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Book Title: Skater Boy: Hot Off the Ice #4
 
Author: A. E. Wasp
 
Publisher: Self-Published
 
Cover Artist: Ana J. Phoenix
 
Genre/s: Gay Sports Romance
 
Length: 75,750 words/303 pages
 
Skater Boy is a standalone story in the Hot Off the Ice series.
 


Blurb

 
In a world that measures success in dollars, how do you put a price on happiness?

Love, marriage, and a baby carriage. It’s all Alex Staunton has ever wanted. Well, that and an Olympic medal for figure skating. The medal he got. The rest of it - not so much.

When his most recent poor decision comes to a door-slamming end, Alex moves into the house of his best friend, Thunder starting goalie, Sergei Pergov. But when tragedy strikes, giving Sergei custody of the twins he fathered confidentially, Alex’s problems take a backseat to the needs of two infants, and Alex vows to be the best fake-dad and house-husband he can be.

Sergei is dazzled by the way Alex makes managing all the craziness look as easy as doing a triple-axel. As their friendship grows even deeper, Sergei realizes he doesn’t want to imagine a life without Alex in it. Alex is the one who makes their house a home; his love makes them a family. How can Sergei make Alex understand he’s worth everything?

Skater Boy is a story about falling in love with your best friend. It contains discussions about baby poop, day drinking, girls’ night out, and the purchase of a mini-van.
 
 

Buy Links - Available in KU
 
 
 
 

Excerpt

It was funny how much one kiss could change everything. Well, kissing and whatever else he could get away with. Sergei loved finding ways around the rules or seeing how much he could get away with while still technically staying within bounds.

Alex had typed up a list of the rules and taped them to the inside of the door that held Sergei’s coffee mugs and tea cups. “This way I know we’ll see it at least once a day.”

“In case I forget?” Sergei pulled Alex’s hand toward him, tracing light patterns over his wrist and palm in the same way Alex had tortured him the other night.

“Bastard,” Alex said, yanking his hand away. He darted in for a quick kiss. “In case I forget.”
Then last night after dinner, he’d come up behind Alex in the kitchen while he was washing dishes, and keeping his hands above the waist and over the clothes, lifted up Alex’s gorgeous hair and kissed the back and sides of his neck until Alex begged him to touch him. “Just a little. Please? Just my stomach.”

“Rules say no hands under clothing,” Sergei said, voice heavy with regret. “You made rules.”

Without another word, Alex slid out from under Sergei. Grabbing a pen from the junk drawer, he stomped the few feet to the cabinet, opened the cabinet, and crossed off the word ‘clothing.’ He wrote ‘pants’ above it, handwriting sloppy.

Slamming the door, he marched back to Sergei. “Better?”

Sergei yanked Alex against him, face to face this time. He slid his hands up the back of Alex’s shirt. His skin was softer than he had ever imagined and so warm. “Much better,” he growled, then pushed Alex up against the counter. They kissed until Sergei’s lips were numb.



About the Author

After time spent raising children, earning several college degrees, and traveling the world with the U.S. State Department, she is returning to her first love - writing.

A dreamer and an idealist, Amy writes about people finding connection in a world that can seem lonely and magic in a world that can seem all too mundane. She invites readers into her characters’ lives and worlds when they are their most vulnerable, their most human, living with the same hopes and fears we all have. An avid traveler who has lived in big cities and small towns in four different continents, Amy has found that time and distance are no barriers to love. She invites her readers to reach out and share how her characters have touched their lives or how the found families they have gathered around them have shaped their worlds.

Born on Long Island, NY, Amy has lived in Los Angeles, London, and Bangkok. She currently lives in a town suspiciously like Red Deer, Colorado.
 

 
Social Media Links
 
 
 
 
 



Giveaway 

 
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Switching Places 

Book eight in the Kiss of Leather series

Author: Morticia Knight

Punlisher: Pride Publishing

Pages: 210

 

Blurb

 

Tai wishes Master Lucas wasn’t such an adamant Top, but he’s also crushing on the sweetly submissive Elliot. Could he have it both ways?

 

Tai has hit a wall in life. From all outward appearances, he’s the guy who has everything—looks, personality and money. But the modeling gigs are drying up and he still hasn’t found that special someone to call his own. The part-time work at Kiss of Leather is quickly becoming full-time to prevent the drain on his dream-business savings.

 

Elliot fell for the stunning Tai from almost the moment he met him. If he wasn’t so self-conscious about the weight he’s recently put on, maybe he could work up the nerve to make a move. However, not only is he a virgin who’s never done a scene before working in a BDSM club, but he’s also sure that Tai has a thing for Master Lucas. There’s no way he could ever compete with the handsome silver fox.

 

When Master Lucas confesses to Tai that he doesn’t only see him as a hookup and offers him a contract, there are a ton of considerations. They both realize that serious compromises would have to be made for them to have a relationship. But what if they found a third, a sub who could bottom for Tai and also do TPE with Master Lucas? Once the idea takes hold, Tai knows just the perfect boy for them both. Even better? He’s right there at Kiss of Leather, and Tai can’t wait for Elliot to turn them all into a throuple.

 

 

Buy Links

 

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2ojvaEO

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2DkIDX2

Amazon DE: http://amzn.to/2mFvhJM

Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2DmiwhP

Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2mLi3fx

B&N: http://bit.ly/2rFKtg3

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2DDBf5c

Pride Publishing: http://bit.ly/2mKqQ18

 

Kiss Of Leather Series Link

 

 

Excerpt

 

Loud squeals followed by splashes drew Elliot and Tai’s attention to the backyard. It appeared that Tobey had tossed Hunter’s two nephews into the pool then jumped in after them. Elliot smiled, pleased that everything had been going so well. Alita and Tobey had taken to each other almost immediately, and the kids—other than the baby who was going through the ‘don’t touch me’ phase—had latched onto him as well.

 

Tai grabbed his arm, then reached past him to snatch up one of the meringues. “Pool time! Did you bring your suit?” He popped the sweet into his mouth.

 

Not if you paid me. “Damn. I totally forgot.”

 

“Oh no! Hey, I bet Tobey has some shorts you can borrow. You guys seem like you’re about the same size.”

 

I wish. “Actually, I was just getting ready to leave. I have so many errands I need to do before work tomorrow, so I should get a good night’s sleep.”

 

Tai gaped at him. “A good night’s sleep? You sound like my mawmaw.” He made a pouty lip. “Are you sure you can’t stay? We could have tickle fights.”

 

Tai winked and Elliot thought he might faint.

 

“I want to stay, I really do. But…” I don’t want you to see how flabby I’ve gotten. “Maybe we could, uh, another time…” He had no idea what he was trying to say other than to convey to Tai that he wasn’t trying to get away from him.

 

“Have a tickle fight? You’re on, sugar.” Tai grinned then gave him another kiss on the cheek. He was sure it was real that time.

 

Elliot chuckled shakily. “Sounds good. So, uh, I don’t want to keep you from all the fun. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

 

“Am I on shift tomorrow?” Tai wrinkled his brow.

 

Oops. He doesn’t need to know I check for the nights he works. “Oh, I guess I assumed…or something.”

Tai shrugged as he let out a sigh. “You’re probably right. I have an alarm on my phone that goes off two hours before a shift to remind me.” He rolled his eyes. “It drives Master Lucas crazy.”

 

A rock the size of a small planet felt as if it had landed in his stomach. “M-Master Lucas?”

