Tucker Vance stood in front of the large dark wood desk in the home he’d shared with Carl, his partn- ex-partner, for the last twelve years, staring at the stack of papers in front of him. With one more signature, their life would be dissolved and he would be free. Until recently that idea would have terrified him, but since he’d learned the truth of the man he’d loved, had thought loved him, he’d spent more time than not trying to come to terms with being alone again.
“Just sign the damn papers, Tuck.” Carl nudged the cheap Bic pen closer to the papers and scowled. “There’s no point to dragging this out and you know it. It’s over.”
Oh, he knew it was over. Coming home to find his long-term lover in bed with another man was not something he was likely to ever forgive, especially not with Carl yelling at him for interrupting them with his “hysterics”. “It’s been over, Carl. It’s just hard to sign away my home like this,” Tucker said, gesturing to the papers and the only other person in the room, a notary.
“You can get a new one, now sign the fuckin’ papers and get out.” The sneer was more pronounced than before, not that Tucker cared. He still didn’t understand why Carl had done this, especially this way.
With a sigh and a deliberate eye roll—he knew how much Carl hated “juvenile” behavior—Tucker sat down again and lifted the pen. His lawyer had already looked it over and it was exactly as they’d agreed upon, but not only was he losing his home, his life, and most of his friends, but the bastard had insisted they do the signing at the home they’d shared, the one he was currently signing away—though for half the profits from the pending sale. “I always have such a pleasant time around you, bunny,” he singsonged as he finally put pen to paper and signed and initialled the papers.
“Don’t you dare call me that!” Carl’s voice rose enough that the sweet little girl acting as witness and notary cringed and shifted away slightly on her chair.
“Carl, I can call you anything I damn well like, but for now, why don’t you try not to terrify those in your employ, even temporarily.” Tucker turned to face the young woman. “Katy, hon, you okay? He won’t really hurt you.”
“I-I know that, sir. Are you done?” she asked, her voice soft as her gaze flitted from the papers to Carl and back.
“Yeah, all done. Why don’t you sign and stamp everything and then I’ll walk you out. Okay?”
She nodded and smiled. A few minutes later, they exited the large two-story Victorian he’d not only lived in, but had designed the remodel of when he and Carl’d first bought the home well over a decade ago. He hated to see it sold, but knew it was for the best. Carl didn’t want the house any longer, his new boy-toy didn’t like “weird old places” and Tucker didn’t think he could live there, not with the constant reminders all around him of the life and love he’d lost on that horrid afternoon.
Refusing to be dragged back into the pain and memories, Tucker again thanked Katy before walking further to his Lunar Blue Metallic Mercedes SUV. The drive back to his office wasn’t long, but it still allowed for far too much time thinking, second-guessing himself and his entire life with Carl.
Tucker was thankful when his cell rang shortly before he pulled into the parking garage connected to the large office complex where Grimes, Tucker, and Bones LLC existed. Clicking his Bluetooth button, he said, “Hello, this is Tucker Vance.”
“Hello, Mr. Vance. This is Cheryl from Ramsey Library at UNC at Asheville. You requested a couple of books. I’m just letting you know they came in and are waiting for you to pick them up.”
“Thanks, Cheryl! How late are you open tonight?”
“Being it’s Friday, only until six p.m. But we’re open tomorrow too if you can’t make it in tonight.”
Tucker looked at the time, almost five now. “No, it’s fine. Thanks for the call. I’ll be in shortly.”
“Great, Mr. Vance. See you later.”
Instead of getting out of his SUV and heading inside like planned, he clicked the Bluetooth again as he backed back out of his reserved spot. “Call office.”
After verifying his request, he heard ringing before the main office secretary picked up. “Grimes, Tucker, and Bones Designs, How may I direct your call?”
“Tammi, it’s Tucker. Can you let Jon know I won’t be back and to make sure everything’s locked up?”
“Mr. Vance? Uh, sure. You want me to put you through to him?”
He chuckled. Tammi was always nervous when talking with any of the partners, but especially with him, not that he knew why. She was sweet, smart, and married so he didn’t think it was anything inappropriate on her part, but... “No, Tammi. If I talk to Jon, he’ll grill me on why and think he needs to cheer me up or something. Just let him know what I said, then make sure he actually goes home at a decent hour. Thanks.”
Jon Turmel had been his assistant for going on three years and was both fiercely loyal and protective. He also knew full well where Tucker had been and would think he was ditching the end of the day due to depression or something. He’d been annoyingly nosey since learning of his and Carl’s split. And while he appreciated the loyalty, especially now, the overbearing coddling from an employee was not amusing in the least.
“No worries, Mr. Vance. See you Monday then.”
* * * *
By the time he made it to the library, it was ten ‘til closing. He whipped into the parking lot, parked, and hustled inside as quick as he could manage.
Skidding to a stop at the front desk, Tucker flashed his best smile at the young man behind the long counter. “Hi, I’m Tucker Vance. I need to pick up a couple of books on hold for me.”
The pimply faced guy behind the desk looked up, a frown on his long, thin face. “Cuttin’ it kinda close mister, ain’t ya?”
“Sorry, traffic. If I can get my books, I’ll get out of your way.”
“Zeke, be nice,” a deep, melodious voice said from behind Tucker.
The sound slithered up his spine before he really even thought about it. He’d not let anyone affect him in years, not even once he knew of Carl’s betrayal. He didn’t trust easily, but something about the voice got to him. Turning slowly, he looked around and down until he took in the only other man in the front area. He wasn’t all that tall, but was impressively built, and damn! was he sexy. Delicate boned, decked out in tight black jeans, a long sleeved T under and short sleeve Iron Man T-shirt, a wallet chain, biker boots, leather jacket in hand, and a chain around his neck. The white blond and vibrant purple hair stood out but somehow seemed to compliment the man’s features, not detract as he would have expected.
Tucker had never been one for flashy men, or rough biker boys for that matter, but something about this guy had his libido interested. “Hello.”
“Hey.” The stranger smiled, a wide flirtatious look that intrigued Tucker even more than the man’s looks or voice. “Uh, he’s talking to you,” the guy said, gesturing to Zeke.
“Huh? Oh.” Tucker turned back to the snippy boy, but pasted a smile back on. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I said, I need to see your ID.”
“Right. Sorry.” Tucker pulled out his wallet and extracted his university ID and handed it over.
The entire time Zeke worked to scan the ID and books before handing it all over, the stranger watched Tucker, his eyes never leaving Tucker for long.
“Ry, stop staring at the dude,” Zeke snapped at his friend.
Ry? Tucker liked it, though he wondered what it was short for.
“Not staring, Z. Shut up.”
“I don’t mind,” Tucker mumbled, not able to make his voice louder. It was nice to have someone attractive look at him in interest, not that he thought it meant anything, but still... it was nice.
Ry stepped closer as Tucker gathered his books from the counter. “You a prof here?”
“Sometimes.” He only taught part-time for the Engineering Department, his main focus being the design of unique home and office spaces via his architectural design company.
Ry looked him up and down once, a slow smile spreading across his beatific face. “Evasive and hot, I like.” He stepped closer and held out his hand. “Riley Ward.”
Instead of taking Ry’s hand in a normal handshake, Tucker gently took Ry’s fingers, turning and raising his hand slightly. He then bent to give a barely there kiss to the back of the knuckles. “Enchanted,” he murmured as he looked up through his lashes. Not releasing Ry’s hand, Tucker straightened, enjoying the light flush and wide eyes his actions received. “I’m Tucker, as you heard.”
“Riley!” Zeke snapped, throwing a paper clip at the sexy but befuddled man as Tucker continued to hold his hand. “Stop gawking and get out of here.”
Tucker ignored Zeke’s outburst, waiting to see what Ry would do. He didn’t have to wait long. “Z, cut the crap and do your job or you won’t have one for long,” Ry ground out, not taking his eyes off Tucker.
“Puh-lese, like you could run this place without me.”
Ry’s head snapped to the side, a dark glower flowing across his face. “I can and will if you can’t do your job right. Now, while you finish, I’m going to escort the nice man here to his car. And clean up the clip.” Before his words faded, Ry looked back to Tucker and grinned again. “How about if I walk you out? It seems the library is closed and we’re in the way.”
Releasing Ry’s hand was harder than he wished to acknowledge right then, but he did, then shifted the heavy books before agreeing, following along with Ry until they stood outside.
“Cool ride,” Ry said, tipping his chin to Tucker’s SUV.
“Thanks. Where’s yours?” Just then he noticed the deep purple colored Harley he’d parked beside and not even paid attention to. “Wait, is that yours?”
“You like Harley’s?”
“I like bikes in general, though I don’t have one.” Carl hated motorcycles, insisted they were dangerous and only gangbangers and fools that wanted to die rode them. Tucker had given his bike up not long after he started dating Carl, though now he couldn’t quite remember why he’d thought listening to the idiot was a good idea. “Other than a Harley, what kind is it?”
“It’s a Night Rod® Special in Deep Pearl Plum.” The pride in Ry’s voice was only barely more than the swagger in his motions as he stepped closer to his bike. “Maybe I could take you for a spin sometime?”
Oh, damn. Tucker wanted to say yes, but the kid had bad boy player written all over him. Still... “I...”
“Tucker? How about if I ask you to dinner and promise to pick you up on my bike later?” Ry purred.
“I... I don’t trick.”
“Neither do I. I’m asking you out, to a restaurant, not for a quickie. Now, you want to ditch the control and preppy life and come out with me?”
“I’d like that, but how about if we meet there and depending on how things go, you might give me that ride after you feed me.” Tucker winked, his stomach doing an amazing impression of a cross between a pretzel and a swarm of hyperactive butterflies.
“Great!” Ry smiled up at Tucker as he tucked a bit of purple hair behind one ear. “Meet me at the Laughing Seed over on Wall Street at seven thirty then?”
“Seven thirty. I’ll be there.”
They stood together, neither moving until a door slammed nearby. “Well, I need to head out if I’m going to meet you soon.”
“See ya, Tucker.” The heated look and how Ry’s voice dropped a little had Tucker’s heart racing even as he wondered what the hell he was doing. Ignoring the little voice, he spun around and climbed into his SUV. Refusing to allow himself to watch Ry get on the bike and leave, he quickly started the vehicle and headed home, hoping he wasn’t making a huge mistake.
* * * *
By the time Tucker was ready to leave for his date—God, what on earth am I doing ?—he’d already changed three times, not sure what to wear. The Laughing Seed was a casual, mostly vegetarian restaurant, so he didn’t think he needed to dress how he had been for work, but all he owned any more was business suits, business casual, and such.
He’d finally decided on a pair of black dress jeans he found in the back of his dresser and a dark green polo. Tucker feared it was still too preppy for Ry, but it was the way he dressed—well, when he wasn’t in trashed jeans and T’s while working on site. Taking one last look at himself in the mirror, he nodded, satisfied. “Besides, if he doesn’t like me for me, why bother,” he mumbled to himself as he collected his wallet and keys before locking up and walking back to his SUV.
He made it to the restaurant with five minutes to spare, thankful he’d left home when he had. Walking up to the front door, Tucker heard his name called and turned. There, striding up to him with a huge smile on his beatific face was Ry. “Tucker! You made it.”
“Of course.” He returned the smile, hoping his nerves didn’t show through too badly. Tucker motioned to the doors and asked, “Shall we?”
“Mmm... yes. I’m hungry and since you’re not on the menu, yet...”
Tucker chuckled. He kind of liked how playful and open Ry was, even if he wasn’t into pickups and tricks, usually. “Be good. I agreed to a possible ride, but not that kind. Not yet, at least.”
“I love the word yet,” Ry singsonged as they reached the front. Ry pulled the door open and gestured Tucker inside, stepping in behind him. A moment later, he felt Ry’s hand settle on his lower back as they waited to be seated.
Their teasing was interrupted when a perky young woman asked how many were in their party. “Just two, miss.”
When they were seated, their server, Katie, brought them water and took their drink orders. By that time, Tucker was starting to fidget as Ry hadn’t spoken directly to him since the first woman had spoken and was being oddly stoic. It was the first time since they’d met that Ry had not been in constant movement, even if it was a foot tap or hands moving as he spoke. “So, um... have you been here before?” he asked, hoping to get some kind of conversation going.
“I’m a regular here, actually.” Rhys said, shifting in his seat as he looked back at Tucker finally. “Love their food and I never have to worry what I’m eating. You want sushi, jalapeño onion fries, or hummus with pita chips?”
“Huh?” Non sequitur much?
“I thought we would start with an appetizer and those are my three favorites here. If you don’t like those choices, we can pick something else.”
“Oh, no! No, you just confused me a minute.” Tucker quickly looked over the menu. “How about the jalapeño onion fries. I love hot food.” And now that he wasn’t with Carl, there was no one to fuss about his ‘weird’ food habits.
