Excerpt Day: Surfing Boneyard by P.A. Brown

[reviews_and_ramblings]

Surfer Boys - Gay Erotic Stories edited by Neil Plakcy
Release Date: 05/2009
Publisher: Cleis Press
ISBN: 978-1-57344-349-4
Publisher Link: http://www.cleispress.com/book_page.php?book_id=311

Amazon Kindle: Surfer Boys: Gay Erotic Stories

Amazon: Surfer Boys: Gay Erotic Stories

Blurb: Get ready for a long, hard ride. Is it any wonder that surfers fuel sexual fantasies the world over? All that exposed, sun-kissed skin, those broad shoulders and yearning for adventure make a stud on a surfboard irresistible. Editor Neil Plakcy takes us on a journey into a breezy, tropical world where surf, sand, and sex come alive. T. Hitman brings new meaning to "beach party" with an oceanside orgy in "Hang Ten." Gavin Atlas's "Blue Star Boy" tells the sexy adventure of an endowed Adonis with a well-placed tattoo. And Jay Starre's randy "Santa Barbara Surf Punk" celebrates the young and hung. Surf's up—and these stories will do the same for you!

Excerpt:

From Surfing Boneyard by P.A. Brown

The first two waves closed out and dumped me in the rough surf of the Boneyard. It was a cool morning, with an early fog just beginning to burn off.

I had driven in from Monterey at daybreak, determined to catch the best waves before the tourist rush. With only the sea lions to watch, it was exhilarating to challenge the gnarly reef and not end up smeared all over it as another statistic for the Boneyard. Kind of like my pitiful sex life had been that summer, a boneyard of wasted effort. It was a lot easier to come to the shore and lose myself in the waves than try to activate a life beyond the beach.

I took my first fall in a comber that blew out and dumped me into unrideable mush. If it wasn't for my rash guard I'd have been scratched up pretty bad. Boneyard wasn't called that for nothing. It was almost as famous for the injuries and even deaths it caused as it was for the spectacular surf it offered.

I spotted him when I came in on my second set. He was lean and blond and scrambled gracefully down the rock bowl toward me, his hair tousled and framing an arresting face that stopped me in my tracks. When he came closer I saw he had the most brilliant green eyes I've ever seen on anyone, and a lithe body I just knew was packed with hard muscles.

I'd never seen him around Monterey before. He definitely wasn't a local. Fortunately he was tricked out in a super tight Hurley rashguard that didn't leave anything to my overactive imagination over a pair of board shorts that hid way more than was cool. Woof, the guy was hot.