A Gay BDSM Sea Adventure Romance
Action Adventure, BDSM, Gay Romance
To Be Published: May 30, 2025
North, a rural water farmer, has come to the big citta to be trained in the
art of deep-water treasure diving. A man can make enough in a season to take
care of his family for years -- except as a novice and a country boy, North
can't find anyone willing to teach him the job.
That is, until he finds a mentor in the wild, sexually charismatic
"Storm." Storm promises to teach North everything he knows, from
navigating the dangers of the hunt to submission in bed -- but only if North
is willing to give himself over completely.
Praise for North Storm
"Will Okati has once again written a book that will capture you
attention from the first page, with the rich world in which this story
unfolds and with the lava hot sensuality that the characters express. The
love that these two share will leave you flushed and reaching for something
to cool down!"
--Sabella, Joyfully Reviewed
Excerpt
Copyright ©2025 Will Okati
For someone who had been raised on the sea, North was beginning to hate the
sight of it. Blue waters, green, aqua, all of them stretching as far as his
eyes could see. He'd been rowing for two weeks now, the winds too calm for
his small sail to pick up much of a breeze to help propel him forward.
Lucky for him, then, that he'd almost arrived at his destination.
Just ahead, North could see the tall, stone turrets and walkways of the
Citta del'Acqua, the massive capital of his world. There were other boats
not too far away, fishermen dangling rods over their sides and glancing up
in interest at North, scruffy from his fortnight's travel and pale with
exhaustion.
"Ho!" one of them shouted, his voice carrying across the water.
"Where are you bound, boy?"
"I'm no boy!" North fired back automatically. True, he looked
younger than his years, but he'd passed boyhood five years back and was
fully an adult. He hated it when people thought him younger than he
was.
"Oh, oh, a temper he has, a fine temper!" The fisherman and his
cronies laughed. Still others lifted their heads to watch. "Well,
firebrand, where are you going? Come to see the sights of the
citta?"
North sailed in a little closer, careful not to lose control of his small
craft and bump into one of the fishing boats. "I'm looking for the
master clamsmen," he said, once he didn't have to shout. "The
divers. Can you tell me where to find them?"
The fishermen laughed. "A boy from the country, come to be a
diver?" One of them hooted. "Boy, have you ever been deeper than
eight feet below the surface of the water?"
North stiffened. "I'm not a boy. And yes, I have been further down.
Fifteen feet, last I counted."
"You'd have to go a distance more to hunt the clams," the
fisherman said, his weathered face crinkling in amusement. "What are
you really doing here, anyway? Run away from home, did you, boy?"
North's jaw tightened. "Just tell me where I can find the
divers," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll be on my way,
then."
"Why, when this is so much more fun?" The fisherman gestured
toward his boat. "Come on, we've a spare rod and reel. You could help
us out with the day's work, and we'd split the catch evenly. Give you a
little money to help you through your first night here. Plenty of wine,
song, and women, eh?" He winked and splashed his oar into the water, to
the great amusement of his mates.
North shook his head. "I prefer men. And I'd rather not stay and
fish." His back was still bristling from their calling him boy.
"Do you know where the divers are or not?"
"Well!" The fisherman drew himself upright, as if taking offense
at North's rejection of his offer. "There's no need to get all
hoity-toity with me, young man. Of course I know where the divers are, but
why should I tell you? You haven't earned the right to the knowledge
yet."
North sighed. If this was the way they operated in these parts, he'd just
as soon go home. But he couldn't, could he? He'd come to the citta for two
reasons: one, to learn how to dive for the giant clams that had bizarrely
migrated to his village, and two, to learn how to be a Man Hand, one of
those who taught others how to give sexual pleasure. And how could he teach
if he didn't know himself? "Fine," he said, taking out his own rod
and reel. "If I catch a fish for you, will you be happy then? Will you
tell me where to find what I'm looking for?"
The fishermen nudged each other, grinning. "A big fish," their
leader clarified. "Larger than my hand, and thicker than my arm. None
of this penny-ante stuff for us, thank you. Then we'll send you on your
way."
"Good," North said, as he reached into his nearly empty bait
bucket and pulled out a scrap of dead fish innards from the last meal he'd
caught. "Storm is waiting for me. Or at least his letter said he was
supposed to be."
The fisherman's jaw dropped. "S-Storm?" he asked after a moment,
voice wobbling. "You're supposed to report to Storm?"
"Why?" North cast his line. "Is there more than one?"
He grinned wickedly at the fisherman, who looked completely taken aback,
mouth moving in a useless motion up and down. "No worries. I'll be sure
to tell him what good care you took of me." He laughed to himself,
softly, as the fisherman began to curse underneath his breath. No, indeed.
He was no callow boy to be played with.
About the Author
Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray
cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for
winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a
lifelong love of storytelling. Will's definitely one of the quiet ones you
have to watch out for, though he -- not she anymore -- is a lot less quiet
these days.
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@changelingpress
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