 

“You remember him.” Tai pressed his lips together as he frowned in concentration. “The night of the auction. He’s the guy who bought me after Hunter stole Tobey out from under him.” Tai laughed. “At first I was pissed that I was second choice, but truthfully, I was the one who’d pushed him toward Tobey. We’d already been out a few times, but since I’m a switch and he’s strictly a Top—we weren’t sure how compatible we’d be in the long run.” Tai shook his head. “I’m not sure where we’re going with things. We’ve been hooking up a couple times a week ever since then, so I’m probably setting myself up for heartbreak, but oh well. Having a blast right now!”

 

“I see.” Zero spit remained in Elliot’s mouth. “I hope it all works out.” No I don’t. Elliot sighed, perhaps a bit too loudly. Don’t be an asshole. “Whatever makes you happy. That’s what I meant.”

 

“Bless your heart. But I’m more interested in stealing some more of these meringues on my way to change.”

 

Tai plucked one of each flavor and cradled them in his palm. Elliot received one more kiss and he hoped to all the gods in the universe his boner wasn’t visible. Since he’d left his over-sized T-shirt untucked, he thought he might be safe.

 

“Love you, see you tomorrow.”

 

Tai turned on his heel and scurried down the hall to the guest bath before Elliot had the chance to react. He bit his lip, thinking he should’ve asked Tai to say goodnight to Tobey and Hunter for him. Elliot glanced past the patio doors. If he went out there, Tobey would convince him to stay, and he couldn’t. He’d ended on a high note with Tai and taking his shirt off in front of everyone was out of the question.

Especially in front of the one guy I can’t stop thinking about.

 

 

 

 

 

Morticia Knight Bio & Social Media Links

 

Author Morticia Knight spends most of her nights writing about men loving men forever after. If there happens to be some friendly bondage or floggings involved, she doesn’t begrudge her characters whatever their filthy little hearts desire. Even though she’s been crafting her naughty tales for more years than she’d like to share—her adventures as a published author began in 2011. Since then, she’s been fortunate enough to have several books on bestseller lists along with titles receiving recognition in the Rainbow Book Awards, Divine Magazine and Love Romance Café.

 

Once upon a time she was the lead singer in an indie rock band that toured the West Coast and charted on U.S. college radio. She currently resides on the North Oregon coast and when she’s not fantasizing about hot men, she takes walks along the ocean and annoys the local Karaoke bar patrons.

 

 

Morticia’s Social links:

 

Website/blog: http://www.morticiaknight.com/

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2q2I2Do

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MorticiaKnight

Facebook Author page: https://www.facebook.com/authormorticiaknight/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authormorticiaknight/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/morticiaknight/

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/MorticiaKnight

 
 
 
 

 

 
Buy Links Audio: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Audible US | Audible UK
Length Ebook: 36,000 words
Length Audiobook: 3hrs 35mins
 
 
Blurb

 

Before Kieran....

Seattle, 2000 - Ethan Mallory is counting down the days until he moves back to Toronto. He loves Seattle, but it's time to go home.


So it's just his luck that, with a month to go, he meets Rhett Solomon. Their chemistry is off the charts, and in bed, Rhett is everything Ethan's been craving. He's witty and charming outside the bedroom too.


Ethan's not about to change his plans for a man he's just met, but what could this become if they had a little more time? Is this just a sizzling hot last hurrah before he returns to Canada? Or is leaving Rhett behind a huge mistake?

 
 
Excerpt

Seattle, Washington
Spring 2000

The clock between the top shelf rows of bourbon and vodka said it was five minutes after nine. My watch said four after, but quibbling over a minute in either direction was pointless. Jay was supposed to be here at seven-thirty. No call. No show.


Bottom line? Whichever timepiece had it right, I was getting stood up.


I threw back the last of my screwdriver and pushed the glass away. Well, that was a wasted Friday night. Question was, what to do with what was left of it? Get wasted? Or hit up one of the clubs and see if I could find someone to fill Jay’s role for the night?


That thought nearly made me groan. I was sick of the club scene. That was why I’d decided to try this whole meeting-guys-online thing in the first place. Everyone said the Internet was crawling with psychos, but so far, my luck had been decent. Connecting with someone, chatting a little, making sure we both knew what we wanted—no commitment beyond maybe a morning after cup of coffee—and then meeting up in a public place. If there was chemistry, decent hygiene, and no symptoms of being a serial killer, going to whoever’s place was closest and fucking each other into the mattress. Simple.


The online thing was a gamble, but it was so much more efficient and to the point than meeting someone in a club. Clubs were all right, but sometimes I wanted a sure thing. Something better than trying to exchange basic information like first names over loud music, hoping the other guy wasn’t thinking about soulmates and co-signed leases, and then having a frantic trial run in a men’s room or a vehicle before… well… going to whoever’s place was closest and fucking each other into the mattress.


I was sometimes tempted to tell a guy to just meet me at my apartment. Skip all this bullshit and forget pretending we’d met up for anything we could do in polite company. But meeting people on the web was risky, and I was much more comfortable feeling someone out in person before I took them back to my place. It also helped to make sure there was some actual chemistry, and that there was attraction. If we didn’t click enough to make it work, bowing out of a bar was much easier than kicking someone out of my house.


But it was all a moot point if the guy didn’t even bother to show up.


I muttered a few curses to myself. I really needed to get out of here and find something—or someone—else to do. Since the efficient and to the point technique hadn’t worked out tonight, though, there was always the fallback. Seattle’s Capitol Hill had a number of gay clubs. Tedious, but it wasn’t like I had anything else going on tonight.


It was still early, though—seven or eight after nine, depending on which clock I asked—so there was no point in hustling out of here. Most places didn’t really wake up until after ten.


So I flagged down the bartender and asked for an iced tea, then folded my arms on the bar and gazed down at the dining room. This was one of those bar and grill places with a semi-swanky bar up on a mezzanine overlooking a linen tablecloth restaurant. The food smelled amazing as always. I’d heard they made a hell of a steak here. Small wonder this was the go-to place for those on the dating scene. Most nights, the clientele was pretty evenly split between straight and gay couples, and tonight was no exception.


I had no interest in a relationship right now—especially not when I was packing up and leaving Seattle in a few weeks—but admittedly, I was a little envious of some of these people. I’d been more or less alone since I’d moved here two years ago. Most of the time, I was happy with that as long as I was getting laid on a regular basis. Sometimes, though, I missed being with someone like that. Talking over dinner, maybe sharing a bottle of wine, or kicking back in front of a movie and maybe falling asleep before the credits started rolling.


Someday. Maybe. For the rest of my time in Seattle, though, my goal was someone to keep my bed warm at night and be gone before noon. Unless the sex was really hot. Then he could stick around long enough for us to fuck a few more times. But definitely gone before noon the next day. Once a one night stand turned into two, things could get—


Oh, what have we here?


A face in the dining room caught my eye, and my drink almost slipped out of my hand. Whoa. I’d never seen him before, but I sure saw him now, and he was sure easy on the eyes. Built like he knew what a gym was. Neatly cut sandy blond hair. A dusting of five o’clock shadow along a sharp jaw line. Eyes that, even from across the restaurant, shrank my vocabulary to expletives and racy suggestions.


Apparently I was that horny tonight. Stood up, and now zeroing in on the most gorgeous face in the crowd. Except that was an exceptionally gorgeous face. The man I’d come here to meet didn’t hold a candle to this guy. Wow.


Pity he was here on what appeared to be a date with someone.


On the other hand, he looked like he was enjoying his date the way most people enjoyed standing in line at the DMV. He leaned against the back of his chair, as if to put as much distance between him and his date as he could. His expression alternated between neutral-edging-toward-boredom to outright uncomfortable.


The guy sitting across from him didn’t seem to notice or care. He gestured animatedly, sometimes with his highball, and whenever he laughed, his date squirmed a little more. At one point, the guy with his back to me shook his head, apparently laughing, and his date grimaced behind his own drink before downing most of the contents in one swallow.