“Me too,” Ry said and winked. “Like hot men even better though.”
Tucker chuckled, loving how playful Ry was, even as he wondered if Ry could be serious about anything. “Even if they’re preppy?”
“Oh, especially then. What about you? You like the biker boy or you more of the intellectual, stuffed shirt kind?”
“Intelligent? Yes. Stuffed shirt? No. And while you come off all bad boy player, there’s something more there, I think.” He hoped. Everything about Ry called to him, a fact he couldn’t make sense of. The deep voice was at odds with the lithe, young look, and the man’s body made him hungry for things other than the food they ordered.
“I’m a consummate flirt, that’s true. But as I said before, I don’t trick, so while I may tease, I meant it when I asked you out.” Ry flashed a wide, open smile again. “You never did tell me what you do.”
“Guess I didn’t. I’m an architect and occasionally teach a class or two for the university’s engineering department. What about you? You made it sound like you were the grumpy kid’s boss.”
“Zeke? Yeah, he’s a grouch, especially at closing time, but he’s not a bad kid. I’m the librarian, well, one of them. I also make the schedules and do most of the hiring, so I am his boss of a sort.”
“Never met a purple haired librarian before.”
Ry laughed, a rich, deep sound that wrapped around Tucker, making him want to hear the man make other, more carnal, sounds. “Neither have I. I’m a bit unusual, I know it, but I refuse to be anyone but myself, even at work. Considering I have my Masters in Information and Library Science and am working on my special certification for Museum Libraries, they put up with my hair and leather,” he explained and shrugged.
Tucker looked at Ry more carefully, but the kid, yes, he still looked barely legal, didn’t appear to be old enough for all that. “You have your Masters?”
“I look young, right? That’s what’s confusing you.”
Tucker nodded, curious as to how old Ry was.
“I’m twenty-nine, Tucker. That is what you’re wondering with those big, blue eyes of yours, right? Is that too old for you?”
Shaking his head, Tucker wondered if twenty-nine constituted robbing the cradle. “Not at all. I’m thirty-eight. Is that too old for you?”
“Nope! I don’t see age as being a valid determining factor, as long as both are legal and willing.” Ry’s eyes lit up suddenly. “Oh, food.”
Chuckling, Tucker watched as their appetizer was set down. Ry immediately said thanks to the waitress and snagged the plates, serving some for each of them. Tearing his eyes away, Tucker looked at the food, taking in it’s wonderful scent. “Smells wonderful,” he murmured as he picked up his fork.
When he looked up, he was instantly caught in Ry’s gaze as the man licked the spicy seasoning from his fingers after he nibbled a bit of fry and onion.
“It’s really good,” Ry said, scooping another fry up, holding it out for Tucker to try.
Tucker’s gaze darted around, but no one was paying them any attention. He bent forward and bit the fry close enough to Ry’s fingers his lips brushed them. He sat back, chewed, and swallowed, but Ry still held the last bit out. Without thinking about his actions, Tucker leaned forward again to take the last bit, but when he opened his lips, Ry pushed the fry inside, the tip if one finger slipping through as well.
Feeling daring, Tucker nipped, then licked the finger pad, before sitting back again, entranced with how Ry’s eyes dilated and how his lean body shivered slightly.
* * * *
“Delicious, and the fry was pretty good too.”
“You’re the naughty little one, huh?” Ry asked, his voice deeper than before. “I’d feed you more, but I have a feeling the other patrons of the restaurant might object.”
Tucker shrugged, please with how affected Ry seemed to be. “So, since I have to behave now, what do you suggest for the main course?”
“Well, that depends on your particular tastes and preferences.”
Somehow, Tucker didn’t think Ry was only referring to the food choices. Swallowing his sudden spike of nerves, he focused on the actual food, instead of all the other ways that could be taken. “I’ve not eaten much food like what’s listed but I know I like Indian, Mexican, and Thai. Does that help?”
“Mmm...” Ry’s little moan sounds as he stared at the menu shot straight to Tucker’s groin. He couldn’t remember anyone ever catching his interest this fully so quickly. “You want to split two plates instead of ordering one each only? The Indian Thali Plate and the East West Quesadillas work well as a group meal in my opinion.”
Tearing his eyes away from the beautiful face across from him took effort, but he managed to focus on the menu and after reading what each dish was, he agreed, pleased Ry wanted to share with him. “Thanks.”
