A new stand alone MM Romance




Taylor Langford was only thirteen years old when his world was torn apart, his parents killed during a supposed robbery gone bad. With no other living relatives, the young boy certainly would have wound up another statistic of foster care were it not for the intervention of the Policeman that found Taylor hiding in the crawl space his mother hid him in that fateful night.

Frank Moore went to work for the Dallas Police Department not long after he graduated from the academy. He was still a rookie when he and his partner answered a call in one of the cities more affluent neighborhoods, Devonshire. At first they thought the young boy in the various pictures in the home had been kidnapped until they found him, shaken but alive, in a crawl space in the attic.

Officer Moore recognizes the pain in the kid’s eyes, having lost his own mother when he was just a boy to cancer. He intervenes. Making sure Taylor is placed with a loving foster family and over the years, becomes a permanent fixture in Taylor’s life.

A decade later the case still remains unsolved and the once gangly, uncertain teenager is now a college graduate coming home to the man that helped mold and shape his life, the man he’s loved for as long as he can remember, Frank Moore. But Taylor isn’t the only person returning to Dallas and while Frank is distracted, trying to convince Taylor that infatuation and love are two entirely different things, the past creeps up on them, determined to finish what was started ten years ago. 


Add Survivor to your TBR shelf on Goodreads


{NOTE: This story is still a work in progress, final blurb will be crisp, clean and edited}


Cover art by Author Chris Ethan of Ethereal Ealain




Meet Taylor and Frank! 


I’ve been a fan of actor Matthew Daddario for a while and always wanted to write his likeness into a character. I especially fond of Matthew in the role of Shadowhunter Alec Lightwood on the Shadowhunters. When I first started laying out the character Taylor, Matthew continued to pop into my head as Taylor. He’s tall, dark and handsome and the perfect fit for the story and the character. 



I was a huge Sonny and Will fan until Days lost their mind and completely destroyed the couple. That was where I first saw Brant Daugherty as one of Sonny’s boyfriends. Frank is ten years older than Taylor in the story and I think that Brant and his appearance when considered age wise along side Matthew is the perfect fit. 






The tentative release date for Survivor is August 1st at this time. Depending on writing, editing and scheduling I’m hoping a little sooner but that will all depend on circumstances. 







A military brat born and raised at Ft. Benning Georgia;

TM Smith is an avid reader, reviewer and writer. A Texas transplant, she now

calls DFW her home. Most days she can be found curled up with a good book, or

ticking away on her next novel.


Smith is a single mom of three disturbingly outspoken and

decidedly different kids, one of which is Autistic. Besides her writing, she is

passionate about Autism advocacy and LGBT rights. Because, seriously people,

Love is Love!



Author links: Amazon || Smashwords || Website || Facebook || Twitter 



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What Would My Last Meal be? #MFRWauthor #lastmeal #friedchicken

Welcome to week 24 of the MFRW authors blog challenge. Whew what a mouthful! This weeks topic is If I Could Eat One Last Meal. I don’t know about you but this one seems a little morbid to me. LOL. I mean what do you think when you think of choose your last meal?  I think of death row or the end of times, or your death bed. Why else would you have to choose your last meal?  But then again this question is on so many interviews or top lists. I didn’t sit and think long. I took the first meal that hit my head which is my favorite. Fried Chicken, Mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits, sliced tomatoes, cucumbers ( only if these two are in season) onions and a slab of chocolate cake. You notice I didn’t choose any veggies.   It’s all carb loaded, full of fat and totally southern LOL!

Sure I could have picked  something like an expensive steak or Lobster which would be nice but to be honest, second choice would be catfish, fries, and hushpuppies. Still a fried  meal. Oh yeah that chocolate cake or peach cobbler!

I am just a simple girl and if you’ve read these posts you will notice I have chosen or mentioned this meal a few times. It is my favorite. Its my comfort. It is home.  So yeah my last meal would simply be the Fried Chicken meal but please let’s make it home made and not a chain restaurant! I like mine quite simple. The way my mom taught me. If you eat it too much it is probably a heart attack waiting to happen but if its your last meal..who cares?

Here is my recipe.

