Excerpt
1
AS ASBJORN helped the
others put the mats away, he realized he had had a surprisingly good
time. He saw no good reason to reveal his identity as the new karate
club teacher. Not yet. Staying incognito for a little while longer
appealed to him, and Sean Gallaway caught his attention as someone
interesting. There was a sense of centered power within him, a sense
of playful relaxation that Asbjorn had encountered only a few times
in his fifteen years of martial arts training.
He found he wanted to
like the guy.
His heart flared with
hope that Sean Gallaway wasn’t one of those “all flash, no
substance” one-trick ponies.
He knew he should have
introduced himself like a civilized human being and negotiated the
use of the mats for his class—but there was a memory of his body
being guided unwillingly in a circle and then falling on his back—and
he liked
it. He
shivered at the memory of Sean’s light touch, his warm, long
fingers on Asbjorn’s neck. Sean threw him onto his back with merely
a twist of a hip and a sweep of a relaxed arm. Asbjorn knew, deep
down, this shorter, smaller man had the ability to wipe the mat with
him almost as readily as Tiger had done all those years ago.
His desire to remain
incognito was further fueled by the knowledge that Thorpe-sensei had
wanted to cooperate with this Sean Gallaway, see what he could learn
from him. It would take just a few weeks before Asbjorn would get a
handle on the timing behind these simple throws.
Just a few weeks
during which he would be just another guy to this Sean Gallaway of
the wild, sunshine hair and molten brown eyes. He didn’t know why,
but when he thought of being thrown by Sean, of sparring with him,
his breath quickened and he felt a feral grin form on his face.
Suddenly,
it wasn’t just about the mats anymore.
Excerpt
2
Sean didn’t know. He never tried it. Burrows-sensei disapproved of contamination by other martial arts.
“Contaminating aikido by other arts would make it too easy to resort to violence,” he said, repeating the word he heard so many times. “If you are defending yourself, and if your timing is right and you keep the principles in mind, all you have to do is trust the technique to work.”
The response to his rehearsed words was action. Strong arms on his biceps and hips against his hip.
Asbjorn pushed him roughly against the brick wall of the building next to them.
“Do something, Sean.” Asbjorn’s voice was calm.
Sean was pinned.
He curled his wrists in and attempted to raise his arms, but with his hips immobilized, it was impossible to use his whole body. He could not simply curl a man like Asbjorn. Frustrated, he stomped on Asbjorn’s foot.
Asbjorn smiled. “Sometimes, your style will be incompatible with the style of somebody else. You can also be smaller or physically weaker.”
The stubborn set of Sean’s jaw told Asbjorn he tried to resist the impending feeling of humiliation and defeat. Sean said, “You’re saying there’s nothing I can do.”
“No. I’m saying you have to learn a few dirty tricks.”
“I can’t use my hands.”
“You can use your head, though. I’m close enough for a head-butt. If you hit my nose with your forehead, I’ll let go right quick.”
Asbjorn loosened his grip on Sean’s arms and slid his large hands onto the rough surface by Sean’s head. He kept his hips pressed forward, his face buried in Sean’s hair, and seemed disinclined to move.
“Sean.” Asbjorn’s voice was but a whisper.
“What are you doing?”
There was a pause before Asbjorn broke the silence. “I’m wondering that myself.”
Sean didn’t know. He never tried it. Burrows-sensei disapproved of contamination by other martial arts.
“Contaminating aikido by other arts would make it too easy to resort to violence,” he said, repeating the word he heard so many times. “If you are defending yourself, and if your timing is right and you keep the principles in mind, all you have to do is trust the technique to work.”
The response to his rehearsed words was action. Strong arms on his biceps and hips against his hip.
Asbjorn pushed him roughly against the brick wall of the building next to them.
“Do something, Sean.” Asbjorn’s voice was calm.
Sean was pinned.
He curled his wrists in and attempted to raise his arms, but with his hips immobilized, it was impossible to use his whole body. He could not simply curl a man like Asbjorn. Frustrated, he stomped on Asbjorn’s foot.
