It’s Friday, it’s time for my weekly guest author slot, and today I’ll welcome author N.J. Lysk, who writes Alpha/Beta/Omega stories. A genre I know nothing at all about. She also writes about ice hockey, which I’m marginally more familiar with. Put both together and you get…? A story called Not Destiny. And N..J. Lysk explaining how it came all about. Oh, and there’s also a very sexy, very NSFW excerpt… 😉 And now – over to N.J. Lysk.
Once upon a time… there was a reader who was in love with hockey A/B/O fanfics.
I could not tell you when the idea of writing about hockey—a sport I only played on grass as a child—started to seem like a good idea, but the Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics were at the heart of the story from the beginning. As a queer person, I have always felt uncomfortable with the strict divisions between female and male and the more I learned about the world, the more that discomfort grew. It’s why I fell in love with M/M fiction in the first place, really.
A/B/O is a system where the differences we are all told are biological actually are most definitely biological—like wolves, omegas go into heat and alphas feel a desperate urge to mate with them. This can sound crazy, or crazy hot—or if you’re like me, both ;p
Thus the universe of “Rules to Break” was born. I started with “Cracking Ice”, about an omega and an alpha, the traditional pair, who were both a lot more into hockey than romance.
There was no sex in the world as good as the feeling of your puck hitting the back of the net. “Cracking Ice”, page 1, line 1.
But there is rather a lot of sex. And rather a lot about what happens when the person you want is not good for you, or more exactly, when getting to have them would mean giving up everything you want to be outside the bedroom.
In the process of writing “Cracking Ice”, I discovered what we all know, deep down, no one person can be your whole universe—it takes a village, or a team. And in their case, it takes Thomas, their linemate and right-winger, a beta who mostly forgets Keenan is an alpha and Carry is an omega.
And Thomas has problems of his own… or an alpha of his own to be more precise. And once Uriel showed up, I was hooked and I ended up finishing “Not Destiny” in record time and turning it into book 1 of the series (“Cracking Ice” is coming soon, promise!).
So why the drama? Thomas doesn’t know his new one-night-stand-turned-more is an alpha. He has also spent his whole life being told by his very traditional parents that alphas belong with omegas and that any beta getting in the way is the equivalent to a home-wrecker who will eventually be abandoned once the alpha meets their true mate.
Uriel does not mean to lie, but there’s no need to tell a one-night-stand, is there? And once it turns into more he discovers being treated like a beta—no preconceptions about what he wants, in bed or outside it—is exactly what he’s always wanted from a partner.
“Not Destiny” is their story. A beta, an alpha and their decision to defy destiny itself. It includes kinky sex, legal drama, explosive secrets and loving siblings and friends.
Length: 278 pages
Genre: mm A/B/O & hockey romance
Buy at: amazon
An alpha who won’t dominate
A beta who won’t surrender
A passion that…
breaks all the rules.
Thomas knows that as a beta he cannot expect to recognize his soulmate. He’s no monk, but he’s too busy with his hockey career and helping make his sisters’ lives with his overbearing parents a little easier.
Uriel is an alpha but he knows he cannot bear the responsibility of bonding an omega. He has his work as a lawyer and also volunteers at an orphanage trying to help the children there any way he can. He’s dated, but he is not willing to enter the kind of relationship an omega expects and betas never believe he will stay.
Except that betas cannot tell if someone is an alpha… And Uriel has no reason to mention it to a one-night-stand. But the fire between them might not be fated, but it’s undeniable, and neither can stop at just once.
Are they brave enough to defy the world’s expectations and strong enough to overcome the limitations of their own biology?
“Not Destiny” is a standalone forbidden A/B/O romance with a side of hockey and courtrooms and a sprinkle of social justice.
Excerpt from Not Destiny by N.J. Lysk
“Fuck, lemme—” Uri demanded suddenly pulling away. Thomas barely had time to react before Uri was going down. To his knees.
“Wh—” he started to ask, but Uri was already unhooking the button of his jeans and not only was the question moot, so were any possible objections. He thanked the gods he’d turned on the lights to see this: Uri’s dark eyes looking up at him from under thick lashes were a sight he wouldn’t have minded photographing and placing right on his bedroom wall.