Just before he lowered the glass, his eyes flicked up and met mine. I jerked my gaze away, cheeks burning as I realized I’d been staring. But then I glanced his way again. He stared right back. His forehead creased, and his face said nothing if not Help?


I raised my eyebrows. What do you want me to do?


He broke eye contact.


That was weird. I’d probably just imagined it, but I swore there’d been a momentary connection. A telepathic exchange, or at least an attempt at one. And the guy did seem pretty miserable. What exactly was a stranger going to do about it, though? I wasn’t even much of a wingman for my friends—what was I supposed to do here?


The guy said something to his date, gestured at his empty glass, and got up.


And dear God, he strode right across the dining room and up the stairs to the mezzanine where I was sitting. The bar was almost entirely deserted except for myself and a couple at the other end, so he could’ve stood anywhere, but he stopped right beside me. He flagged down the bartender and asked for a couple of beers. While he waited, he didn’t look at me.


“Waiting for someone?” he asked.


“No one who’s going to show up, no.”


This time he glanced my way, arching an eyebrow.


I shrugged. “Everyone gets stood up sometimes, right?”


He laughed dryly. Before he could say anything, though, the bartender handed him his two drinks.


The guy paid, but didn’t collect his drinks right away. Instead, he asked for a pen, then wrote something on the back of a coaster and slid it toward me. Without a word or even another glance, he took his drinks and headed back down to the dining room.


I turned over the coaster. On it, there was a phone number, and below that:


If you call this # in 2 min, I’ll buy you a drink @ After Hourz.


My heart skipped. I glanced his way again. He was back at his table, casually sipping his drink and listening to whatever his date had to say. His eyes flicked toward me, but his expression offered nothing.


I had almost no signal in the bar, so I paid my small tab and stepped outside. I was getting low on minutes, but curiosity trumped any concern I had about overage fees, so I entered the number and hit Send.


After two rings, he answered. “This is Rhett.”


“Well,” I chuckled. “Now I know your name.”


“Shit, are you serious?” He paused and exhaled. “And you couldn’t call—fine. Fine.”


I suppressed a laugh. God knew what story he was going to feed his date, but he deserved an Oscar for sounding legitimately annoyed and concerned.


He went on, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thanks.”


And then he hung up.


I stared at my phone for a moment. This definitely wasn’t how I’d expected my evening to play out, and where it went from here, I had no idea. But meeting up with a stranger who I’d just bailed out of a bad date seemed like a better direction than moping about my own failed date before searching for some anonymous sex at a club. It was a more interesting turn of events, that was for sure.


With no idea what to expect, I walked over to After Hourz, sat down at the bar, and waited.

 

 
 


February 26 - MM Midnight Cafe, Mirrigold: Mutterings & Musings, Sarandipity Book Reviews
February 27 - Booklove, Xtreme Delusions
February 28 - Southern Babes Book Blog, Velvetpanic, Making It Happen,

                    MM Good Book Reviews
March 2 -      Drops of Ink, Bayou Book Junkie

 



About The Author


L.A. Witt is an abnormal M/M romance writer who has finally been released from the purgatorial corn maze of Omaha, Nebraska, and now spends her time on the southwestern coast of Spain. In between wondering how she didn’t lose her mind in Omaha, she explores the country with her husband, several clairvoyant hamsters, and an ever-growing herd of rabid plot bunnies. She also has substantially more time on her hands these days, as she has recruited a small army of mercenaries to search South America for her nemesis, romance author Lauren Gallagher, but don’t tell Lauren. And definitely don’t tell Lori A. Witt or Ann Gallagher. Neither of those twits can keep their mouths shut…

 

 

Author's Links


Website: http://www.gallagherwitt.com

E-mail: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
Twitter: @GallagherWitt
Blog: http://gallagherwitt.blogspot.com

 
 

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RELEASE BLITZ

 
 
Book Title: Dead Camp 5 The End Game part 2
 
Author: Sean Kerr
 
Publisher: Extasy Books
 
Cover Artist: Angela Waters
 
Genre/s: Paranormal Romance
 
Length: 87364 words/266 pages
 
This is the last book in the Dead Camp series, five books in total
 
 
Blurb
 
All stories have a beginning and a middle, but it is how those stories end that we remember them.

Everything must come to an end, and as Eli contemplates the loss of Malachi in a London ripped apart by war, he knows that the final battle looms ever closer. Where is Ethan? Eli can feel him, their love for each other calling through time, but History conspires to keep them apart as Morbius uses him for the final game.


Desperate to find a way to end the war, Eli once again delves into the distant past in search of answers, but as Jack the Ripper taunts him from the pages of his dead lover’s diary, Eli is left despondent.

So many lies, so many terrible secrets bleeding across his memories, and all of it to keep him safe from the fingers of those who would destroy him. Love. All of it for love. So much lost, and all of it because of love.

As Eli says goodbye to London for the last time, he can only hope that love will be enough to end the madness. He has a plan to rescue Ethan. An audacious plan and it will take all of History by his side to see it through to the bitter end. It is time to break Ethan free from the bonds that enslave him, and as they hurtle towards Berlin, the final sacrifice begins.
 
 
 
 
 
Excerpt 
 
 
Suddenly he lay atop of me, baring down upon me in all his spectacular might. Sweat glistened upon his carved chest, rivulets of perspiration dripping off his pert nipples, and I found that I needed to drink him. I leaned forward, my tongue eager to feast, but he pushed me back sharply, filling my gaze with his magnificent head. He liked to wear his hair short these days, and it suited him, making the most of those huge green eyes and luscious lashes. Yet again, I found my gaze returning to the crevice of his chin, my cock rest, and I lashed out quickly, my tongue brushing over the velvet of his lips.

His knees pinned my arms in place at my side, and he sat up, his ass on my stomach, forcing the air up out of my lungs.

“That will fucking teach you to be cheeky,” he grinned.

“You swore!! You actually broke the rules and swore! I’m impressed.”

“We are about to break every rule in Heaven. I think a little curse word is the least of our problems, don’t you?”

His hands moved behind his back, and I felt my stiffening cock encased in the warmth of his palms. With slow, playful jerks, he quickly brought me to attention.

“Stop it!” I demanded, though my words lacked conviction.

“Stop what?”

“That!”

“This?” His hands moved faster, pumping me mercilessly until I squirmed beneath his considerable weight.

“We haven’t…got…time,” I gasped, but already I could feel my blood rising in my cheeks as my balls tightened in his grip.

“There is always time,” he growled, and I knew that it was too late for him to stop.

“But they’re coming…”

“Give me a second and so will you.”

My back arched beneath him as my load exploded up his back. The look of intense lust that blistered across his face empowered my orgasm, and it pumped from the tip of my cock, leaving me weak and wasted underneath him.

He brought his dripping fingers to his mouth and tasted me, his tongue licking the juice from his hand. Suddenly, his lips smashed into mine, and I felt his tongue explode into my mouth with a force that took my breath away. So intense was the kiss, so hard did he press his mouth into mine that it felt as though he wished to climb inside my body, to be inside me, a part of me, never to be separated. I pulled my hands out from under his knees, and I pulled his head into me, my fingers gripping his short hair as I drowned in him. Our tongues and our teeth ground into each other with such terrible, desperate urgency that I tasted blood upon my lips.
 
 
Buy Links
 
 
 
 
 
 
About the Author
 
Hi everyone, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Sean Kerr, and I am a 47-year-old gay man living in Cardiff, Wales with my husband of 28 years, Derek. We have two cats, Rita and Harry, and a host of tropical fish.

