Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

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    Author bio: Xara X. Xanakas decided years ago to embrace her weirdness. A friend first described her that way to the man who's been her husband for over twenty years. That formula fits her, and she figures if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Being Texan, her crush on cowboys comes natural, but the techie in her loves to show nerds a good time. She relishes all things different, and brings saucy style to her writing. Whether wrangling a wayward ranch hand or adding another critter to her were-menagerie, Xara strives to make the outlandish appealing. She'll make you quirk a brow and snort with laughter, and that's all right by her. Xara believes that unique is best and happily ever after is the icing on the cookies.
    Give her a shout out at her website , or stalk follow her on Twitter and Facebook .
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COMING HOME
    by Ellen Holiday and Stella Harris

    NSFW—an M/M/M Threesome

    Dear Author,
    I never felt quite right with any of my partners, not male, certainly not female. Something was always missing—and I don't mean physically.
    When I moved to a different city, got a new job with these two, I gradually started to realize I wanted them. Both of them. They're so in love, so fucking in love, that it hurts to watch them when I want them so much.
    This is so unexpected. This was not an option. After all, I'd never risk breaking them apart, because I really lo—shit. I'm in a bit too deep, aren't I?
    Sincerely,
    Tia

    genre: contemporary; ménage
    tags: blue collar; masturbation; poly (m/m/m); slow burn; cohabitation
    word count: 8,744
    Back to the Table of Contents

     
     
    COMING HOME
    by Ellen Holiday and Stella Harris
    Seeing that door swing open, seeing the two men greeting me with smiling faces, my stomach sank. What must they have thought of me, standing on their front porch with the slip of paper that held their address clutched in my hand? It probably looked like I'd just fallen off the turnip truck, stammering and staring wide-eyed. But if my behavior concerned them, they didn't let it show. Instead I was warmly welcomed into their home, and it was unlike anything I could have expected.
    "We're looking for someone who can commit to the project long-term," they said—and I mean "they." One started, the one with the high cheekbones and the disarming smile. Marcus, his name was, and his partner, Bryan, finished. I say partner. He said husband. Husband. Jesus. What a world I'd been transported into, where it was easy to say that out loud and not care. If I looked a bit like Dorothy just come to Oz, can you blame me? I wasn't born in a place where you could look at a guy for more than five seconds and expect to survive with your eyeteeth intact.
    I wanted to think I could live in this world, that I could be as honest and open as Marcus and Bryan, but years of being guarded, of carefully considering every word, leave their mark. I'd learned to be suspicious of anything that seemed too good to be true. And their offer fell squarely into that category. "You're looking for someone to live on site?" I asked, needing to clarify.
    "Yes, we thought it would be easiest that way, with all the work that needs to be done," Marcus said.
    "And we have so much extra space," Bryan added. They sure did, that much I could see the minute I set foot on the property. An old mansion, like something out of a black-and-white movie, with a yard that seemed to go on forever and what looked like a million and a half rooms. But as Marcus and Bryan led me through the house, talking through what they wanted to have done to it, my attention was focused less and less on the details of the job and more and more on them. The way Marcus leaned in and whispered something in Bryan's ear. The way Bryan cheerfully discussed how much the two of them were looking forward to having a Jacuzzi of their very own.
    "Arizona," Marcus said with a nod and a wink. Bryan's face flushed. My stomach turned over in a wave of heat just thinking about it. Marcus' arm was defined beneath the easy drape of his T-shirt. To think of it bare, not to mention the rest of him—and the two of them pressed together in the warm water, smiling and swapping soft kisses under the Arizona night...
    "Are you alright?" Bryan was frowning at me. "You look uncomfortable. God, we've just been talking your ear off. Do you want a drink or something?"
    Before I could answer, Marcus' hand fell onto my shoulder. "Why don't we sit and have some iced tea while we discuss the rest of the