Title: SNARED (BOOK 1)
Series: TYLER KNOLL’S JUST FOR FUN
Author: A.B. GAYLE
Genre: Satire, Humor, Gay, Gay romance, LGBT, Gay Contemporary
Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing
Tyler Knoll was born one wild, stormy night in April 2013.
Of course, Tyler might tell you he was born twenty years earlier, but should we believe anything he says? That’s for you to decide.
In Tyler’s first adventure—like many a gay man before him—he was SNARED by gay porn, wallowing in tales of bigger, stronger, harder….
Prize: $10 WIP Gift Card
TYLER KNOLL’S JUST FOR FUN
BOOKS 2, 3, & 4
Want the whole Tyler Knoll’s Just for Fun series? Check out books two, three, and four, to be released on July 10th: SHREDDED, SLASHED, and SCREWED
In Tyler’s first adventure, he was SNARED by gay porn….
Then his fickle mind was seduced and SHREDDED by the prospect of BDSM and slavery.
When a Big Misunderstanding SLASHED at Tyler’s sanity, almost costing him his life, he turned to another genre for his salvation. But even this encounter proved potentially hazardous—not from freezing temperatures, but at the hands of irate fans.
Finally, tired and SCREWED by his all his trials and tribulations, he discovers—like many storybook heroes before him—that sometimes Mr. Right is closer than we think.
Everyone who buys SNARED gets a 20% discount when buying the JUST FOR FUN Composite of all four novellas (SNARED, SHREDDED, SLASHED, & SCREWED) from the WIP website!
Check the website for details.
FROM BOOK 1: SNARED
The jock was still sitting opposite me. Still staring at me as if he could read what was going through my mind. It’s a wonder he didn’t look totally baffled. If I was actually listening to what I was thinking, I’d be baffled, that’s for sure. Should I smile? Speak first? Lick my lips and give him that clichéd signal that I thought he was hot? He was. Like lions are hot. Or bears are hot. Think about it. They must be, mustn’t they? All that fur, especially when they’re living in a hot climate. This guy was hot and hot. Get me? I suppose I should wax lyrical here and talk about why he was hot. Soft curls springing up around in his head like a halo? Nope. Eyes that twinkled with merriment? Ditto. Full lips that were meant for kisses? Again nah. Look, it’s probably easier to say that he was the opposite of all those things. Tough, mean, narrow set and that was just his eyes. I’m sure he hadn’t blinked ever since I sat down. This was developing into one of those staring matches that you have at school.
Back then, I never won, and I didn’t win this one now. I blinked.
A faint smile curled the edge of his thin lips. Why did all the tough, mean, narrow characters turn me on? Why couldn’t I be attracted to a nice cuddly bear? The sort that just wanted to wrap me up in their arms and fuck me gently? I had been told that I was definitely otter material.
“Erm… my name is….”
“I have a room upstairs. Let’s go.” He stood and waited.
“I’m not going to fuck you down here. Unless you’re into that kind of exhibitionism.” He gave me a smile, but it ended up more of a leer. In fact, I’m sure he meant it to be a leer.
“But…” I spluttered. “We haven’t even been introduced. I just came here for a drink with my friends.”
Without speaking, he handed me a handkerchief. White with a blue pattern around the edge. I let out a sigh of relief. Not black or red. For a second I thought I’d stumbled into a leather club and my beautiful skin was about to covered in whelps, or I’d go home with a permanently gaping anus, thanks to this guy’s muscly forearm being shoved up it. Did I mention that he was built like a shit house? And forget the brick kind, he was more the cinder block variety.
“What’s this for?” I asked, turning it around and checking to see if there was some sort of message written on the back, telling me what was going on.
“To wipe behind your ears. They’re obviously wet.” Without checking to see if I was following, he strutted off.
Unlike many authors, A.B. GAYLE hasn’t been writing stories all her life. Instead she’s been living life.
Her travels have taken her from the fjords of Norway to the southern tip of New Zealand. In between, she’s worked in so many different towns she’s lost count. A.B. has shoveled shit in cow yards, mustered sheep, been polite to customers, traded insults with politicians. Sometimes she needs to be forgiven as she get confused as to who needs what where.
Now living in Sydney, Australia, A.B. finally has time to allow her real life experiences to morph with her fertile imagination in order to create fiction that she hopes her readers will enjoy.
A.B. values feedback on her writing, both negative and positive.
A.B. GAYLE can be found at: