|Romance for real life and a bit beyond
|* * * * *
KC Kendricks never disappoints!"
-- Fallen Angel Reviews
"..beautifully moving in all the
right places...KC Kendricks gives
us a well-crafted tale"
- The Romance Studio
"Good to the last word...."
- Sensual Reads
..."Seriously entertaining and
- Joyfully Reviewed
"...solidly written contemporary
|Contemporary gay romance - the Men of Marionville series
These stories can be read individually. They feature characters in the same community, all friends. They do
not need to be read in the order in which they were written to enjoy them fully, but they are numbered for
those who prefer to do so. For more about the Men of Marionville series, click here.
This website is intended for use by consenting adults and mature readers only.
It is not intended for any unmarried individual under the age of 18.
Subject matter deals with the consensual sexual practices of adults in the forms of
romance novels, gay fiction and gay literature including gay males, gay love, and gay sex.
Copyright KC Kendricks All Rights Reserved.
Piracy is a crime.
|Station to Station
Book VII in the Men of Marionville series
Scott Thomas welcomes the assignment when he’s is
tagged to a high profile project that demands expertise.
His love of trains makes him a natural for the job. When
a friend invites him on a Mystery Train Dinner gets
more than he ever dreamed about when he meets his
ideal tall, dark haired stranger on the train.
Dakota Reece views the new commuter rail as the
opening he’s needed for him and his brother to build
their own firm and future. Planning a start-up company
while working on the commuter rail project is hard
work and Dakota takes an evening off to relax on the
Mystery Train. When the train stops to serve dinner,
Dakota is boldly cruised by a fellow passenger. He has
to get to know this smart, sexy man and asks Scott to
join him for a drink.
Scott and Dakota hit it off and a quiet cup of coffee
leads to unexpected possibilities - and consequences.
Their budding relationship could cause a multi-million
dollar conflict of interest charge. When Dakota makes a
sudden decision to advance his timeline, Scott will do
whatever is necessary to keep them together, on track,
and avoiding derailment.
The object of my interest was perched on the deck railing, smoking a cigarette. His gaze locked with
mine, bright with the witchy curiosity a gay man has in another. I walked up to him and boldly lifted the
fag from his fingers, took a drag, and exhaled to form a smoke ring.
Huh. I didn’t think I could still make them." I handed the cig back to him.
“Nasty habit. I took it up in my teens and quit when I was twenty-five.”
He took a deep drag and exhaled. “I get up every morning and say I’m gonna stop, but I don’t. How’d
you do it?”
“A bad case of tonsillitis. But every once in a great while, I still want to get a taste. It convinces me I
don’t need them.”
He grinned and flicked the butt into a sand bucket placed for that purpose. “You’re lucky if you can
just taste and still keep away.” He held out his hand. “Dakota Reece.”
I pressed my hand to his warm, warm palm and dared the gods to zap me with a lightning bolt. “Scott
Dakota’s strong fingers closed around mine and I realized the extent of my foolishness. If I let this
man get too close, he’d rip out my heart and hand it back to me, bloody and lifeless.
Hell, it’d happened before and I’d lived through it. He fixed me with a ruttish stare. “You’re not ‘with’
the guy you’re with, are you?”
I swear I saw an electric blue aura form around him. It flickered and danced over his shoulders, wild
with tangible temptation and the promise to burn me to ash.
“Nope. He’s a good friend.”
He ran his thumb over my knuckles. “Good. When we get back to Marionville, I’ll buy you a drink.
Where would you like to go? Frolic? Or someplace quieter?”
This gorgeous creature wanted to have a drink with me? I knew when to throw caution to the four
winds…and the time was now.
I pulled him off the rail and slipped my free hand around his waist. Raw awareness crackled between
us, man to man, laden with male pheromones and a shared knowledge we innately knew how to make
the other moan with pleasure. I wanted to be sure, and kissing him was the most expedient way to
strike a spark—or not.
My guess about his height had been right on, and he was just a tick shorter than me. It made kissing
him easy. I pressed my lips to his, just a quick, soft touch that turned clingy when neither of us
seemed to want to back off. He met me with an open eagerness that threatened to buckle my knees,
and we never parted our lips. My body responded and then the sudden aching pooling of blood in my
groin convinced me I needed to pull away before I got completely stupid with this guy in plain view of
anyone who walked out the door.