Sunday, May 31, 2015



ROUND 1 of the KAGE Trilogy

My name is Jamie Atwood, and I’m an addict. I never thought I’d say such a thing. Never had a problem being overly-attached to anything in my life. I came from a perfectly middle-class family, made good grades, and had a hot cheerleader girlfriend... but the truth is, nothing ever really moved me. So how did a guy like me become an addict?

I met Michael Kage.

Kage is an MMA fighter. A famous one. I like to think I helped him get that way.

He’s charming as hell, with looks to rival any movie star and talent to back it up. So why did he need to hire me as an intern Publicist? Simple. He has a darkness in him– like a black hole so deep it could swallow him, and me, and everyone we know– and that’s not good for business.

The first time I met him, I felt the pull. I think the addiction began at that very moment. And even if I’d known then what I know now, I would have fallen for him. How could I not?

For me, Kage is everything


Kage pushed his tongue deeper into my mouth, and suddenly I was sucking hungrily at his tongue,

winding my arms around his neck, and pressing my lower body against his. I was desperate to get

closer, to feel through the barrier of my clothing what he had pressed against me. My hunger knew

no bounds, growing exponentially with each passing second as it became clearer that this was not

some fevered fantasy. This was actually happening.

And I was going to let it.

He unwound my arms from his neck and reached down to pull my t-shirt over my head so that we

were skin to skin. The scrub of chest hair against my nipples was exquisite torture, and I moaned,

pulling back to catch my breath.

“Fuck no, you’re not going anywhere!” Kage yanked me back against him. “I’ve waited too long for

this. Been patient enough.” He covered my mouth and face with kisses, moved down to my throat,

and bit the sensitive skin there until I cried out. I was overcome with passion, my breath coming in

quick gasps as I fought to keep it together. I had always thought of myself as a player and a skilled

lover, but I swear Kage made me feel like a virgin all over again.

“Take off your pants,” he said.

“What are you planning on doing to me?” I asked, my voice distant to my own ears as I worked my

shorts down my legs, leaving my boxer briefs on.

“What I should have done when you first got here…”

“How did you know I’d let you?”

He chuckled. “I could tell by the way you look at me. Like you’re eating me alive with your eyes.”

“I don’t do that,” I protested. “I don’t even like guys.”

“Liar.” Kage shook his head and took a step back. “Get on your knees, Jamie.”

“Pardon me?”

“Don’t give me that look. I said get on your knees.”

I wanted to tell him no, that this was insanity, and that I wasn’t gay. I wanted to point out that I’d just

recently had a girlfriend whom I’d fucked soundly on a regular basis. But instead I sank to my knees

in front of him and waited, looking up at his unbelievably perfect body, all muscles and planes and

smooth skin. The boyish face with the five-o’clock shadow, the dark locks of hair that fell loosely

around his face… and that’s when I felt it. He was right. I was devouring him with my eyes, because

God help me I could not get enough.

Maris Black has slowly become one of my favorite authors, in Michael Kage she has given us a gritty, hard to put my finger on character.  This book is the first book in her new trilogy and ends in a cliffhanger.   It is told by Jamie’s POV; Jamie whom concerned himself straight with girlfriend Layla.  That is until he meets Kage at a MMA fight in Atlanta, called to Vegas to be Kages intern publicist for the summer.  Jamie sets up to learn his job, learn about his employer and learn about MMA all at the same time.  

“I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and got a nose full of Michael Kage pheromones.”

Kage is the enigma of this book,  nothing is as it really seems, he trains constantly, only eats a special diet;  Maris gives nothing away about his character,  the first book is setting the foundation of Jamie and Kage’s friendship, work relationship and finally a sexual relationship.  And let me tell you, the sex in this book is smoking HAWT, like page burning smoking hot.  

“The truth was I had a humdinger of a gay crush on my client. Like dicks and balls and ass and muscles and man kisses.  Like gay as shit, Like…ah, hell.”

This book does end in a cliffhanger that makes you want to throw your damn Kindle,  I loved everything about it,  the slow build up, trying to figure out the “real” Michael Kage and I actually loved it being mostly in first person.  Really looking forward to August 24th when we will receive the next Kage installment”.   I.Cannot.Wait!

“This is mine now,” Kage said.
“I don't share,”
“Me, neither.”

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This book was given to me by the author for my honest review.

My name is Maris Black (sort of), and I'm a Southern Girl through and through.In college, I majored in English and discovered the joys of creative writing and literary interpretation. After honing my skills discovering hidden meanings authors probably never intended, I collected my near-worthless English degree and got a job at a newspaper making minimum wage. But I soon had to admit that small town reporting was not going to pay the bills, so I went back to school and joined the medical field. Logical progression, right? But no matter what I did, my school notebooks and journals would not stop filling up with fiction. I was constantly plotting, constantly jotting prose, constantly casting the people I met as characters in the secret novels in my head.Yep. I can blame my creative mother for thatWhen I finally started writing fiction for a living, I surprised myself with my choice of genre. I'd always known I wanted to write romance, but the first story that popped out was about a couple of guys finding love during a threesome with a woman. Then I wrote about more guys, and more guys, and more guys. I was never a reader of gay fiction, and I'd never planned to write it. The only excuse I have for myself is: Hey, it's just what comes out!


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