Into a Crack

by Erin O'Quinn

Into a Crack - Erin O'Quinn - Gaslight Mystery
Editions:Kindle: $ 4.99
ISBN: 9781005448400
ePub: $ 4.99
ISBN: 9781005448400

Gay retro with a twist

For PIs Michael McCree and Simon Hart, life has become…if not humdrum, then unusually calm. Routine cases, daily training with their band of back-street urchins, the incessant games of sex and innuendo—all of it takes on a keener edge when they learn that an arch enemy has somehow slipped through a crack in Ireland’s Old Chokey Prison. Instead of quietly leaving the country, their implacable opponent is out for blood…namely, the blood of two sleuths named Michael and Simon.

The enemy is desperate, and greedy too. Some of the the ones fighting alongside the PIs are excellent, some are rather good, and a few are outright dishonest.

Nothing stirs their imagination and, um, base instincts like raw danger. Both men find themselves sliding into more than one crack in the Roaring Twenties city of Dun Linden as they alternately evade and pursue, duck and dodge, parry and thrust—starting in the bedroom of their own Victorian flat.

 

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Excerpt:

From Chapter 7, "Buggering Around..."

To Michael, the word confidential meant “in my bed, or in yours.”

“Yours.”

“Come on, then, love. Let’s not bugger around…”

…With the fine courtesies.

“Yes. Well, after you, McCree.”

There was never anything he could label “routine” about their…togetherness. Their living arrangements. Sometimes, Simon let a small peeve ruin a perfectly good opportunity. Other times, Michael seemed to have plans outside the flat that did not include his room-mate—usually after a trivial argument. Most often, the subtle back-and-forth of Simon’s own cravings ended in petulant isolation, brooding alone in his too-large bed. 

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The big Irishman never seemed to hold a grudge, which in itself irked Simon, for reasons he could not fathom. But one implacable fact was as obvious as the large bulge in Michael’s trousers—he was always ready for whatever Simon was capable of parceling out.

Such as this moment.

As soon as Simon carefully shut the door, before he could turn around, Michael’s groin greeted the crack of his arse. A hot mouth tested the nape of his neck, and a low voice invaded his left ear.

“Let me towel you off.”

“I’m almost dry.”

“Show me.”

Not answering, Simon turned and surrendered to a close embrace, letting Michael’s lips find his throat, and then his bristled chin. When their lips finally met, the intense heat made him gasp in long-awaited surrender.

Michael spoke into his mouth while fingering the silken sash. “This robe has to go.”

Simon answered with his tongue only, stopping his words, allowing the lustrous fabric to slip from his shoulders to the floor.

Michael stepped back a little, his big hands on each of his partner’s shoulders. Simon knew the gaslight in the room was not low enough to hide his state of readiness.

“Begorra, Simon, ye’re beautiful as a marble statue.”

Summoning all his courage, Simon looked deep into his firefly eyes and answered, “Without its fig leaf.”

“Let me be that leaf…”

Kneeling, Michael enveloped his raring penis in fiery rapture, suckling the whole bloody shaft before letting it escape his mouth with infinite, insolent slowness.

His careful vocabulary forgotten, Simon moaned, “Take my cock. Lick my balls. Ahh, tongue my ass…”

“Aye, tell me more, lad.” Simon somehow swallowed his tight testicles, then released them in bubbles of spit before capturing them again.

“More…”

“Do not move.” Michael was deliberately using the exact words Simon had  uttered on a night, long ago, when he ordered his partner to submit to a tongue inside his crack. Hearing the words now, he almost erupted.

“I’ll come…”

“Shush, tell me how ye love it.”

Behind him now, Michael began to caress the length of his crevasse with a slow tongue, pausing at the hole, moving below, then returning, his fingers hungry as velvet raptors.

“Inside…”

“Tell me, Simon.” When Michael’s fingers spread his butt cheeks, his leg muscles lost all will to move. He was shaking all over…his knees, his thighs, the tip of his weeping cock…

And then the molten tongue slid inside.

COLLAPSE
Reviews:"Bo" on Goodreads wrote:

5.0 out of 5 stars
Oh My Goodness, Please Don't Leave Us
Reviewed in the United States on May 28, 2021
Verified Purchase

This is a startlingly paced, beautifully written crime and love story closing out Ms. O'Quinn's brilliant Gaslight Mysteries. This features PI's Michael McCree and Simon Hart, two completely different people who cannot get enough of each other--until one or the other screws up.

Then they usually are targeted to be screwed to the wall by criminals lurking in waiting and would-be associates betraying their loyalties.

Michael and Simon are two of the most extraordinary characters you will ever meet, and their deep confidence in themselves, if not in their bond, has made this one of the great period M/M romances of the past five years.

If you haven't read this series, you are cheating yourself out of a rollicking ride and riveting romance. Get it now.


This is the final novel of a popular mystery series, The Gaslight Mytsteries, set in the Roaring Twenties.

About the Author

Erin O'Quinn was born almost literally on the side of a mountain in Nevada and was hauled kicking and screaming into the nearest town, fifty miles away, to attend first grade. To this day, she claims to be kindergarten-deprived.

O'Quinn earned a few degrees from the University of So. California, but her real education began on the back docks of the Las Vegas (NV) Review-Journal newspaper; on the good-old-boy car lots in Abilene, TX where she sold new Chryslers and used cars; and in a big-box store in Austin, TX where she alternately hauled pallets and ran a garden center.

You'll find a lot of action-adventure, and a character-centered, plot-centered group of seven series and a few stand-alones

Of 46 published works for adults, 33 (I think) are in the gay lit (M/M) genre. From the Noble Dimensions series (small town/contemporary) to Old World Ireland, Jacobite-era  and modern Scotland; and back to the retro world of Ireland in the Roaring 20s, she says, "My men, and my settings, are no-frills, no hearts and flowers. But I think a certain nobility and even spiritual element often creep in among the honest sexual feelings."

Any reviews you see are unsolicited, and are always welcome.

Settle back, enjoy what Erin O'Quinn calls "literotica with a flare for the unusual...thoughtful and plotful...men with passions too big for their britches."


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