By day, I am an Interior designer, and I have had a shop, Home Zone, in Cardiff with my amazing business partner, Jayne for eleven and a half years. It has and continues to be a struggle. The recession hit a few years after we opened, and it has been challenging, to say the least. I consider myself to be lucky though because the shop pays me a wage, and I have been lucky enough to furnish my house with lovely things because of it, and I really do have some spectacular curtains lol.
I worked on building sites for years, and I used the money earned from that to put myself through college, specialist paint techniques etc. I trained in fine art, and then I went out and painted murals on client’s walls, and created Roman Bathrooms and fantasy hand painted bedrooms, all the rage back in the late eighties and nineties. I then became an Interior Designer for a large DIY chain, and that is where I met Jayne, my business partner, and the rest is history.

By night I am an Author, and I am very proud to be an author for Extasy Books. It took me some years to get to this point. I spent a very long time trying to get an agent because I thought it was the right thing to do, and after a heck of a lot of refusals, I nearly gave up. I came so close to hitting the delete button on Dead Camp 1 because I thought I did not stand a chance. At the very last moment, I decided to have a go at approaching a few publishers directly, and I sent the manuscript to six. Within two weeks, I had offers of publication from three! Let’s just say that there may have been tears lol. It was my chance, at last, to become a part of a world that I have always loved and admired from a distance, and it is one of the very best things that has ever happened to me.

I currently have four books under my belt in my Dead Camp series, as well as a short novella called Hush Little Baby. Dead Camp is my take on the Vampire genre, a Paranormal Romance series that is set against a backdrop of World War 2. However, the series uses key moments from History to tell one enormous saga, and I have loved every single moment of writing it. There will be five books in the Dead Camp series.

Hush is a pure horror story with more than a nod towards such classic programmes as The Twilight Zone and Tales of The Unexpected. The project happened just after I completed Dead Camp 3 and it is a story that I had to get out of my system. It’s definitely a different beast to my Vampire saga, and I hope it will make you go to bed with the lights on lol!

Dead Camp 5 is the last book in the series. I will feel very sad to leave it behind. Yet, at the same time, I am so proud of this saga which has been such an important part of my life for the last couple of years. I love writing, so very much. It has always been my dream, and the wonderful Extasy Books has made my dream come true, and it is a world that I am totally in love with. It is a world I hope to be a part of for a very long time to come.
 
 
 
Social Media Links
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Giveaway 
 
Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway to win one of Sean’s Dead Camp books. The winner may choose and Sean will gift the book from the publisher’s website.
 
 
RELEASE BLITZ SCHEDULE
 
 
 
 

 
 
 

 

 
Length: 43,199 words
Publisher: JMS Books
 
 
Blurb

Mike’s life is carefully compartmentalized. He’s deep in the closet to his family back in Kansas, but lives life honestly and openly in Austin. He’s unnerved when Wes, his old university crush, turns up at his door in answer to a roommate advertisement, but quickly sees the potential…benefits of the arrangement. Wes has never doubted nor denied his sexuality. With the support of his family he’s an out and proud LGBT activist.

On the scale balancing his self-esteem on one side, and the love of his family on the other, Mike has to decide which weighs more. Is Mike being fair to his parents by not giving them the chance to know his real self? When the delicate balance of his life is disrupted, he decides he’s tired of living a lie. Will Wes understand his concerns, or will their fledgling relationship crumble under the strain of Mike’s uncertainty?


 
 
 
Excerpt

I walked down the narrow aisle with a book jammed under my arm and holding my carry-on bag in front of me as I focused on the labels for the rows. Due to the effect my nerves were having on my stomach, I was beginning to regret the meal I’d eaten during the two-hour layover in Houston.

I found my aisle seat, but it was occupied. Nobody sat in the window seat. This leg of my trip used a smaller plane—Wichita was hardly a bustling hub—and there were only two seats on either side of the aisle.


My shoulders stiffened, waiting for the request. My guess was he had a traveling companion, but they’d booked their flight too late to get two seats together. I’d be willing to trade, but I hoped it would at least be to another aisle seat. I wasn’t claustrophobic at all, but I preferred the freedom an aisle seat provided.


I stopped in front of my row and looked at the man, my eyebrows raised questioningly. He stood and stepped into the aisle. I opened my mouth, but wasn’t entirely sure what to say. He hadn’t moved on. He stood as if waiting to sit back down after letting me in. “I’m sorry.” I held up my boarding pass. “Apparently, there’s some confusion. This is my seat, here.”


“You don’t mind, do you?”


My whole body tensed at his tone. As if he simply assumed I’d switch seats for no obvious reason beyond he preferred mine. Which frankly—dammit—was likely to happen because I was non-confrontational and this wasn’t worth the fight. But it pissed me off that he wasn’t asking, acting like it was a done deal, and he didn’t even try to offer justification. He also had the kind of smile you see on people trying to sell you a load of crap, be it a used car or a dubious political position.


“Is there a problem?” The inquiry came from behind—a male voice with a polite but firm tone.


“No problem,” the man in front of me said. The slick politician smile that had come so naturally to him now seemed strained, or rather, a mild sneer supplemented it. “We were just switching seats.”


“Sir, do you want to switch seats with this gentleman?” the flight attendant asked.


“Gentleman” was a generous term for the jerk, but points for diplomacy. I was sure the answer was obvious. I’d booked an aisle seat because that’s what I preferred. But I imagined that wasn’t the real question. I wasn’t sure if the flight attendant would rather, like me, avoid a confrontation, or if he’d like to see the pushy bastard put in his place. I knew which I’d rather see if I were a random spectator, but I wasn’t.


“I’m willing to switch.” But I refused to say I “wanted” to. It was a cop-out, but it would be miserable enough sitting next to the guy for the next couple hours without adding the possibility of his simmering hostility to the mix.


I hefted my carry-on bag into the overhead bin and sidled across to the window seat. I sat with my book in my lap and stared out the window at the tarmac, hoping it was clear I wasn’t interested in making small-talk and wished to be left alone.


The man parked himself back in the seat that should have been mine, and the flight attendant made his way toward the back of the plane.


“Jesus H. Christ. We had it under control,” the man muttered.


Apparently, being left in peace was too much to wish for. As my dad liked to say, you could wish in one hand and—


“Don’t know why that faggot felt he needed to stick his nose in our business.”


My grip on the book tightened and I spun without thinking toward the man. “Excuse me?” My tone oozed with aversion. I didn’t try to hide my feelings, so I’m sure the incredulous disgust I felt at his use of that word showed on my face as well.


Was it Wes’s influence or was I more likely to stick up for someone else than for myself? I wasn’t sure which, but I found I couldn’t let that go without expressing my repugnance at his shameless and vocal bigotry. I didn’t even know if he was simply using the word as a general derogatory insult or if he’d assumed the flight attendant was gay because of his career choice.


His lip curled as a soft snort puffed from between his thin lips. “I said, I don’t know why that fellow felt he needed to stick his nose in our business.”


That wasn’t what he’d said. I hadn’t imagined it. But I wasn’t going to pursue it. If nothing else, at least he knew his prejudice wasn’t always going to be accepted when aired in public. The more people realized it was bigotry that needed to be hidden in a closet, not the targets of it, the better the world would be. Yeah, Wes’s activism was influencing me.


I turned back to the window, closed my eyes, and counted to ten before reopening them. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with on the flight home to come out to my parents. My gut was churning enough without this added stress.


I’d been rather proud of how I’d managed to push aside my uncertainties the past two weeks and return to being my regular normal self. Right up until it had been time to head to the airport, anyway. I’d studied Wes’s pamphlets, and Greg had taken a set of them home, too, so he could be prepared on my behalf. That alone had taken a huge share of the weight off my shoulders.