Asbjorn smiled. “Sometimes, your style will be incompatible with the style of somebody else. You can also be smaller or physically weaker.”
The stubborn set of Sean’s jaw told Asbjorn he tried to resist the impending feeling of humiliation and defeat. Sean said, “You’re saying there’s nothing I can do.”
“No. I’m saying you have to learn a few dirty tricks.”
“I can’t use my hands.”
“You can use your head, though. I’m close enough for a head-butt. If you hit my nose with your forehead, I’ll let go right quick.”
Asbjorn loosened his grip on Sean’s arms and slid his large hands onto the rough surface by Sean’s head. He kept his hips pressed forward, his face buried in Sean’s hair, and seemed disinclined to move.
“Sean.” Asbjorn’s voice was but a whisper.
“What are you doing?”
There was a pause before Asbjorn broke the silence. “I’m wondering that myself.”
Excerpt
3
THE QUALITY of silence around him awakened him. Sean strained his ears in vain for familiar sounds. The car traffic of Cambridge was replaced by the gray, early morning stillness of nearby woods. There was no sound of a clock ticking, no popping of ancient radiators, no footsteps of fellow students overhead. The silence was like a blanket of cool, morning fog, comforting and private.
He turned toward the source of breathing to his right. This was Sean’s first-ever opportunity to observe Asbjorn at leisure. His eyes, deep like the ocean blue, were closed, their pale eyelashes stretching down in a graceful arc. It amused Sean to find faded, sun-kissed freckles on Asbjorn’s nose and cheekbones—a testament to his heritage as well as to his lifestyle. The scar splitting his right eyebrow was still angry and red, a reminder of his bout with Don, a fight without a victor. Sean let his gaze travel down the chiseled planes of Asbjorn’s exquisite, sharp cheekbones, his lovely and defined jaw blurred by morning stubble, his stubborn chin. Above his chin, his lips: lush and generous and tinged pink with promise.
Sean leaned forward, sharing his breath with Asbjorn, feeling the stirrings of air on his nose. He brushed his lips against the stubbly jaw with a soft caress.
Asbjorn opened his pale lids. “What time is it, Sean?”
“I dunno. Early.” Sean reached for his cell phone, only to realize it was still in police custody.
“What day is it?” The pressure-cooker of recent events had left him disoriented.
“Uh, Thursday. Thanksgiving.” Asbjorn’s voice was still clogged with sleep.
“Shit.” Sean hit his head back against the pillow. The lab. He never handed in his stupid physics lab report.
Asbjorn reached for him with his large hands. “Shh. Don’t worry about anything right now.” Asbjorn’s voice soothed him. The strength of Asbjorn’s arms filled him with strange awareness as he was pulled in closer. The warmth was comforting, and he did not resist. He felt a cool nose nuzzle his neck.
“Bjorn!”
“Hmmm?”
“You’re not helping.”
“Not helping what?”
Sean blushed. “My morning situation.”
Sharp teeth worried the tan skin of his shoulder. Soon, a warm, wet tongue laved the nibbled skin smooth again. He felt sensuous lips taste of his arm and neck, and Sean felt himself arch. His morning wood was now a fearsome force of nature.
He felt Asbjorn press into his lower back, feeling his heat and the smooth hardness trapped between their bodies.
“Good to know I’m not alone in my predicament.”
THE QUALITY of silence around him awakened him. Sean strained his ears in vain for familiar sounds. The car traffic of Cambridge was replaced by the gray, early morning stillness of nearby woods. There was no sound of a clock ticking, no popping of ancient radiators, no footsteps of fellow students overhead. The silence was like a blanket of cool, morning fog, comforting and private.
He turned toward the source of breathing to his right. This was Sean’s first-ever opportunity to observe Asbjorn at leisure. His eyes, deep like the ocean blue, were closed, their pale eyelashes stretching down in a graceful arc. It amused Sean to find faded, sun-kissed freckles on Asbjorn’s nose and cheekbones—a testament to his heritage as well as to his lifestyle. The scar splitting his right eyebrow was still angry and red, a reminder of his bout with Don, a fight without a victor. Sean let his gaze travel down the chiseled planes of Asbjorn’s exquisite, sharp cheekbones, his lovely and defined jaw blurred by morning stubble, his stubborn chin. Above his chin, his lips: lush and generous and tinged pink with promise.