“Let me,” Uri asked, voice rough but body gone still. Absolutely immobile, like he’d simply commanded himself to stop.
Thomas offered a shaky nod, feeling himself leak steadily into his shorts. Uri’s hands had lost their urgency, acquiring a steady, almost unnerving precision. He lowered the zip, then cupped Thomas’s engorged cock through his underwear with tenderness that had an edge of teasing.
He inhaled sharply, struggling to stay still, and Uri leaned closer and pressed a kiss to the head through the thin cloth, so wet it was almost transparent. Thomas shivered hard and spread his feet to keep his balance. “Mmm… Yeah, like that,” Uri murmured, breathing it out right on the sensitive skin.
“Fuck,” he said, not exactly in response.
“Not quite,” Uri said, pulling the cloth down and letting Thomas’s dick spring free. He at least had the consideration of taking hold of him by the hips to keep him from falling on his arse.
“Sorry,” Uri said at once, and kissed him again in apology.
As apologies went, it was a hard one to turn down. Uri made it harder by licking up his shaft, slowly and visibly enjoying the taste of it. Thomas only noticed he’d swayed when the hands keeping him upright tightened painfully on his sides. He cleared his throat just as Uri reached the head and twirled his tongue around it, swallowing precome even as he glanced up.
Thomas just stared at him, brain not quite able to process the sight of his reddened lips stained with a pearly drop he’d missed. “Um, wall,” he managed to get out. It was meant to be a question, which Uri smirked about once he understood.
He shot to his feet to drag Thomas to the nearest vertical surface—a kitchen cabinet, not a wall—and then went back down, taking Thomas’s underwear and trousers with him.
Thomas fumbled for the cabinet behind him, desperate for something to hold onto. He clutched at the handle on his right, bracing his elbow against the cold material of the cabinet door. He still didn’t feel all that steady when Uri tilted his head right and opened his mouth, sucking the head back into his hot, wet mouth.
Thomas whimpered faintly—Uri was still holding onto his hip with one hand, but the other was caressing down his thigh, and just then it got between his legs and rolled his left ball between his fingers, gentle but firm. He exhaled, heart hammering in his throat as Uri rubbed his tongue against the underside of his cock and trailed a long finger behind his sack with frankly criminal coordination. How did he…?
He glanced down between his legs, but the image of Uri’s dark curly head bent over his groin didn’t help much, and he lost control for a moment, thrusting into the warm heat of his lover’s mouth before he could stop himself. “Sorry,” he breathed out, braced for an interruption he was almost too turned on to bear.
But Uri didn’t stop, instead he sucked harder, leaving Thomas’s perineum alone and clutching at his arse cheek to shove him forward into his mouth. He grunted, torn between blowjob protocol and what his partner was demanding. Then Uri pulled almost all the way out and slammed his mouth back onto his cock and he whited out. He must have, because the next thing he knew was that he was deep enough to hit the back of Uri’s throat. He shoved in again and was sucked right in with a recklessness he’d never experienced in a partner—male or female—outside of fucking. Uri moaned around him, the vibrations of his vocal cords like electricity running up Thomas’s cock and straight to his balls, and he was coming—sudden, intense and endless.
It did end, or at least his brain managed to start keeping track of time again, and he discovered Uri had swallowed the first load and had kept sucking, as if eager for more.
He closed his eyes, too overwhelmed by his firing nerves to watch.
This wasn’t cock-sucking, this was worship.
He didn’t think he could live up to it.
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About N.J. Lysk
N.J. Lysk—compulsive reader of all things queer, allergic to silver, and meat eater extraordinaire—decided to write so the werewolves wouldn’t eat her brain (metaphorically, they aren’t zombies!)
With a genuine allergy to silver, a preference for werewolves was always a given, but it wasn’t until the wonderful world of alphas and omegas that inspiration struck.
N.J. likes British English, Earl grey tea, werewolves, polyamory, hockey, social commentary, and power dynamics (ok, and a lot of sex! :p). She can’t stand misused homophones, predictable plots, gender binaries and stereotypes. Also, the Oxford comma.
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