Authors: Thorny Sterling
Tags: #gay romance, #cowboy, #mm romance, #male model
Splinters Copyright © 2014 by Thorny Sterling
Cover Art & Design by Thorny Sterling
Interior Layout by LC Chase
Also available in paperback:
This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locals is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without the written permission of the author, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and for all other inquiries, contact Thorny Sterling via
and the contact page therein.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language that may be considered inappropriate for minors. This book is for sale only to adults, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your books wisely, where they cannot be accessed by underaged readers.
For my husband.
I’m still looking up.
With endless thanks to Anne, LC & mc, and my brilliant beta readers
for their help in making this story better than I thought it could be.
To every blog buddy for demanding a book.
Thank you for all your encouragement.
In loving memory of
Moreland de Havilland
Waking up in a strange place isn't a first for model and actor Allan Seville, but discovering himself alone and bound to a rough plank in the middle of an open Texas range certainly is. With no memory of who did this to him or why, panic sets in, until rescue comes riding up on a big, brown horse.
There’s more to Duke Walters than a handsome face and sexy drawl. In the arms of this rugged cowboy, Al discovers a peace and safety he never knew he needed, and now doesn't want to be without.
But someone wants Al out of the way and drugging him during a movie junket in Houston is only the beginning. A world of differences may separate this cowboy and diva, but when danger strikes again, Duke might be the only one who can get them out alive.
I made every effort to present the legal details in this story correctly. However, I did manipulate some aspects of the law to suit my needs. Thank you for allowing my creative license in this area.
open my eyes, blinking against eye-stabbing brightness. Must have forgotten to close the blinds last night because there’s a hell of a lot of sunshine baking me right now. God, it’s hot. I roll my head, trying to avoid the light, and realize I’m not even in bed. I’m on a hardwood floor. I try to sit up, move my hands, and realize I can’t.
What the hell?
The red filter to my vision clears into a crunchy gold that makes me breathless. I’m not in my hotel room. This is a
. I’m in a field, I’m tied up, and I’m naked.
“Hello?” My voice is shaky and hoarse. I look around, left and right. “Somebody?”
Why am I naked? Why am I tied up with some sorta soft rope to a… What the hell
this thing? A door? I’m naked and tied to a rough plank door-thing that’s propped up beside a…metal something. Whatever. That doesn’t matter. The important thing is not to panic.
Breathe, breathe, breathe
. I can get out of this. I’m okay.
Except, maybe I
get out of this. The banging beat in my chest picks up as I realize my wrists are tied to the corners of the door so my hands are trapped near my head. I’ve got one leg down so I can use it to keep my bare ass from sliding against the prickly wood. My other leg is bent out to the side, the damn rope looped three times at my thigh, knee and calf. I wiggle that leg and manage to move the calf loop to my ankle. Maybe if I can straighten my leg and raise it up—
I lift my head enough to see—and am now really able to
—the rope riding my hips and knotted behind my balls.
I gulp. Oh, Christ, what did I
last night? My head hurts, but I don’t remember drinking. I don’t feel hung over. So why did I blackout? I thunk my head back down on the board and realize something’s wrong with—
Somebody cut my hair! Where the fuck is my hair? I can’t feel it on my neck, my shoulders. All my beautiful hair is— I clench my jaw and squeeze my eyes closed. I am not gonna cry. It’s just hair. I can grow it again. Ten years from now, I’ll have it all back.
But how could they? I’m
for my hair. I mean, I’m not vain about much, but my hair is like
best part of me. Down to my ass, the color of molasses in the sun, thick and with just a bit of curl, my hair is fucking beautiful.
How could they?
“Need a hand?”
I jerk at the sound of a man’s deep voice and abrade the back of my head on the plank as I turn to stare at him. He’s on a horse. There’s a man on a horse staring at me. That actually makes some sense because I think I’m supposed to be in Texas. And I like cowboys. A lot. I’m just not usually tied up when I meet them.
He tips his hat back, leaning on the pommel of his saddle. Grinning. That’s probably good. He’s not angry, so maybe he’ll help me.
“Can you untie me?” My voice quavers through that. My whole body’s trembling now, actually. I try for a few deep breaths.
“What?” I glare at him. “Seriously, dude, I—”
“Name’s Duke Walters.”
He’s introducing himself? Okay, he’s pretty good looking in that sweaty, rough, bite-this-leather-strap-so-you-don’t-scream-too-loud kinda way, but this is so not the time. I feel my smart mouth ready to charge through the building panic and let ’er rip. “Really fucking nice to meet you, Duke. Lemme just shake your hand. Oh, wait! I can’t since I’m fucking