Sean leaned forward, sharing his breath with Asbjorn, feeling the stirrings of air on his nose. He brushed his lips against the stubbly jaw with a soft caress.
Asbjorn opened his pale lids. “What time is it, Sean?”
“I dunno. Early.” Sean reached for his cell phone, only to realize it was still in police custody.
“What day is it?” The pressure-cooker of recent events had left him disoriented.
“Uh, Thursday. Thanksgiving.” Asbjorn’s voice was still clogged with sleep.
“Shit.” Sean hit his head back against the pillow. The lab. He never handed in his stupid physics lab report.
Asbjorn reached for him with his large hands. “Shh. Don’t worry about anything right now.” Asbjorn’s voice soothed him. The strength of Asbjorn’s arms filled him with strange awareness as he was pulled in closer. The warmth was comforting, and he did not resist. He felt a cool nose nuzzle his neck.
“Bjorn!”
“Hmmm?”
“You’re not helping.”
“Not helping what?”
Sean blushed. “My morning situation.”
Sharp teeth worried the tan skin of his shoulder. Soon, a warm, wet tongue laved the nibbled skin smooth again. He felt sensuous lips taste of his arm and neck, and Sean felt himself arch. His morning wood was now a fearsome force of nature.
He felt Asbjorn press into his lower back, feeling his heat and the smooth hardness trapped between their bodies.
“Good to know I’m not alone in my predicament.”
Author: Kate Pavelle
Just about everything Kate Pavelle writes is colored by her life experiences, whether the book in your hand is romance, mystery, or adventure. Kate grew up under a totalitarian regime behind the Iron Curtain. In her life, she has been a hungry refugee and a hopeful immigrant, a crime victim and a force of lawful vengeance, a humble employee and a business owner, an unemployed free-lancer and a corporate executive, a scientist and an artist, a storyteller volunteering for her local storytelling guild, a martial artist, and a triathlete. Kate’s frequent travels imbue her stories with local color from places both exotic and mundane.Kate Pavelle is encouraged in her writing by her husband, children and pets, and tries not to kill her extensive garden in her free time. Out of the five and a half languages she speaks, English is her favorite comfort zone.
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From Arlena's Book Reviews: Breakfall By Kate Pavelle
Title: Breakfall [Book 1 of the Fall Trilogy]
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Genres: Contemporary, Erotica, LGBT, Romance
Reviewed By: Arlena Dean
Rating: 4
Review:
"Breakfall" by Kate Pavelle.....
What was this novel about?
"Sexual assault doesn't discriminate. Aikido instructor Sean Gallaway learns that when he falls prey to a violent stalker. Asbjorn Lund, a karate sensei on campus and a Navy vet, yearns to teach Sean how to survive. How to overcome. How to recover. Sean feels hunted and alone as the stalker escalates, testing his boundaries. With the entire dojo at his back, Sean resolves to play bait. He will catch the animal stalking him and reclaim his sense of self if it's the last thing he does. Yet Sean's hunger for justice clashes with Asbjorn's protective streak, and their budding romance might not survive their war of wills."
My thoughts from the read...
I thought what a interesting book cover and when I went on to find out what this novel was about I thought this may be good so I read "Breakfall." And YES, it is about gay partners. I must say I did like the martial arts going on but I really wasn't able to follow it all due to all of the references and its sayings? However, I kept on reading and found the two main characters were definitely alpha males and after all that happens the main question will be will they be able to work it all out in the end? There will have to be a lots of giving of space for one of the characters and for the other one to back off some but isn't that what love is all about...being there for each other and the give and take? Will these stubborn alpha males learn how to love each other while maintain their individuality? Well, I will not give any of it away other than to say you will have to pick up this read "Breakfall" to see how this will bring it all out to the reader. You will have to wait and see because this author will leave the reader with a cliff hanger, so we will have to wait for the next trilogy!
