Acting Out Excerpt

8 Feb

It’s my day to blog and I have a cold. Rather than ramble at you with medicine-induced nonsense, how about I treat you to an excerpt from chapter three of Acting Out? It’s my upcoming release from Loose Id and the follow-up novel to No Apologies.

Somehow, I didn’t think you’d mind. But that might just be the cold medicine talking… *wink*


Jeremy Ash, aspiring actor, is single, gorgeous…and openly, quietly gay. When he lands a starring role opposite America’s favorite former child star, 21-year old Kit Harris, he’s ecstatic and more than a little attracted to the enigmatic star.

Kit Harris’s career has been flagging and his agent promises this new film, an edgy coming out story with a famed director, is just the thing to get it back on track. The problem is that the film is relatively intimate in nature, and Kit’s definitely not gay. He’s not even slightly bent.

When the two men collide in a crushing first kiss that leaves both gasping for air, Kit’s left reeling and Jeremy’s left wanting. And that was just the audition. When filming starts and the two men are brought into close proximity every day, passions ignite and souls collide–both on screen and off. The two men find that the only way to assuage their mutual lust is to give in to it. Kit’s sure this strange new attraction will run its course; Jeremy’s hoping it never has to end.

But when a manipulative model obtains salacious film footage of the two men in bed, Kit’s prepared to do whatever it takes to save his career. But how far is too far to push the boundaries of love and how long can one man hide from himself?


Kit faced the conference room wall and silently cursed his agent. Fucking bastard thought he could re-make a childhood actor with a high profile, controversial project or two. Well, he’d found one film guaranteed to make the critics sit up and take notice all right. The question centered on whether or not Kit’s fandom could survive the bait and switch from boy wonder to art film fag.

Kit didn’t dare show his trepidation about acting in a gay-themed film in front of Falkner. He didn’t come here today with a death wish. If Kit so much as looked at Falkner the wrong way on this one, he knew he’d be paying for dental work. The guy might not be out, but everyone knew he’d dated producer Aaron Blake for years.

“Let’s go again,” Falkner said. “Same scene.”


“I have a photo thing at seven.” He glanced at his watch expression deliberately neutral. His years in Hollywood taught him how to lie and lie well.

“We’ll only be another ten, fifteen, or so.” Vance shot his lunch bag at the trash can across the room, and it missed.

The dark haired kid–Jake? Justin?–scooped up the bag and tossed the crumpled brown ball of paper into the basket. He wasn’t half bad as an actor–definitely trainable–and from what he knew of Falkner and Stone’s wish list, a good fit for the part.

Red pencil slashing at the script, Falkner scribbled changes to the dialogue. Stone looked over a pile of headshots for other parts and the kid picked at the remnants of his water bottle label with his fingernail. Kit moved closer to watch him worry the thing down to the glue.

“It’s dead,” Kit said finally, unable to stand the scraping sound any longer.

“Huh?” The kid looked up, his brown eyes showing surprise at having been addressed.

“You killed it.” Kit jerked his chin first at the bottle then at the trash. “How ‘bout you bury it?”

“Oh. Sorry.” The kid put the bottle under his chair and jammed his hands in his jeans pockets.

Kit tilted his head to one side and studied the guy’s face. It really was remarkable how much he looked like Falkner. They could’ve been brothers–from the unruly lock of hair that seemed to delight in teasing the wide expanse of his forehead to the pillowed cleft in his bottom lip.

“What’s your name again?” Kit asked.

His potential co-star pushed the hair off his forehead and mumbled, “Jeremy Ash.”

Kit held out his palm–least he could do if they ended up sucking face four or five times a day. Jeremy’s hand slid into his with a cool pressure and their eyes met. Black lashes, thick and long, framed deep set eyes, giving them a depth and versatility of expression Kit both envied and found unsettling. Jeremy gazed up at him with a self-effacing openness that worried him. The kid might be gay, but he didn’t need to let himself get eaten alive—and that’s exactly what stood to happen if he kept that expression on his face in this town.

“Pleasure,” Kit said after a too long pause.

He turned away and grabbed his water. The kid’s taste still lingered on his tongue–a hint of orange and spice he found unsettling. Especially since they’d managed to find the rhythm of their roles so easily.

“Try this.” Falkner folded away his black rimmed reading glasses and handed Jeremy the changed script.

Apparently there were no changes to Kit’s lines and he found himself with nothing to do but study the other actor. Head bowed, dark hair falling into his eyes, Jeremy lip-read the lines with a mesmerizing intensity. The movement of his mouth focused Kit on the one part of the guy he most needed to forget.

