First Chapter Fridays

Welcome, everyone, to First Chapter Fridays– a new feature on my website. Each week, I will post an excerpt from a book by an author I admire, and give you a chance to become more acquainted with that writer’s work. I’m really happy to be part of a community of such amazing writers, and I want to pass that on to you!

Our very first First Chapter (first first?) comes from the indelible A.J. Llewellyn, who sent me an excerpt from Wanted, Book 1 in her Mingo McCloud series.

Summary: Honolulu forensic accountant Mingo McCloud’s lover has cheated on him again. To escape his heartbreak, a severely depressed Mingo moves to the North Shore of Oahu. Eager to start a new life and to forget, Mingo soon learns that Turtle Bay might be the home of big surf, but it also has even bigger secrets. He catches the eye of a mysterious stranger, Jason, a sexy lone wolf with a troubled, sketchy past. The two become embroiled in a tempestuous love affair that turns dangerous when Mingo discovers Jason is spying on him.

Involved in his first big murder case, Mingo needs all his emotional resources to help find a missing young housewife…yet his private life just turned deadly. He has no idea why Jason would be tracking his every move—or even who hired him. Determined to find the truth, he hires big black, bad French former mercenary, Francois, to help him…and discovers shocking truths…Mingo McCloud has gone from wanting to wanted.



Wanted by A.J. Llewellyn
Chapter 1

He was mine for the taking. Standing in line on that sultry morning at Ted’s Bakery in Sunset Beach, I knew I could have him. He was hot. There was something in his gaze, a secret, furtive pain. A restlessness…

Our eyes met. He was standing two feet away from me and I knew, just knew I could follow him home and get naked in less than a minute with him. I took it all in, the pale blue T-shirt, the tight jeans, very closely cropped, almost shaved hair, the wiry, muscular body. He was around five ten, white, with a dash of some kind of ethnic race, and I put him at his mid-thirties. I glanced away again, and by the time I looked back, he’d gone. I breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, I was lonely…so lonely and beyond horny. Six weeks since Kaolin and I had broken up. My stomach clenched at the thought of him. After everything, everything we’d been through, and Kaolin had used and abused me. Again.

It had been a shocking adjustment, getting over all the time we’d spent together. I thought it had been perfect, sublime. We’d made love constantly; we’d made each other laugh… I still wanted to shout out funny things I’d read to him, still found myself hoping for, then dreading a call. I still reached out for him in my sleep. No, another complication with a probably heartless bastard was not what I needed.

I ordered two cups of coffee, half a dozen malasadas and, eyeing the macadamia nut cream pies in the frosty, cold fridge, I bought one of those, too.

“Eh, Mingo.” Soosie, the old lady who baked the pies, inclined her head and I sidled to the far counter. “Give me that.” She took the pie from my hands and pressed another one into them, whispering, “Very fresh.”

“Thank you, Soosie.”

“Anything for my favorite guy, Mingo.”

I had no idea how I got to be her favorite guy in just six weeks, but I kinda liked it. My mother had met some military guy from the base up in Kaneohe and he’d convinced her to move to San Diego, California, with him when he was transferred out. Without telling me, she sold the family house, got rid of almost everything and, in daily emails to me, was lamenting her rash decision.

There wasn’t much for me in Waikiki without her…or Kaolin. I went to my office on McCully as little as possible. All my mail went to the condo I was now renting and all my business could be handled by phone, fax, and email.

So it felt nice to be somebody’s favorite guy, even if it was an elderly woman.

When I walked outside into the bright sunlight, the guy I’d spotted in the bakery was gone. I dropped my parcel into the passenger seat of my island Moke. Six weeks I’d been living on the North Shore of Oahu and I’d changed everything, even my damned car.


Turning around, I saw it was him. He gave me a slow, sexy smile, walking with a swagger toward me. All he had was a large cup of coffee. He wasn’t local, I knew that from the crisp, new-looking jeans and heavy-duty walking boots.

“Wanna ride?” I dropped my two cups of coffee into the holders in front, transferring the paper sack with the pie and donuts into the narrow space behind the front seat.

“Sure.” He eased in beside me, his wary sexuality a major turn on, but also a complete head trip now that he was sitting right next to me. His air of danger was thinly veiled. He was chewing gum. I wanted to take it out of his mouth with my tongue. I mentally shook my head. Quit it, Mingo. You’re just too damned horny.