Even so, now that the big moment was looming, it took a concerted effort to not be that jittery guy on the plane that everyone kept an eye on, waiting for them to crack and brandish a nail file that had slipped by security. Sure, there was a good chance everything would be fine. But there was still a possibility that my relationship with my parents would never be the same, and there was a huge sliding scale of degree for that potential unpleasantness.


Would my dad react similarly to the man sitting next to me? Under pressure, faced with his son admitting to being gay after he’d spent years talking about how wrong he felt that was, would he crack? He’d never used that word—“faggot.” He’d never used any kind of derogatory word.


Thinking back, I knew Greg was probably right about Dad’s apparent angle during his campaign to convince me it would be wrong to be gay. It all boiled down to the motivations behind his efforts. Was it as simple as he’d convinced himself I was making a choice, and wanted the best possible life for me, or did he think there was something intrinsically wrong—sordid, contemptible—with being gay?


Would I lose his respect? His love? Would holidays forevermore be tense? Helen was on my side, thank goodness, but what if Dad were to become convinced that I couldn’t be trusted around her two young children? I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable, but it couldn’t keep my mind from picturing him mining for all his arguments from only websites that were biased against LGBTQI+ people and not seeking the truth from a fair balance of sources. If that was the case, then there’d be a good chance he’d bought into a lot of the bullshit they were peddling. The fact he’d held off saying the more disparaging claims didn’t mean he hadn’t read them and thought there might be something to them.


The plane taxied down the runway and took off, and I turned my gaze to my book. I’d brought Andy Weir’s The Martian because I’d read it before and loved it, and I’d figured I might be distracted, so it’d be best not to try to follow a new story.


I opened the book, read the first three lines with the character thinking he was “pretty much fucked,” and closed it again. I didn’t believe in omens, but that summed up how I felt. It was just a question of degree.

 

 

 
About Addison

Addison Albright is a writer living in the middle of the USA. Her stories are gay (sometimes erotic) romance in contemporary settings. Her education includes a BS in Education with a major in mathematics and a minor in chemistry. Addison loves spending time with her family, reading, popcorn, boating, french fries, “open window weather,” cats, math, and anything chocolate. She loves to read pretty much anything and everything, anytime and anywhere.

 

 

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Book Title: Captive Hearts (Deviant Hearts #1)

 

Author: A E Ryecart

Publisher: A E Ryecart

Cover Artist: Meredith Russell

Genre/s: Contemporary MM romance

Length: 77,200 words

Blurb

 

“Too young, too blond, too skinny. Billy Grace was everything my head told me I didn’t want. Too bad my heart had other ideas.”

 

When Dashiell Slater uses his fists to stop a vicious assault, the last thing he expects is to be offered a job as reward for being a Good Samaritan. Out of work and short of cash, all he has to do is chauffeur Billy around. It’s easy money so saying yes should be a no-brainer. And if the offer’s not quite legal, so what? Dashiell’s smart and savvy, and knows how the world works. But there are strings attached, and Dashiell doesn’t want to get entangled. He’s ready to say no and walk away – until he sees the fear, despair and fathomless sadness in Billy’s jade-green eyes.

 

“He was everything I wanted, but couldn’t have. What was the use in dreaming when I was already bought and paid for, the property of another man?”

 

Billy’s life is a daily round of fear and abuse. One wrong word or one wrong look can mean a beating, or worse. Dashiell’s everything Billy’s heart craves – a man who’ll love and protect him, who’ll keep him safe and catch him when he falls. But Billy can’t have what he yearns for, because to give in to his heart means breaking a promise he’s vowed to keep at all costs. A soul-searing kiss, a whispered promise, and the chance of a future together is there for the taking. But life is never that simple and danger surrounds them at every turn. Imprisoned by devotion, duty and obligation, Billy’s heart is captive, but can falling for Dashiell finally set it free?

 

 

 

 

Buy Links - Available on KU

 

Universal Link 

Amazon US 

Amazon UK 

 

Goodreads

 

 

Excerpt

“It really does look better.” Dashiell smiled and touched the bruise with gentle fingers, and this time I didn’t flinch.

 

“You need to eat, and then get some more sleep because you look worn out,” he said as he pulled open one of the cupboards.

 

“No, I don’t want—”

 

“You need to eat. Just a bit of soup, that’s all I’m asking.”

 

He wasn’t pushing, and he’d done so much for me it felt kind of wrong to say no, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a little something.

 

A couple of minutes later a bowl was placed in front of me, at the table. I didn't have the strength to argue about not wanting it, he was trying to look after me, and all I had to do was let him.

 

“No arguments.” He had a mock stern don't-mess-with-me look on his face.

 

“As if I would.” I spooned up some of the soup, and though I had no idea how much of it I'd be able to eat I was determined to try, but my hand was shaking and most of it dribbled back into the bowl.

 

Without saying anything, Dashiell took the spoon from me, dipped it into the soup and held it to my lips. I was twenty-three, and being fed like a baby but I didn’t care or put up any resistance. What should have been awkward and embarrassing wasn’t. How could it have been, not when he’d already seen the shameful way Frankie treated me, and had dealt with the results? After that, being fed from his hand faded into nothing.

 

I nibbled at the soupy bread he tempted me with but it wasn’t long before I was shaking my head. I didn’t have much, but I felt better for it though I knew the real reason for that was having Dashiell next to me. I sighed and sagged back into my seat. Dashiell scraped his chair closer, and snaked an arm around my shoulders and without even thinking I settled into him and closed my eyes as he swept his fingers through my hair. The house was quiet. There was no Frankie barking orders and no zombies jumping to them. With the rhythmic back and forth of Dashiell's fingers, there was only that moment. What should have happened next was that he kissed me, but he didn't, and I was kind of glad of that. I'd have kissed him back, no question, but that wasn't what I needed. It was his warmth, and strength, and just knowing he was there.

 

“Come on,” he said, helping me up. “The best thing for you is sleep.”

 

I nodded, too tired for words, as I let him lead me out of the kitchen and upstairs.

 

 

 

About the Author

 

 

If you’ve a yearning for stories about complex men who make bad choices and wrong decisions, I’m your woman. Readers tell me they want to shout at my men, and shake some sense into them, before giving them a hug and a good talking to. And yes, I’m responsible for more than one repair bill to an ereader or smartphone that’s been thrown against a wall! But who said the road to a HEA was an easy one? Not me, that’s for sure. I make my men suffer, I put them through the wringer, I cause them to trip up… but in the end they come through despite all my best, and worst, efforts. So where will you find me putting words on the page? In my favourite café, that’s where. A walk across the park, or an early swim, before I settle down with a steaming hot coffee, ready to make my characters’ lives hell. My stories are set largley in London, the city I was born and raised in, but I now live somewhere quiter and greener just outside. I’ve no kids, or pets, but I do have a husband and as long as I keep him fed and watered he leaves me alone so I can spend time making life difficult for the men in my head rather than the man in my life.

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Social Links

 

Blog/Website

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Giveaway

 

 

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Cover Design: Garrett Leigh @ Black Jazz Design
 
Length: 58,000 words approx.
Housemates Series
Book #1 - Helping Hand
Book #2 - Like A Lover 
 
Blurb

Ryan isn't looking for a relationship with a guy--and Johnny isn't looking for a relationship at all.

Ryan's always been attracted to tall, leggy blondes--normally of the female variety. When Johnny catches his eye at a party, Ryan's interest is piqued even though he's never been with a guy before. The attraction is mutual, and the amazing night that follows opens Ryan's eyes to his bisexuality.