“It’s just food.”
Just food, yes, but in all the time he’d been with Carl, they never shared dishes, Carl insisting it was stupid and that they should just order what they wanted. Tucker had always thought it fun to try new things and very... couple-y, for lack of a better word, to share. “I guess, but still, thank you.” Hoping to move things along, and not seem too weird or maudlin, he asked, “So, you’re a librarian and a student at the university, plus you ride a Harley, and have a thing for purple. Anything else I should know?”
“Hmm... I rarely eat meat, my hair color changes often, I don’t bottom, and I think preppy guys are sexy.”
It took Tucker a minute to realize what all Ry’s had said, his brain stuck on the word sexy. Ry really thought he was sexy? “You think I’m sexy?” Wait, did he say he didn’t bottom? Yes! That was another of the issues he’d had with Carl. Carl, like most men he knew, was a switch. Tucker didn’t think there was anything wrong with that, but he honestly didn’t care for topping, much preferring to be the one receiving the pounding. He’d topped, of course, when he knew it was what his partner wanted, but it wasn’t fulfilling.
“Very,” Ry purred, a wicked smile crossing his otherwise sweet face. “And the other point I made?”
It was the first time since they’d met that Ry showed any hint of nervousness or concern. Tucker rather liked knowing that he wasn’t the only one feeling the uncertainty and excitement of their—hopefully—first date. He didn’t want it to be a one-time only thing, not if they continued to get along so well.
“Are you ready to order?” their server asked, startling them both, if the little jump Ry made at the words was anything to go by.
“Yes, we’ll have the Indian Thali Plate and the East West Quesadillas, plus two extra plates so we can share.” Ry was so confident that Tucker didn’t even think about the fact the man had ordered for him as well. Not until after she left, at least.
“I could have ordered my half.”
“True, but since we were sharing, why? Does it truly bother you, having your date care for you?”
Tucker thought about that a moment, but couldn’t think of a reason to be upset. “I didn’t expect you to order for me as well, that’s all. I don’t mind though. I...”
“You’re not used to having someone care what you want?”
Shaking his head, and then nodding, before stopping and tilting his head as he stared at Ry, he mumbled, “Not in a very long time.”
“That’s a pity. Sounds like you need to date a different kind of guy than you have been.”
“Of that, I couldn’t agree more. Oh, and that’s great as I don’t like to top.” Tucker knew his face was red if the heat suddenly radiating off him was any indication. He’d said it though and couldn’t bring himself to regret it when Ry grinned wide before leaning forward.
“Oh, you are delish, aren’t you? I simply love a man that knows what he wants.”
Tuckers mouth went Sahara dry at the heated look in Ry’s eyes. At that moment, he was glad they were somewhere public, as he wasn’t really sure how well he would hold out if he could get his hands on Ry right then. He shifted, trying to find more room in his suddenly painfully tight jeans as the server dropped off their plated and food.
Once he calmed down some, he had a lot of fun chatting and eating with Ry. As the date wore on, he found hope building little by little, no matter how many times he told himself it didn’t matter, that it was fine either way.
When the check came, Ry snatched it up before Tucker could. The boy-man—twenty-nine or not, he didn’t look more than twenty, if—grinning when Tucker failed to pick up the bill folder. “I asked you out, Tucker, so I pay.”
Tucker fought with himself, trying not to argue when he noticed the steel in Ry’s eyes. No one paid for him, ever. Not even in all the time he was with Carl had anyone ever picked up the tab but him. “I... Thank you, Riley.”
“Good, glad I don’t have to wrestle you for it. Well, actually, that might be fun,” Ry added with a wink.
“No, not for that.” Now if things could continue as they were, he might just believe in ‘new beginnings’ and be willing to hope for one after all.
“Now, how about we talk about a next date before you get too far into that head of yours....”
People don’t just materialize into reality simply because you want them to so desperately that waking up breaks your heart.
Liam Grady is the owner of the Feathered Quill, a quirky little bookstore in Asheville, and—though he doesn’t realize it yet—a dream walker. His last relationship failed almost a year ago, and he’s not had the interest or nerve to pursue anyone he’s met since.
Cameron Danu is a tattoo artist from rural Georgia. Cameron is left without a job after his boss, Jose, is forced to close the shop after a heart attack. When Cameron learns Jose has set up an interview for him at a small tattoo parlor in Asheville, he hopes for a fresh start in a new town.