“Where do you live?”

He was about to point in one direction, then pointed back the other way. He wasn’t only not local, he was a total newbie.

We drove about a mile toward Turtle Bay and he pointed to the right. “Over here.” I immediately veered off the road, startling some red hens that had hopped over the slats in a fence and were pecking at the gravel on the shoulder of Kamehameha Highway. He smiled. I could almost read his thoughts. You’re anxious.

He walked through a high wooden gate and I saw a jumble of houses in varying stages of habitability, but all of them bordering on decrepit. Typical North Shore, I thought. Crappy houses with a drop dead, friggin’ gorgeous view of the untamed shoreline. I followed his fine, muscular ass down a path overgrown with wild thyme. The scent was invigorating. He opened a white door on the side of a house to our left and I entered behind him.

I smelled lemon furniture polish and…some sort of tropical smell. I glanced around. He’d slathered on underarm deodorant before he walked out for his morning coffee. Moving behind me to close the door, I caught his appraising glance and I knew several things about him. He was not organically gay. He, too, was horny and had figured out it was easier to get laid by a gay guy. Ah geez, why did I always attract the straight guys?

He caught my gaze and quickly looked away. I knew so much in that moment and when I saw the unbearable neatness of his small room with no view of the ocean, I felt his despair and knew I should leave. I’d just been hit by Kaolin, the human Mack truck. I still had tire marks running down my heart. What the hell was I doing here?

There was a perfectly made bed tucked in the corner. A single bed for a single man. Either he had been in the military, or prison. I couldn’t decide which. He had a TV on a dining chair, small kitchenette, a dining table with the remaining chair and a big wing chair off to the side.

We stared at each other for a moment. I had to make the first move. I stepped toward him and felt his hesitation until my mouth went to his. He accepted my tongue, though he was resistant at first to the kiss. He let me kiss him and soon, was responding with eagerness. We were both surprised. I knew how hot this was, how good this felt and how good we both tasted.

He held my face in his hands. They were strong hands, fingertips rough, and I ached to feel them on my cock and balls. I took my mouth away from his and his tongue was still protruding when I moved away from his face. He was glassy eyed as I lifted the T-shirt to find what I knew would be there. Perfectly chiseled abs, a sprinkling of hair on the upper torso, and my hands moved over him as he took the T-shirt himself and whipped it over his head. His nipples stared at me invitingly and I gave them passing attention with my tongue. I was too eager for the main course.

“Take your boots off,” I instructed and he tried kicking them off as I unbuttoned the top of his jeans. I saw the Calvin Klein waistband of his underpants and then I lost total control. I slid down the zipper and cupped his perfect, tight ass in my hands as I held him to me. I found his mouth waiting for me. I wanted to spoil him, make him want more. I wanted him to crave men, to crave me, and I shucked down his jeans and underpants, savoring that raging erection just before I released that surprisingly thick, long cock. He was uncut.

I fell in love on the spot. Kneeling before him, I took his cock straight into my mouth and sucked as I frantically undid the ten million laces on those boots. He sighed with abandon as he kicked off the boots and pulled off his pants. His mouth fell into a happy O, and I glanced up to see that he was watching me enjoy my unexpected morning feast. I sucked him the way Kaolin loved me to suck him. I swallowed him, pulled back and all the way off him, plunging back down again. His cock bounced eagerly to be back in my mouth each time I came off him. He was making little sounds…he did not want to beg me for it. He was too proud for that. He just made little primal noises, an instinct in all men for that safe, sexual burial in a hot, warm mouth.

Sucking his cock was as much a pleasure for me as it was for him. I took my mouth off him and told him to get on the table.

“What?” The animal wariness was back now.

“Get up there,” I barked and he obeyed me. He got up on the table, his cock still hard and I grabbed his feet, still encased in his socks.

“Lie back.”

His ass was gorgeous. I knew one day I would fuck him, but for now, I wanted to give him the most outrageous pleasure I could muster. I stroked down on his rigid cock as he lay there looking at me and he waited to see what I would do. He wanted head again and, as I parted his thighs just a little bit wider, I leaned down and kissed him and he gave his mouth back to me. Just a little bit of tongue and I was back to his cock again. I sucked, pulled off, stroked down with my hand and he started to moan. I plunged back down over his cock, my tongue swirling over the head as I moved all the way down to the bass of his shaft. He gasped. I grabbed his balls and squeezed, stroking his perineum with my thumb.