Experience has taught Johnny that love hurts. Staying single is safer, and there's no need for complicated relationships when hooking up is easy. When he moves in next door to Ryan, they're both interested in picking up where they left off, and it seems like an ideal arrangement: convenient, mutually satisfying, and with no strings attached.

Despite their best intentions to keep things casual, they develop an emotional connection alongside the physical one. Both begin to want more from the relationship but are afraid to admit it. If they're going to work things out, they need to start being honest--first with themselves, and then with each other.

Although this book is part of the Housemates series, it has new main characters, a satisfying happy ending, and can be read as a standalone.

 
 
Excerpt

Ryan was a few drinks down and feeling pretty buzzed when he first caught sight of blond hair through the crowd of partygoers.

He nearly hadn’t bothered coming out tonight. He had his third year project to write up, and should have been working on that, not partying with his next door neighbours. But the rest of Ryan’s housemates had talked him into it and he could do with letting off some steam, so he hadn’t put up much of a fight. One night couldn’t make too much difference, right?

The blonde arrived late and headed straight into the throng of dancers in the living room, bottle in hand. Tall and leggy in black skinny jeans with shit-kicking boots, Ryan’s interest was piqued immediately and a spike of arousal made his cock wake up. Tall and blonde was completely Ryan’s type, but when this blond slid a leather jacket off slender shoulders and tossed it on the back of the sofa, his washboard-flat chest made it clear he was a guy—so not Ryan’s type after all.

Despite the gut punch of disappointment at that revelation, Ryan found his interest persisted. The guy drew Ryan’s attention like a magnet lining up iron filings, and no matter how hard he tried, Ryan couldn’t stop watching him.

Spurred on by alcohol and reckless impulsivity, Ryan made a conscious decision not to question his attraction and just roll with it. He gradually edged his way into the group where the blond was dancing, and when he finally managed to make eye contact, the guy gave him a knowing smile that reflected Ryan’s interest right back at him. It curled around Ryan’s balls like the gentle, insistent squeeze of a hand.

Game on.

University was supposed to be all about new experiences, and Ryan only had a few months left before he graduated. He’d never hooked up with a guy before, and it had always been on his sexual bucket list, but not a high priority. As a young teen he’d sometimes admired androgynous male models on the pages of magazines that his mum used to buy and felt a confusing interest in them… but he’d never seen a guy in real life he’d wanted to fuck enough to actually do something about it.

Until tonight.


 


Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England. He comes from a family of writers, but always used to believe that the gene for fiction writing had passed him by. He spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content.

One day, Jay decided to try and write a short story—just to see if he could—and found it rather addictive. He hasn’t stopped writing since.

Jay writes contemporary romance about men who fall in love with other men. He has five books published by Dreamspinner Press, and also self-publishes under the imprint Jaybird Press. Many of his books are now available as audiobooks.

Jay is transgender and was formerly known as she/her.

www.jaynorthcote.com
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Title: Break Down
Series: Dublin Rugby #4
Author: Rebecca Norrine
Genre: M/M Sports Romance
Release Date: February 21, 2018
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
He knows his place on the pitch, but in life, it's a whole other game. All his life, Liam Donnelly looked and wondered. Could he? Would he? And then, finally, he did. But when he sampled a taste of that forbidden fruit, his whole world came crashing down, his position with Dublin Rugby right along with it. When the chance to ply his trade in Edinburgh comes along, Liam jumps at the offer, knowing it could be his best opportunity to start fresh and get back to the man he once was. But one look at Chef Lachlan MacLeod — his knowing, whisky-colored eyes, the abrasive scruff dotting his jaw, and the colorful ink lining his forearms —and Liam's wondering all over again. Can he? Will he? His heart says no, but his body says yes. He's conquered his own demons; can he help another man do the same? Out and proud Chef Lachlan MacLeod has no problem with who he is, except he has a history of hooking up with bi-curious straight men. He's vowed never to go down that path again, but when Liam Donnelly shows up in his restaurant, his eyes filled with heat and secret longing, Lachlan can't help himself. He knows the closeted rugby player is a terrible idea, but the man calls to him in a way no one ever has before. What started as a safe way for Liam to explore his sexuality quickly morphs into something much deeper, and now Lachlan wants more. But can his heart reconcile what his head already knows-that loving the gorgeous, broken athlete might actually mean letting him go?
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I absolutely adored Liam and Lachlan’s journey. It was sweet, smexy, frustrating and real and I savored each step forward and back that these men took in order to find their HEA. - Books-n-Wine
What do you get when you take a hot rugby star who is sexually confused and add in a sexy, chef who knows what he wants? An excellent read! - Que Sara Sera Book Blog
From start to finished i devoured this read and couldn't put it down till i had. I was drawn in and captivated with Liam and Lachlan's story. - Millsy Loves Books
Break Down was everything and more; all of Rebecca Norinne's words are so beautifully and tastefully written you will not be disappointed with this book. - Scandalous Book Blog
Wow this book! I am having a hard time putting into words how I feel. I absolutely loved this book. This is one of the best M/M romances I have read in a while. - Laid Back Book Bitches
Holy amazing story Batman! This is the first story by this author that I have read. I'm a automatic one clicker for her now. WOW. - The Heathers Blog
This M/M read is beautifully written. The characters being both sexy & rough, yet emotional & vulnerable. - Dani's Book Review Blog
 
 
Sign up for Rebecca’s newsletter for a chance to win the FULL SERIES >
 
 
 
 
 
No amount of logic or reason could prevent me from stepping between Liam’s thighs and fisting his blond hair between my fingers. No amount of caution or doubt would keep me from tugging his head back. And when he gasped—his mouth parting in surprise—no amount of uncertainty would keep me from crushing my lips to his, from my teeth nipping at the sensual curve of his full, bottom lip. Nothing, and no one, would keep me from devouring the mouth I’d dreamed about for weeks, from licking my way inside, from tangling my tongue with his until he weaved his fingers through my hair and moaned, the sound moving from his chest, through his mouth, and into mine.
 
 
 
 
 
USA TODAY bestselling Rebecca Norinne writes steamy contemporary romance featuring smart and sexy heroines and the men who adore them. When not writing, Rebecca is watching rugby, drinking craft beer, or traveling the globe in search of inspiration for her next story. Find out more at http://www.rebeccanorinne.com
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
HOSTED BY:
 
 
 
 
 

 

Series: Beautiful Shame

Book: Two

Author M.A. Innes

Pages 181

 

 

 

Links

 

Amazon UK

Amazon USA

Goodreads

 

 

Blurb

 

 

 

Randall isn’t looking for love.

 

When someone likes being watched and wicked things turn them on, nice guys avoid them like the plague. Randall has learned his lesson. He looks too vanilla and sweet for people to accept that what he wants is…embarrassing and dirty. 

 

 

Hudson isn’t looking for love.

 

He doesn’t have anything against it. He just doesn’t have time for it. Growing the family business and keeping everything under control is taking up more time than he’d ever anticipated. But sometimes, fate has other plans…like finding an innocent, submissive, naughty little thing and dropping him right in Hudson’s lap.

Hudson knows he and Randall are opposite sides of the same coin and would be perfect for each other. He just has to convince Randall that what he wants isn’t dirty or shameful, and that it’s okay to stand up for himself.

 

 

Review

 

*****

 

What do you do when you get turned on by being watched by stranger.  When they make you bend over and they ogle your butt.   Randall is that boy, He enjoys being watched and put into humiliating situations.  Part of the reason is to escape from conforming to what the world expects him to be.  

 

Randall does have some hang ups, with his behaviour, he things its bad and dirty, instead of hot and fun.   That is until…

 

Hudson comes along and sweeps Randall off his feet.  Hudson is just the Dom to give Randall everything he needs.   Hudson likes to push Randall’s barriers and enjoys watching him squirm in humiliating situations, but he also is very protective of Randall and shows him that what they both enjoy is not bad or dirty but healthy fun and hot.

