Excerpt of Through Neon Eyes: Promise-Part 1 by Michael Barnette
Book Three of the Through Neon Eyes monthly series
Released March 2007
Available from Mojocastle Press LLC


With his life-- and emotions-- turned upside down David finds himself unable to concentrate on his work because his mind is just not on his research. His thoughts are on the new experiments he’s been part of in his apartment. Experiments that are whetting newfound appetites for things more satisfying than food or money. Research involving his own psyche and an addiction called Bells.

The elevator came to a halt and the last person stepped out, leaving Jessman alone with his thoughts. Thoughts of a slim blond-- his hair in a tangle of braids, a riot of beads, feathers and his trademark bells-- with a vidstar face and the body of a young god.

Or an angel. One of the fallen type.

Considering the path his life had taken in the last twenty-four hours, the latter was the most likely. He'd follow the blond's lead into the fires of Hell if that was where they were headed, and he'd do it with the same bemused grin he had on his face.

Jessman sighed and abruptly became aware of the ache in his groin, the firmness of his own cock.

How long had he been in such a state of arousal? The whole elevator ride? The entire day?

His lips quirked into a slightly self-mocking smile.

No wonder the other people had been so eager to escape his presence.

He must seem like some kind of perv to them, standing there with his stiff dick and a load of paper in his embrace. He was laughing when the doors to the elevator opened for the last time. He stepped out on his floor. A floor he shared with only seven other apartments.

Yes, he was well thought of here at NeuroTech. The head of his own specialized research department, rather than being the bright mind under the watchful eye of a higher placed departmental mind and the idiots of middle management.

It was a position of some prestige, but he was still in his probationary period and had to be careful.

Far more careful than he'd been today, now that he considered it.

He'd done nothing of use since he'd gotten to work, and he wondered how much damage he'd done to his tenuous position with his lack of focus. People who shirked didn't hold their jobs long.

Not when every moment of every day was tracked via computer, logged and saved to lightcube for later analysis. Flagged for low productivity. Reviewed.

Yes, today had been a disaster that couldn't be repeated.

Not if he wanted to keep his job, and keep breathing.

People weren't fired from a place like NeuroTech, they were 'dehired' with a bullet, or a silent gas put through the air ducts of an apartment's air treatment system. Losing your job meant losing your life.

The thought sent a chill of fear down his spine and he sighed, realizing there would be an inevitable accounting of his actions. Or rather his lack of action.

His smile was gone as he headed for the door of his apartment realizing that he'd been so distracted today he'd forgotten to even have lunch or take most of his permitted breaks.

He was hungry and thirsty but all he could focus his mind on was the man awaiting him in that apartment.

Bad as it was, the threat of reprisals for his poor performance today couldn't totally dampen his enthusiasm for the gunwhore who was waiting for him.

Shuffling the papers to his other arm he was about to place his hand on the door lock when the door opened to reveal...

A slim body clad in nothing but a black leather harness, pants and a gunbelt. A harness that clung to the nicely muscled chest in black bands that contrasted with smooth skin. Jessman's eyes went bright with lust, his already hard cock jumped as his gaze fueled his desire to a feverish heat. The harness, the pants and the gun made an erotic picture that took the man's breath away, and stole the last few shreds of rationality left to him. It was too much, hid too much.

Revealed even more.

A sudden shower of white cascaded to the floor, Jessman staring at the vision before him, body gone hot with lust and memories that drove the last lingering doubts from his mind. Yes, last night had been as real as that morning in the shower.

And he'd been promised more.

Like a man enmeshed in a dream, a sleepwalker with no control of his actions, Jessman took a step closer to the gunwhore, arms reaching for what he wanted.

Illusive as mist the smaller man danced out of his reach to turn when he had the coffee table between them. "Pick up the mess you've made."

Jessman blinked. "What?" His expression showed that the papers from work were the farthest thing from his mind. Even if his erection hadn't shown which head was in control of the dark-haired man's thoughts, the confused expression would have.

Bells laughed, the sound soft and low. "You're really out of it, aren't you?" he asked the taller man as he hopped over the coffee table. Glancing at the scattering of paperwork, the cobalt gaze lifting to the man's face, his lust dazed expression. A slight smile played at the corners of the blond's lips and he reached up to caress Jessman's cheek, his hand feeling cool to the passion-heated researcher.

From his cheek to his hair was a small move, carried out quickly, the fingers taking a firm grip.

A gasp was torn from Jessman's mouth, the hand in his hair forcing him down. He was so lost, wrapped in desire, lashed by the tiny kiss of pain that he craved that he went to his knees without any hesitation.

Purchase Through Neon Eyes: PromisePart 1. This book is also available at Fictionwise, and in print from Genre Connections.