“Oh, my God!” he screamed and came with a violent thrust into my mouth, his cock head almost choking me. But I adored this part, the feeling of a throbbing, coming cock inside me…any part of me. He stopped shuddering and twitching and lay on the table, imprisoned in my mouth, my thumb still stroking him. Perfect. He’d just had the perfect blow job.

I eased my mouth off him, his cock head purple and angry looking. Mmmm…I hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface of keeping this colossal beast satisfied. I placed a kiss on the tip, pulling the foreskin back over the top because I knew from past experience this felt good to an uncut man who’d just come, and he twitched underneath me.

Shit. That was fantastic.” I knew he wanted me to suck him again, but I also knew leaving him wanting more was sublime torture. I stroked down on his cock again and it leapt at my touch. I ran a finger along his asshole, cupping his balls and his gaze stayed on me.

“Welcome to Hawaii.” I grinned and he laughed. I reached up to kiss him again and he closed his eyes this time.

“Have an awesome day.” I bent down, gave those now erect nipples a little bit more attention and was about to leave when he held me to him.

“I need to see you again.”

“You will.” I eased him back on the table and kissed him. He wound his legs around me and I knew that fucking him would be a privilege and a joy. His cock lay hard between us. Christ, Mingo, what the hell are you doing?

I dropped down and started suckling on him again and he thrashed underneath me, hissing, “Yes!” I held his cock in my hand and this time, licked his asshole, sucked his balls in one at a time and he went crazy when I sucked him off a second time. My right hand stayed at his ass, the thumb stroking insistently at his hole. When I slid it into him, his ass sucked it up and he came with the same violent force as he had the first time. God, I wanted to fuck him but I had to go slow.

“Oh…oh…” he kept moaning. I loved looking at the glistening head of that cock as it came out of my mouth. I tried not to think about it being in my ass. He lay there looking at me and I finally extracted my thumb from his ass.

“How long have you been out?” I asked him.


“Out of prison.”

I thought he would run except he was pinned underneath me.

“Two weeks,” he mumbled. He looked suddenly miserable. “How did you know?”

I shrugged. “It’s cool, brah.” I felt him relax then and I kissed him one more time. I prodded around his mouth for the gum he’d been chewing and found it wedged between two teeth and I extracted it with my tongue.

“Hey.” He laughed. His thumb stroked my chin. “And they call me a thief.”

I should have run for the hills, but I stayed for the hard kiss he put on my mouth and then I walked away. My balls were still heavy but I knew the next time I saw him, I would follow him back to the property of half dead houses and lay claim to the hot, emotionally half-dead man renting the small, lonely room at the side of that house overlooking Turtle Bay.


Like what you just read? A.J. is actually holding a contest right now for a free Kindle copy of Wanted! Here are the details:

A.J. Is giving away a kindle copy of Wanted, Book 1 in the Mingo series. So please post a comment to enter the draw to win!

Book 2, Needed, is also available now on Amazon. If the winner has a copy of Wanted already I am happy to substitute with a copy of Needed.

All the Mingo McCloud books (6 so far) are being republished and a brand new book Hogtied, book 7, in which Mingo finally gets married will publish at the end of November.

Alternately, you can buy Wanted on Amazon.

About A.J. Llewellyn:

A.J. Llewellyn is the author of over 250 M/M romance novels. She was born in Australia, and lives in Los Angeles. An early obsession with Robinson Crusoe led to a lifelong love affair with islands, particularly Hawaii and Easter Island.

Being marooned once on Wedding Cake Island in Australia cured her of a passion for fishing, but led to a plotline for a novel. A.J.’s friends live in fear because even the smallest details of their lives usually wind up in her stories. A.J. has a desire to paint, draw, juggle, work for the FBI, walk a tightrope with an elephant, be a chess champion, a steeplejack, master chef, and a world-class surfer. She can’t do any of these things so she writes about them instead.

A.J. started life as a journalist and boxing columnist, and still enjoys interrogating, er, interviewing people to find out what makes them tick.

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