 

We watch how Randall flourishes under his Dom’s authority and becomes Hudson’s Dirty Angel.

M A Innes has really wrote a master piece with this book.  The heat levels are high (Who does not like sweaty bodies lol).  The humiliation is embarrassingly hot, but also respectful, there is no demeaning of Randall as a person. The Author has done an excellent balancing of humiliation and respect, not an easy task in such a novel.

 

So if you want a sweat n' dirty, naughty but good read, Randel and Hudson are your guys.

 

 

Author M.A.  Innes

 

I write as Shaw Montgomery and M.A. Innes. Normally I write femdom romance and bdsm romance under the name Shaw Montgomery. Michael is my alter ego who loves kinkier things like age play and other fun fantasies. I love hearing from readers so please feel free to ask questions or make comments.

 

 

 
 
 
 
Buy Link
 
 
 
 
Blurb

Three full-length novels in a m/m romance series have been boxed up for one price! Sexy nurses with trust issues, overconfident doctors coping with reality checks, and hard-working students come together to find their hearts and health in small-town Kansas.

Heart Trouble (Book #1)


Fresh off his latest heartbreak, nurse Ben Griggs is wary when one of his patients shows an interest in him — especially when that patient showed up in the ER after a motorcycle accident. Ben isn’t the kind of guy who can hold the interest of an adrenaline junkie like Gage Evans for long. If he can’t find a way to trust Gage with his heart, they may be destined to have a fling that goes nowhere.


Bedside Manner (Book #2)


Dr. Paul Johnston can’t get a set of dark, somber eyes out of his head, and the timing couldn’t be worse. Zane Kavanaugh came through the ER, a victim of a hate-fueled assault, and Paul can’t forget him. But under review after a complaint, he also can’t afford to fall for a patient. Paul is afraid to start a relationship, and Zane can only handle so much more rejection. Paul may have to make a choice: His career or the first man to capture his heart.


Urgent Care (Book #3)


Dr. Trent Cavendish made a huge mistake when he walked away from the love of his life at age 18. When his best friend suddenly dies 12 years later, it rattles Trent into seeing how empty his life has become. He returns to his hometown, hoping to make amends to the man he left behind. Instead of the sweet but tame guy he remembers, Trent runs into a smoking-hot Xavier James dressed in bits of lace and silk at a gay nightclub. His plan to earn Xavier’s forgiveness immediately shifts to lust, and love’s not far behind.


Each of these books was previously published individually as part of the Hearts and Health series.

 

 

 
 
 
 

Excerpt from Book 1, Heart Trouble

The man had done a real number on himself. Angry scrapes covered his leg, and he was going to need sutures in two places. But everything looked clean and disinfected, so he reattached the bandage and slid the sheet up.


A smile tugged at his lips when, in the process, he glimpsed tight orange briefs under Gage’s hospital gown. Interesting underwear choice. This guy has a bit of flair.


“Is the leg your only damage?”


Gage chuckled, and Ben’s eyes shot up to his face. His lips smirked as he replied. “That’s debatable. What kind of damage are we talking: mental, emotional or physical?”


Ben laughed. “I only deal with the physical, honey.”


Gage’s smile widened, and Ben realized how that sounded. He hurried to get the conversation back on track. Flirting with patients was not ordinarily something he did, and he especially didn’t need to flirt with a biker. Despite what he’d said to Tripp, he was in no hurry to be another guy’s fuck buddy until he got bored.


“What I meant was, that jacket is looking abused. Do you have any other injuries?”


Even as he asked, Ben grabbed the chart to skim over the details once more. Not that he didn’t trust the patient, but he wanted to be sure he knew what had been detailed thus far.


“Jacket saved me,” Gage mumbled. “I might have a few bruises.”


Ben tsked. In addition to sutures, Gage was going to need a round of examinations to ensure there were no breaks or internal injuries to his body.


“Want me to take it off?”


Ben startled, glancing up. “What?”


“The jacket?” Gage said. “Do you need to see the rest of me?”


Ben bit down on his lip hard as images spilled through his mind. Even in a hospital gown covered by a leather jacket, Gage was a good looking man. His chest was firm and his shoulders broad. It was tempting to agree, just to look a little, after the dry spell Ben had experienced since Tripp dumped him.


That would be playing with fire, and he knew it.


Ben shook his head and replaced the chart.


“The doctor will make a more complete examination,” he said. “Let me go hunt down Dr. Johnston. I’ll scold him until he makes you his top priority.”


Ben smiled his polite nurse smile and turned for the door. He needed to get out of that room before he drooled all over his patient.

 
 
Author Bio


DJ Jamison worked in newsrooms for more than 10 years, which helped tremendously when she began her series centered on The Ashe Sentinel, a fictional small-town newspaper in Kansas. She lives in the Midwest with her husband, two sons and three glow-in-the-dark fish.


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Demons & Wolves Series - Available to borrow on KU
Book #1 - Broken In Silence - books2read.com/BrokenInSilence

 

Book #2 -Within These Depths - books2read.com/WithinTheseDepths
 
Cover Design: Jay Aheer @ Simply Defined Art
 
 
 
Broken In Silence 


Tannerian Wulfric is a leader—a strong alpha who bows to no-one, especially those who try to undermine his authority.


When an opportunity arises, he grabs it with both hands and lets nothing get in his way. Trouble is, his brother has been caught in the crossfire of glorious retribution, and Tanner is in need of assistance.


For many years, Alex Jonas has lived his life in peace. But when fate lands him in the hands of his ex-lover and alpha, he finds himself in the centre of a feud he never knew existed, and must immerse himself in ways he had never imagined. One chance encounter, one night, and everything comes crashing down around him. Alex must fight for his life while Tanner fights for one thing and one thing only—vengeance, which has never tasted sweeter.


Can Tanner avenge his family’s death without spilling more blood? Or will his inner demon tear apart everything he has worked for, and lose the man who owns his heart?



Within These Depths

Tanner is so close to his revenge that he can almost taste it. With an unusual brand of negotiation skills under his belt, he has everything he needs. Now all that stands between him and destroying Elijah Ravenhill is a dangerous mission into the depths of Hell. Accompanied by his guides, he will enter where loyalties and souls are tested, and few ever return.

Newly mated Alex just wants to keep his loved ones safe. In the sprawling grandeur of Wulfric Manor, he finally has his family under one roof, even if it may only be temporary, and his dreams of having something normal seem to be within reach. Yet what’s normal for the wolf is torture for the prey, and chaos descends on Alex with one mysterious phone call.


Can Alex have all he ever dreamed of without sacrificing his life? Will Tanner put an end to Elijah once and for all, or will his revenge go up in smoke within the fires of hell itself?


Warning: Within These Depths is the highly anticipated sequel to Broken in Silence: Demons and Wolves Series, and things are really heating up. This story is NOT a typical romance and it's not intended for those who seek a HEA. It cannot be read as a standalone.

 
 
 
 
 
 
Excerpt -
 
 
In his own unique way, Tanner tells Alex he loves him


“You,” Tanner seized Alex’s chin and lifted it upwards, “are mine. I won’t let you out of my sight again. A minute, a day, a decade—I want every second of them. Is that understood?”


“You promise?” Alex joked, though his heartbeat spiked with confusion at what Tanner was announcing. He loved him? The alpha had never told him that. He’d never even hinted towards him being anything more than an eyesore he’d taken in off the streets. Although Tanner wasn’t exactly serenading him, the meaning was there, all right––a faint glow between the cracks of darkness. And Tanner had claimed him.