1 whole chicken or 4 leg quarters ( to feed 4 people)

1 cup buttermilk

all ingredients are estimated as I haven’t measured in years I just mix and add more if needed.

Flour 1/2 cup ( maybe more)

2 eggs

salt (1 TBSP)

Pepper ( 1 TBSP)

Garlic powder ( 1 TBSP)

Italian seasoning ( 1 TBSP)

Heavy pan with oil. ( I use Canola)

Wash chicken pat dry. salt pepper both sides. Arrange in single layer in a bag or pan with butter milk. let sit  over night or at least a few hours.  Turn at least once.  Put flour and seasoning in a shallow pan. Break eggs  into another and beat. Heat oil til hot. dip chicken into flour, egg back in flour then place into oil.  fry  one side until brown, turn. fry in batches. Drain on paper towels.  You can skip the buttermilk for a different variation.

What would your last meal be?  Let’s go see what the other bloggers chose?

Don’t Mislead Me #MFRWauthor #bloghop #petpeeves

Welcome back to the MFRW 52 week blog hop challenge. It is week 22 and our topic is our biggest pet peeve in a book. This is harder than I thought it would be since I read so much. After much thought and deliberation I think most of mine spring from the blurb or pumped up reviews. #1 I hate reading a blurb, gettign all excited and the book delivers nothing the blurb promised. Don’t get me started on the cute blurbs that are just hyped up one liners, such as…A captivating story of love, hurt, romance  and mystery.  Ok, that’s all good but tell me a little more about what this book is about not a generalization. Tell me something about these particular characters and the plot. Make me want to pick this up and buy it. Now once I have it in my grubby little hands nothing irks me more than the story being completely something else than the blurb  suggested. If it says some mystery give me some mystery not one page of a quick rundown. If it promises romance give me some not one scene at the end.


I also don’t like  big words or names in a story. Keep it simple so I don’t have to stop every page and look up a word or try to sound out a name that not even in the dictionary. That kills the flow for me.

Since i am avid book reader I also am picky. If you borrow one bring it back and I hate seeing people that dog ear or leave a book open upside down. Please use bookmarks and put it on your bedside table or where it belongs after reading.

What is your biggest pet peeve in books?

Let’s go see what the other bloggers biggest pet peeves are.

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Cat’s Meow~~May special~~Mayfly by Kenneth Weene #mayfly

Cat's Meow Reviews That purr books

Hi, Y’all! Welcome back to Cat’s Meow! I have a special treat for you all today. My dear friend Kenneth Weene has written a story especially for us.

Hi, Y’all! Welcome back to Cat’s Meow! I have a special treat for you all today. My dear friend Kenneth Weene has written a story especially for us.

desk logo

Mayfly by Kenneth Weene

Dedicated to Mayflies everywhere;

driven by one primal urge and doomed to its too quick fulfillment.


He checked his watch. Two forty-five. Damn! Careful to smile, Hector Fragon took a selfie video of the line extending behind him. “Line, line, line. Enough! #college #registration #amwaiting”

“What a waste,” Hector said to the guy in front of him. “This line’s too much; I got stuff to do.”

“Like I don’t,” the taller young man answered; “but we got to register.”

There was a slight move ahead and the two shuffled forward.

I’ve been here forever and I’m still not inside the gym. Should have listened to Mom and gotten here early.

Hector looked over his shoulder.

Hell, look at those fools even later than me. The line must go all the way out to the river.

The Myrtle River flowed right through campus. “It use to smell,” the student guide had told them during the tour. “Like the school, it’s been cleaned up. Now you can even swim in it.”

“That’s wonderful,” Hector’s mother had replied and smiled. She wanted her boy to stay close to home and Myrtle College was perfect in her eyes—ten miles and he could come home weekends.

Yeah, right, Mom, come home. Not happening. Tell her, Dad.

Of course, he knew that Dad wouldn’t say anything; Dad never did.

“What’s the chick situation?” Hector asked when he could whisper to the guide. “Are there enough to go around?”

“Yeah, man, don’t worry. Fifty-five percent so more than enough.”

