Rough Cut collects all of Vincent Diamond's stories in one book!
Ranging all over Florida, from the racetracks of Tampa to the horse farms of Ocala and the coastal beaches, these stories are smut with heft. Filled with men who may be a little broken, a little worn down, but who have passion, these characters take chances on love and lust.
These stories are sharp with cut, color, and clarity, focused on feelings and real-life gay men with real love in their hearts.
EXCERPT FROM "Back in the Saddle"
The stallion’s scream nearly drowned out David’s words.
“I have to see you. Please.” David’s voice quavered and he ran his freckled hands down his thighs.
Marcus Denton recognized the need in the other man’s eyes.
Malotov bellowed again, more than a whinny, his guttural call to the mare in the breeding pen sent a vibration through Marcus’s chest. They stood a few yards from Malotov’s stall; the rich odors of manure and hay and horse permeated the September breeze. The stallion paced, moaning, his lush chestnut coat white with sweaty froth from neck to belly. He kicked out and the metal bars of his stall door shook.
Marcus looked over the barn area. In the breeding pen, Dr. Lee bent over his vet’s bag, setting out gloves, cleanser, a tail bandage. A groom adjusted the mare’s protective back pad, talking to her in low tones. She was calm. A nine-year old, she was experienced. Her tail swished lazily; they’d tie it up for her in a few minutes.
David glanced at the others and stepped closer. “Marcus, please?” David raised one hand toward him.
“Don’t do that.” Marcus had to turn away. He felt a twist in his stomach, the unsettling feeling of David’s blue-eyed gaze on him, the desire that heated David’s voice.
Marcus moved into a storage stall and uselessly re-stacked a few hay bales. He felt David’s yearning gaze on him, knew that David was torn about what he saw in Marcus and what he felt. Dust motes wafted in the air, and the smell of fresh hay hung over them.
Marcus took a deep breath and turned to face David. “What if I told you the other night was a mistake? That it can’t happen again?”
The feel of David’s taut torso against him. David’s gasp of passion and surprise as Marcus pulled them together on the office desk, the soft whish of papers fluttering to the floor as they grappled ...
David controlled his face. His eyes didn’t lower, his mouth didn’t turn down. But Marcus saw the sag of his shoulders and his belly clench beneath the sweaty T-shirt he wore.
“I won’t accept that, Marcus. I’m not buying it. You feel it, too,” David whispered. He stood in the stall’s doorway.
Marcus turned away, his throat suddenly tight. Now, he didn’t trust his own face. David stepped into the stall with him, closer. Marcus could feel David’s body heat, smell his sweat and the rich odor of horse that clung to him. Too close. He needed distraction.
“Doc, you ready?” Marcus called. When he got a head nod, he pointed to Malotov’s stall. “All right, Goldie. Show me you’ve learned how to handle a stallion like this.”
A long glance, then David grabbed Malotov’s bright red halter and snapped on the nose chain. He stood at the stall door, his voice soft and low. “Come ‘ere, Malotov, let’s go see the little lady, come on over.”
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