Kissing Jeremy hadn’t been nearly as bad as he’d feared. He’d managed to remain professional. In character. Which probably explained why he’d felt his heart race and his palms begin to sweat at the contact. The tentative brush of tongue shouldn’t have made his cock swell in his pants, but it had–something he needed to find a way to counteract. Playing with the plastic water bottle cap, Kit rolled its ridges between his fingers as he contemplated his strategy.

Going over the scene this time should be easier. Not so much of a surprise. He’d be a little more aggressive and see if that helped. Something about the soft, romantic approach he’d taken felt too much like Jeremy…er…Greg was his girlfriend. Taking a more macho stance would remind Kit of his power. His hetero leanings.

“When you’re set,” Stone said, glancing at his watch.

“Sure thing.” Kit turned to Jeremy. “Ready?”

Jeremy nodded and held out the edited script. “You want to use it?”

Kit gaped. He’d heard of actors with photographic memories, and after years in television he could memorize a script fast, but not that fast.

“The changes were for you,” Kit pointed out.

“I know.” Jeremy tilted his head to one side.

“Your funeral.” Kit took the curled sheaf of papers.

Ignoring the sarcasm, Jeremy glanced at Falkner.

“More anger. At yourself,” Falkner said, reading the silent question in the quirk of Jeremy’s brow.

Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking Falkner’s walled-off posture. Dark brow lowered, angled jaw hardened, he assumed the character he’d intuited both from the page and Falkner’s person.

Kit glanced at the dialogue and then in silent question to Stone who said, simply, “You love him.”

“Great,” Kit muttered, his stomach clenching in a way it hadn’t since his first breakfast cereal audition.

They ran through the lines. Again time and place telescoped to project a new reality on Kit’s inner screen until he forgot who he was. Where he was. And then came the kiss.

Gazes clashing, he and Jeremy came together in a crash of wills and mouths that rocked Kit’s world. Upended it. Made him fight for every ounce of control he’d ever claimed. With his mouth, Kit owned his on-screen lover. A fistful of hair. A tug at the back of his head to angle it just so. He stole Jeremy’s breath and breathed it back when he deemed fit. Pressure increased the intimacy of his cock with his zipper, biting deliciously into his flesh, making him aware of the exhilarating thrum of adrenaline as he gave chase and brought down this decadent wounded animal of a man.


The plunder of tongues and scrape of tender flesh against canines. The tinny taste of blood. Every sigh, moan, touch, drove his ardor higher. The rub of tentative fingers against his nipple had him tearing his mouth away to gulp cool air into his lungs.

“Jesus Christ.” Falkner’s voice sliced through Kit’s arousal.

“Cut! Cut!” Stone shouted.

Kit pulled back and wiped his arm across his mouth. At some point he’d stood. Loomed over Jeremy. Borne down on him with the violence of the kiss.

Jeremy stared up at him, eyes glazed, cheeks mottled with heat.

“Fuck.” Kit fell into his chair.

He shook his head and breathed deep before he glanced around to find everyone staring at him. Falkner looked smug–his lips pulling at the corners, eyes sparking with an emotion that on anyone else Kit would’ve called humor.

“All set?” Kit asked wishing for a cool cloth for his face.

“Yeah.” Stone cleared his throat. “All set.”

7 Responses to “Acting Out Excerpt”

  1. Marianne Winning February 9, 2012 at 1:16 am #

    Wow that is hot! Awesome writing!

    • Tibby Armstrong February 9, 2012 at 7:18 am #

      Thank you, Marianne! It’s so much fun to share with you! 🙂

      If you’d like a large size postcard of the cover to the first novel, No Apologies, please send your snail mail address to and verify you are over 18 in your email.

      You can view the cover on 🙂

      Best wishes,

  2. Paul Weimer (@princejvstin) February 9, 2012 at 7:35 am #

    Thanks for sharing, Tibby 🙂

  3. Denise Tompkins February 9, 2012 at 11:35 am #

    LOVE IT! I SO can’t wait for this book to be out. It’s going on me pre-order list as soon as it’s available! Thanks, Tibby!

  4. Patti P May 3, 2012 at 12:23 am #

    Wow that was ummm more than hot …what is more that hot?? blazing?? yep maybe that but more!
    gotta read this one!
    musicalfrog at


  1. Acting Out giveaway! « Passionate Reads - May 2, 2012

    […] For a sneak peek at Acting Out, visit here. […]

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