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Violence, lust and passion, all served with a dollop of British comedy, A Kiss For Judas is another beautifully illustrated, gripping, prose novel from bestselling Yaoi creators, Katsura and Yuramei. Based on the Big Deal series, this story follows the exploits of bisexual, sex addict, Judas and the men who grow to love and hate him.


Judas MacGregor, a small town boy with little going for him but his looks, receives a further kick in the teeth from fate when his mother, the woman who lumbered him with the handle from hell, dies. With no one in the world to guide or goad him, he throws himself into the pursuit of satisfaction—and straight into the clutches of petty crime.


A hopeless future is an apparent certainty, then a chance encounter in prison presents him with an opportunity to change his life forever…


Recruited as a dogsbody for the notoriously violent Campbell gang, the young delinquent has never had it so good. He forms an unlikely friendship with Fergus Campbell, the privileged son of the boss, and everything seems to be looking up…until a robbery goes disastrously wrong.

Was Judas's mother prophetic in her choice of name for him, after all?


Through the gritty world of organised crime, in the forgotten backwaters of Scotland, we chart Judas's progress from a poverty stricken nobody, to a fully-fledged hood and hitman.





 “You coming then?” Clearly uninterested in the stranger’s departure, Sandy headed for the stairs again.


Judas followed him, tugging at the tie he wore. These fucking things were so uncomfortable. Who would choose to wear one for any reason other than the big sham that was a funeral?

Once they were both inside the bedroom, Sandy closed the door. He faced Judas, the two of them standing close to foot of the bed. “Well?” He seemed to be studying Judas’s face closely, taking in his appearance with obvious scrutiny, but Judas’s lips appeared to attract his attention most. “Do I get my suit back?”


Being blessed in the looks department, Judas was used to being stared at, but certainly no guy had ever eyeballed his mouth for such a prolonged period of time. He’d the sudden urge to crouch and say, “Hey, I’m up here.” Like a girl had once said to him while he goggled at her breasts. The lack of eye contact, however, made him feel that anything he was about to say was irrelevant.


“I can’t go home in wet clothes.” He attempted his obvious response, not surprised when Sandy appeared to ignore it. Mere inches now separated them. Finally, Sandy’s stare did leave Judas’s mouth, only to fixate on his eyes instead.


“You’re a good looking guy, Judas. That’s your real name, isn’t it? I always thought people called you that for a joke.” He smiled and Judas immediately smelled the alcohol on his breath. So he hadn’t been unique in finding the booze the only decent thing about the commiseration spread.


“Jude.” Judas nodded. “Like the song, you know?” The lyrics of The Beatles classic had become something like a comfort to Judas. Someone out there actually gave a toss about this Jude, whoever he was, and the unloved loner embraced the chorus, stole the name, and made it all personal to him.


“Hey, Jude…” There was no tune to the way Sandy spoke, so thankfully, he wasn’t about to give a rendition. Instead, he reached out and gently stroked Judas’s cheek. “Can’t be easy for you, losing your ma like that, yeah? Being left alone?”


Aside from Sandy’s mother, no one had ever shown Judas any real care before, so he wasn’t used to the etiquette of it all. He shrugged in response to the touch and leaned his head back a fraction. “I’ll get by. We weren’t that close.”


Again, it seemed that Sandy hadn’t listened at all to the reply and had once more become fascinated by Judas’s mouth. He leaned a closer and whispered in such a way that Judas felt the words land on his own lips. “Hey, Jude…” Sandy slid the hand that had once caressed Judas’s cheek and tangled it through the waves of his hair instead. “Can I kiss you?”


“Kiss me?” Judas almost spluttered. “W-what would you want to do that for?”


There’d been no younger women in attendance at the do. Forty was about the youngest of the black-clad gathering of females and although the honour of being that age went to the reasonably good looking wife of the butcher, Judas hadn’t considered kissing her. But if Sandy was desperate for some lip action, there was bound to be some lonely woman about who’d let him console himself in her arms. Were funerals also places to grab a chance for some sex? He’d never thought about it before, but perhaps the faking of uncontrollable grief was a good prequel to a sly fuck.


If this was the case, is that what Sandy expected to gain? His strange behaviour before now seemed like an obvious come on. Why hadn’t Judas realised? Guys don’t normally compliment each other on how good-looking they are unless they’re queer. So Sandy was gay. How did that go down in such a small village?


These random revelations tumbled around in Judas’s head while he felt the soft stroking of Sandy’s fingers against his neck. Slowly, Sandy traced his index finger along Judas’s jaw. “Take a chance, Jude. You might like it.”


“I won’t.” Judas swallowed hard. He began to feel dizzy, probably due to taking in too much information at once. What if he threw up? He’d nothing against queers. He doubted that he’d ever met any, but what harm were they doing? Their choice to fuck each other left more snatch for the likes of him. And of course lesbians were hot as Hell. To heave down the front of Sandy’s suit in response to the advances would no doubt create the wrong impression. Carve him out as a homophobe, which he really wasn’t.


“Just one kiss.” Sandy’s words came out like a sigh. “If you don’t like it, we can stop.”

Up close, little details about Sandy’s physical appearance became more noticeable. His eyelashes were very full and long for a guy. The natural creases on his lips, no doubt left there from years of pouting, were really not that unappealing. Judas had already surmised that to find a male attractive made another male gay. He now felt drawn to the notion of this one kiss. Perhaps he could call it the ultimate act of defiance. He’d get off with a guy at his mother’s funeral. People already thought him despicable. Would that make him worse?


Someone had put music on downstairs. Nothing appropriate for the occasion. So to the surreal strains of Adam Faith crooning out "Daddy, What’ll Happen to Me," Sandy gently pressed their mouths together. He boldly slid his lips with such insistence that Judas felt he had little choice but to part his own. The flavour of beer tingled on his taste buds when Sandy’s tongue brushed briefly into his mouth, and rather than reject the advance, Judas felt the urge to embrace it. As well as the smell of alcohol, the slightly lavender scent Sandy wore, which was the same as the stuff that he’d put in the bath, seemed to cover him. As Sandy deepened the kiss, now holding Judas’s head tightly in both of his hands, Judas found himself reaching out and holding the guy’s waist. He closed his eyes.


Raw strength enhanced the skilful movements of Sandy’s tongue as he explored Judas’s mouth. When men kissed each other, was there no need for tenderness? Girls rarely appreciated being pounced on and manhandled. Well not the ones Judas had encountered. He was no expert in seduction, but even he started slowly when engaged in the pursuit of teenage kicks. Being just as horny as each other, did guys simply go for it? If they did, they had it fucking made. No chit chat. No need for inane smiling at each other.


We both know the score—wallop.

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