Fate brings Cameron and Liam together, and they realize they’ve met before—in their dreams. A chance encounter and a winged tattoo might lead them to their destiny—if fear doesn’t turn their dreams into a nightmare.
“I found it a beautiful tale of unhappiness changed to romance and then love with a happy ending.” —Rainbow Book Reviews, on “Designs of Desire”
“Designs of Desire is a tough realistic book that is touched by violence countered by the growing love between the two heroes.” —Sensual Reads, on “Designs of Desire”
“It paints a stunning image of rebirth as Deacon and Kaden's relationship begins to unfurl, like a rose as it opens its petals to the sun.” —Carly’s Book Reviews, on “Caged Sanctuary”
“This is my favorite in this series so far. I love seeing how these characters are growing, all of them. As individuals, as couples, as friends, and as a family.” —MM Good Book Reviews, on “Desires’ Guardian”
“The writer did an excellent job with the characters, they are likable and perfect. Not perfect in the way that they have no flaws, but in a way that they grab you and complement each other.” —Love Bytes Reviews, on “Temptations of Desire”
“Tempeste created an amazing world for these paranormal species. I got lost in the story and wondering how all the pieces wove together.”—Molly Lolly, on “Whiskers of a Chance”
Liam walked beside Cam, noting every nuance of the man he’d been with most of his life, even if they’d never met while awake before. He was entranced with how Cam moved. He thought of the way Cam had spoken using his hands to emphasize and punctuate his voice when they were inside the tattoo shop, and even the little sidestep to separate them didn’t surprise or bother Liam any. Liam had expected it, truthfully, but he’d needed to feel Cam, to know he wasn’t imagining all this, either—that fleeting touch in the tattoo shop hadn’t been nearly enough.
Working with Nosha the last couple of weeks had been interesting, and he’d started to believe Cam might be real. However, seeing and touching Cam was very different from trying to willfully take control of his dreams or debating Cameron’s possible existence. And touching him? Liam suppressed a shiver as he opened the door for Cam to enter the little coffee shop.
“Thanks,” Cam murmured. “You always do things like this in the dreams too,” he added so softly Liam almost missed it.
Liam smiled, hoping Cam could adjust to this new knowledge and glad he’d noticed how Liam acted both in their dreams and now.
Thankfully, it wasn’t busy right then, so they got their coffees and were seated at the farthest table from the other patrons in a few minutes. Liam waited, watching Cam as he fidgeted with his cup, steadfastly refusing to meet Liam’s eyes.
Liam cleared his throat and asked, “Will you look at me, please?”
Cam raised his head slowly before finally meeting his gaze. “I don’t understand how you’re here. You’re supposed to only exist in my head. Well, in my dreams, anyway.”
Liam chuckled, thinking of how he’d made the same argument with Di and Nosha not that long ago about his seeing Cam at the club. “I’m still not entirely certain how all this works, but I’m quite real. As are you, it seems.”
The silver eyes before him flashed a moment before Cam snorted softly, then smiled, almost. “Why don’t you seem more, I don’t know, upset? I mean, this should be just as much of a shock for you as it is for me. Or do you go around invading people’s dreams and doing all those things with others you do with me all the time?”
He blinked hard as he thought about what to say and which questions to even answer.
Other Works by Author:
Designs of Desire – Simple Desires*+ – Bound by Desire* – Desires’ Guardian – Temptations of Desire – Truth in Lace* – Desires’ Pride* – Signs of Desire
About the Author:
Tempeste O’Riley is an out and proud pansexual genderfluid whose best friend growing up had the courage to do what they couldn’t—defy the hate and come out. He has been their hero ever since.
Tempe is a hopeless romantic who loves strong relationships and happily-ever-afters. They has done many things in their life, yet writing has always drawn them back—no matter what else life has thrown their way. They counts her friends, family, and Muse as their greatest blessings in life. They lives in Wisconsin with their children, reading, writing, and enjoying life—especially now that they have joined the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence® (as Novice Sister Eroti-Quill… can’t imagine where that name came from).
Tempe is also a proud PAN member of Romance Writers of America®, WisRWA, and Rainbow Romance Writers. Tempe’s preferred pronouns are they/them/their/theirs/themselves. To learn more about Tempeste and their writing, visit http://tempesteoriley.com.