Since I didn’t have any more manuscripts ready that ran to 79 pages I’ll can give you two snippets. Both are very rough and nothing more than partially written paragraphs in a vague layout.
The first is 19 lines from the 7th paragraph of something currently referred to as ‘cafe french’.
Opening his mouth to speak Adam realised that his mouth was inexplicably dry. He flicked his tongue out, wetting the centre of both upper and lower lips in one swift movement. Luckily, the gorgeous creature in front of him was still concentrating intently on the board above his head and didn’t notice the aborted attempt at speech, which Adam suspected had left him gaping like an idiot.
Before he could make any further foray into communication, the swarthy man shifted his focus to Adam. Pale brown eyes, the colour of the hazelnut syrup in the bottle behind the counter, regarded Adam warily, the expression heightened by the frown which still carved deep furrows above the thin straight nose.
“Bonjour.” The man’s voice was deeper than Adam had expected, rich and velvety.
With just one word it seemed to seep into Adam’s chest, spreading out and dripping down his spine until it pooled low and warm in his groin. Damn, he needed to get laid, if that was the response one word from a swarthy stranger could instigate.
It didn’t even register that the one word hadn’t even been English or that, without thinking, Adam answered in kind.
The furrows in the stranger’s brow smoothed and he smiled; a brilliant flash of white teeth in full lips. A string of words emanated from the Frenchman’s lips, so fast that Adam caught nothing but the sil vous plait at the end.
The second is 9 lines from the 7th paragraph of something tentatively titled ‘RH Pillock’.
Spread-eagled on the bed, in a manner most unbecoming a man of his station, Toby wore a towel, wrapped loosely around his waist, and nothing more. Moisture still clung to his skin and droplets of water shimmered in the soft burr of hair that ran between his nipples, the remainder of his chest and abdomen as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Unless he allowed his gaze to dip lower where the pale brown hair started again in earnest just below his belly button, the soft sweep of an inverted V spreading ever wider. Although, on pain of death, Jacob would swear he had never ever looked with any degree of interest.
He should really reprimand Toby for lying on the bed whilst still wet from his bath.