Hector poked him in the ribs and added, “Don’t tell my old lady I asked.” The young man who had introduced himself as Larry, a sophomore and receiving financial assistance; hence the job as tour guide and having to wear the dumb blue blazer with the school’s insignia—two large bugs seemingly kissing and the motto in Latin that translated, at least according to Larry, to “Making Love of Life Possible.”

At least Mom had agreed to college even if it was only ten miles from home, and Hector was feeling the urge to get college life going. Standing in line for hours was definitely not on his agenda, not on a beautiful May day.

May was made for lovers. Maypoles and dancing. Dancing and making love. Making love and then…

He poked the taller boy. “You know where the girls hang?”

The young man took in the line with a broad-handed gesture. “Look around you.”

“Yeah, I know, but afterwards, where we can hook up.”

“I wish I knew. I just got here, too.”

“Yeah,” Hector sighed in agreement and frustration.

The line shuffled two feet closer to their destination. “This sucks.”

“Yeah,” the taller boy echoed.

“Let’s split.” Hector wanted to get out of line, wanted to get about his business, about his real business, the business of finding girls. He wanted to, but he didn’t quite dare, not unless somebody, anybody agreed. After all, he didn’t want to look like an idiot. He held his breath and waited for the other guy’s response.

“I don’t know. I mean what if we can’t register. What if we don’t get into class and have to go…home?” The last word pronounced in a sinister whisper.

“Come back later. This line will take forever. We’ll just be the last names through the computer instead of being lost in the middle.”

“Yeah, but where?”

Hector remembered something Larry had said. One of the other guys in the tour group, a real stud, played football he said, had asked, “How’s the fishing around here?”

“Good,” Larry had replied. “There are lots of fish along the river, almost like they’re waiting to jump your pole.”

“By the river?”

“You think?”

“I know!” Hector puffed himself with assurance.

I knew it.

Hector recognized the girl at once. She had been part of that campus tour. “What a beauty,” he had thought then as he looked her over. He remembered: Tightfitting blue blouse sweater highlighting boobs that sent blood surging downward; Short brown hair that demanded the touch of his fingers; A quick smile that filled him with doubt and reassurance; Her mouth as sweet as any appetite might desire.

Damn, wish I got her name.

“Hi,” he said as he strode towards her. “Remember me?”

“Not really.”

“The campus tour.”

“Oh, yeah. How you doing?”

“Great. You?”

Did I brush my teeth this morning? Hope I’m not too sweaty. What can I say?” A wave of thoughts tumbled through his head, but always on the top, Will she? Won’t she? Will she?

“Finished registering?” he asked hoping she would say no and they could talk about the stupid, endless line.

“Sure.” Her voice had the purr of a contented cat. “I got here last night, stayed in the hotel. Fifth in line this morning. What about you?”

Fifth in line, wow. I guess she’s serious about school. I’d better… Lie. Yeah. I guess…

“Well, not fifth, but I’m done. Made it before the big push. You should see that line. Glad it’s over; too nice a day.”

“So, what are you going to do with it?” Her dark green eyes smiled.

“Spend it with you.” The words ejaculated from his mouth.


Okay. Okay. The word sang in his heart.

Hand in hand they walked along the river. The afternoon flowed with the water. They sat on the bank kissing and stroking and talking about movies and bands and plans—real and fictitious—for the semester that was just beginning, for the future that neither knew.

The sun, with a burst of orange, settled behind the trees. Hector bent forward to kiss her sweet lips.

Far away, the gym doors closed behind the last registering freshman. Only that night, walking her back to campus, asking if they could meet-up in the morning, telling her that he knew, absolutely knew that he was in love, did Hector realize that he was totally screwed.



Meet Kenneth


With a sense of irony and a deep love for the foibles of people, Ken Weene writes novels, short stories, essays and poetry. He says, “As long as my pen keeps working, I know that I’m still alive.” For that reason, he is always delighted to share a new story or commentary on any blog that will have him. As co-host of It Matters Radio, he reaches out to the world with his humor and warmth. Ken hopes that you enjoy his books in print, e-format, and audible.

AssylumTimes to try the soul of man

I hope you enjoyed this short story. I sure did. Poor Hector!

And don’t forget—if you can dream it~~you can do it.


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