There

You'd think I wouldn't have missed this, especially with Avengers: Endgame breaking box-office records left and right, and Free Comic Book Day happening on May 4, which was also Star Wars Day (May the Fourth be with you!). But His Super Neighbor, J. J. Collins's tribute to comic books and the people who create them, has been picking up excellent reviews over on Goodreads. It's an M/M romance about finding true love right in your backyard. Or front yard, especially if the hot guy across the street is outside mowing his lawn. No actual superfolk, but there's a man who creates magic with a pencil and paper, and true heroics abound. You can find it here at

  https://www.evernightpublishing.com/his-super-neighbor-by-j-j-collins/

Coming Wednesday, May 8: the release of Cock and Bull Story! I'll post an excerpt tomorrow.

Coming Soon

Check it out - artwork for J. J. Collins's latest release, Cock and Bull Story. No release date yet, but when I get one you'll hear about it.

One thing that struck me funny: The bull shifter in the story has a red coat, so his silhouette on the cover probably should have been red and the rooster's black. Except a picture of a "red bull" might violate a certain energy drink's trademarked logo. We romance writers had enough problems a while ago just for having the word "cock" in our titles. I don't need to start another fight.

As for the storage facility in my local area that's openly using the stylized Superman "S" logo in its company name... Somebody really should warn them before the wrath of Time-Warner rains down upon them like chunks of kryptonite.

Random Bit of Flash Fiction

“What’s this?”

Marissa was waving the box I’d hidden in the hall closet. It’s amazing how quickly my mate could find things I hid from her. Yes, I know I shouldn’t hide things from her, but old habits die hard. My first mate had taught me that hiding things meant I only got yelled at for things she noticed. She hadn’t noticed much, unlike my sweet little witch.

I braced for an explosion and told her. “It’s , ah, I just noticed that we didn’t have any smoke alarms, so I picked some up.”

“Huh. There’s one at the top of the stairs on each landing and one in the coffee shop kitchen,” she murmured, reading the packaging. “These talk to each other?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, nervous at the lack of reaction. “See? When one goes off, it signals the others that there’s an event. That way, if you don’t hear an alarm upstairs because you’re down stairs, you still find out something is going on, because all of them go off.” She made a cute little face at the box. Werewolves were generally attuned to body expression, but I’d never seen that expression on anyone before. Bemused, maybe? “What’s funny about it?”

“Nothing, sorry. I just got a mental image of gossipy ladies from the 1950s all gathering on the street because their smoke alarms all told them that someone burned dinner.”

That mental image bloomed in my mind and an evil thought soon followed. “I wonder if the range can be extended for how far they transmit to each other.”

“Mooney, you are not going to put these things in Ziva’s house!”

“Ohhhhh, yes I can! I still owe Nick from that prank last month! Nothing like having his lady love informed every time he burns his dinner!”