About Satyr-Day Night Fever

by Kiernan Kelly
45 pages / 16500 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-187-7, 1-60370-187-7
Available file types - html. lit, pdf, prc

Bill is uniquely suited to the gay porn business. As a satyr, he's got what it takes for success, and he's pretty happy to let it all hang out. His best friend Mitch is more than willing to help him make movies, but to Bill's dismay, Mitch remains resolutely straight.

Or does he? In a stolen moment, Mitch lets Bill see how attracted he really is, but once that moment is gone, Mitch isn't willing to admit that he wants to be more than friends. Can Bill convince Mitch that they can work together on more than just movies?

Sample

"Yikes," Bill yelped, yanking a hair out from between his brows. That fucking hurt like a bitch! He frowned at his reflection, trying to decide where to tweeze next.

"Bill! Do you know what time it is? Get your furry ass on the set, now! We’re already three hours behind on shooting. Guido is out there having conniption fits. If you make him wait any longer, he’s going to start chewing on the cameraman. Move!"

"Mitch, I’m well aware of the time. Tell Guido the Fagnificent that I’m coming."

"Not until you get in front of the cameras, you’re not."

"Ha, ha…funny. You’re a funny guy, Mitch," Bill answered. Rolling his eyes, he bent closer to the mirror and returned to trying to separate his eyebrows by thinning the forest of hair that insisted on connecting them. He winced as his tweezers tugged another coarse brown hair from his skin. Damn it! He should have gone in for electrolysis years ago.

"Come on, Bill! If I don’t have your butt on the mattress in the next five minutes, Guido is going to call for my head. Please, have a heart, Bill.  Think about my ex-wife and three kids. Alimony and child support. A mortgage. A car payment- "

"Okay, okay! I’m ready," Bill said, sighing. Mitch was the film company’s electrician/carpenter/driver/assistant director, and the only man on staff who actually possessed half a brain. He was also Bill’s best friend, and Bill didn’t want to get him into hot water with Guido because Bill wanted to primp.

Returning his tweezers to the leather case next to his collection of razors – straight, electric, and disposable – he stood up and took one last look at himself in the mirror. Warm brown eyes looked back at him, set in a face that was handsome in a craggy, biker-bear sort of way. He’d warred with his facial hair until he’d gotten it penned into a neatly trimmed goatee that framed his full, sensuous lips.

The irony of a satyr having a goatee was not lost on him.