“Promises are for the weak. You are mine, and I intend to keep it that way even if I must hunt you to the ends of the abyss.” His lips assaulted Alex’s, crashing against his mouth with wild abandon…

 

 

 
Author Bio


Katze Snow never learned when to shut up. Food and coffee are what encourage Katze to function in a semi-normal, sort of socially acceptable way. Doses of sarcasm and sass are what she lives for, and her wolf, Kiba, who is Katze's little furbaby. She's been writing since she was a child, but finally published her debut novel, Alpha's Bane, in Autumn 2016.


While Katze also writes MF, MM is where her heart truly lies. Her writing is dark, gritty, and takes satire to a whole new level. Come and join her! But be warned: Katze likes her men dark, twisted and all kinds of messed up, and she hopes you do too.


When Katze's not writing, she's working for a top secret, underground organisation, or taming wolves. (Check out her furbaby, Kiba!)


"Why ever would I want to go to heaven, when hell is so much more fun?" ~ Broken in Silence (Demons and Wolves #1)

 
 
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Series: Desires

Author E.M. Denning

Publisher: Paper Gold Publishing 
Cover: Designs by Dana 

 

 

Buy Link


http://myBook.to/desires2 

 

 

Blurb

 

 

Matt Simpson is notorious for his bad decisions. From his rocky teenage years to his tumultuous early twenties, he's made a lot of mistakes. His latest, greatest, and perhaps stupidest of them all was his recent pursuit of his boss, the unattainable Steve Paulson. Desperate to make the man notice him, and knowing Steve would never get involved with an employee, Matt quits his job.
Unfortunately, Steve still won’t touch him. To make matters worse, his new job falls through and his older brother won’t hire him. Matt can’t bear to ask Steve for help, and soon he finds himself out of money and out of options. When Steve finds him living in his car and demands that he go home with him, Matt obeys, but living with the man he's wanted for two years proves to be frustrating as well as explosively hot. As Matt begins to explore his submissive side under Steve's firm guidance, his insecurities haunt him. What does a homeless, jobless kid with a string of failures behind him have to offer, even if Steve did want him for more than a brief fling?
 
 

E.M. Denning is a writer from British Columbia. She loves her family and animals, and anything cute and fuzzy. She was born a hopeless romantic, and when she’s not writing romance, she’s probably reading it. She loves love.

 

You can find her on her website, Facebook or on her blog.

 
 

 

 
Universal Buy Link: books2read.com/TheWinningEdge
Cover Design: Dar Albert @ Wicked Smart Designs
 
 
Blurb

Can figure skating enemies find love off the ice?

After an explosive locker room confrontation with his Russian rival ends in the most intense sex of his life, American pairs skater Dev Avira is distracted to say the least. He’s worked for years to have a chance at Olympic gold, and he can’t let himself—or his partner—down. Playing cat and mouse with the steely and smoldering Mikhail Reznikov is the last thing he needs as he prepares for the biggest competition of his life, but they can’t keep their hands off each other as the Games approach.


Dev soon learns that beneath Mikhail’s arrogant and aloof exterior is Misha, a passionate man who warms Dev’s heart and scorches his bed. They’re both determined to win, but for Misha his freedom could be at stake if he and his partner take anything less than gold. Who will stand atop the podium? And can secret lovers from different worlds make a life together once the competition ends?


This gay sports romance from Keira Andrews features enemies to lovers, two alpha men, sequins, and of course a happy ending. Content previously published as novellas Cold War and Holding the Edge.

 

 

 
Excerpt
December: The Grand Prix Final
 
Dev reached for his partner’s hand, and he and Bailey glided onto the ice wearing matching bullshit smiles as a voice announced: “In second, and winners of the silver medal, representing the United States of America—Bailey Robinson and Dev Avira!”
Thunderous applause filled the arena, and flashbulbs popped as they took their bows and waved to the cheering Japanese crowd. Dev wished he could soak in their love and choke down the acid bitterness currently lodged somewhere around his sternum.
Smiles still firmly in place, he and Bailey hopped onto the carpet surrounding the podium where the gold medalists waited in all their sequined and red-feathered glory. Leave it to the Russians to make their Firebird costumes as literal as possible. Kisa Kostina, not a bleached-blonde hair out of place, beamed as she bent to air-kiss Bailey’s cheeks.
Dev’s jaw clenched as he shook Mikhail Reznikov’s hand. He hated himself for the skitter of electricity when their eyes and palms met. Mikhail’s lips curved briefly into an approximation of a smile. At thirty-one, with his short dark brown hair sweeping over his forehead, his steel-blue eyes, his broad shoulders and lean, tall body, and his truly spectacular ass, he was stupidly handsome.
 
Asshole.
 
Dev and Kisa exchanged air-kisses before he helped Bailey step onto the second tier of the podium. He took his place behind her and waved again to the audience while the third-place Canadians skated out to take their bows, followed by more air-kisses and handshakes. Although Dev and Bailey genuinely liked the Canadian team, this ritual was so painfully fake. They were all here to win, and there was only one satisfied team on the podium.
And satisfied the Russians certainly were. With his regal air, Mikhail was one of the most pompous, egotistical people Dev had ever met. He was the king of the pairs world, and he damn well knew it. Sharp-eyed Kisa was the ice queen, and together they were a perfect, humorless match. They kept to themselves off the ice, always civil but never friendly.
How Dev would love to see Mikhail Reznikov brought to his knees. He ignored the flare of desire in his belly at the other implications of that thought and refocused his attention on his resentment of Mikhail’s place on the podium.
 
The Grand Prix Final was the last international competition before they all returned home for their national championships in late December and into January. Olympic teams would be determined, and then on to the Games in Annecy in February. Since he was seven, Dev had dreamed of winning Olympic gold. He was so close he could taste it.
 
The officials presented flowers and medals, and Dev played his jovial part. Being on the podium here meant they were among the best of the best, yet the silver medal hung around his neck like an albatross. He knew he should be grateful for what he had, and proud of everything he and Bailey had accomplished. And he was. But second place wasn’t good enough.
 
He wanted to win.
 
As the all too familiar “Hymn of the Russian Federation” played, Dev watched the flags rise to the arena’s rafters. Just once, he wanted the Stars and Stripes to have the middle position. Sure, he and Bailey had won plenty of competitions. They had narrowly missed making the last Olympic team, and that disappointment had fueled them. They’d dominated American pairs skating ever since. Three-time national champions. Winners of multiple Grand Prix events—including Skate America, Skate Canada, NHK Trophy, and the Cup of China.
 
But they’d never beaten Kostina and Reznikov. Every time they faced the Russians, they came up short. They were the reigning world silver medalists, and even though they’d worked endlessly on their artistry and connection and edges and transitions—it was never enough.
 
It wasn’t as if the Russians weren’t good. Dev could admit they were amazing, particularly on the technical side. They were three-time world champions, and when they were on, they were unbeatable. But tonight Kisa had fallen on their throw Salchow and they’d lost unison on their side-by-side combination spins. Yet they still won by eight points. Eight! Sure, Bailey had put a hand down on their side-by-side triple toes, but it was a minor error. It felt like the judges had decided Kostina/Reznikov were the winners before any of the pairs even stepped on the ice.
 
The crowd cheered as the anthem ended, and all the skaters squeezed onto the top of the podium for photographs. At five-ten, Dev wasn’t the biggest of the male pairs skaters, but tiny Bailey only reached his shoulder. Mikhail stood a good three inches taller beside him, because of course he had to be better in absolutely everything. Dev grinned for the photographers and held up his silver medal as he fantasized about elbowing Mikhail off the back of the podium.
 
The torture continued as the teams posed for more photographs on the ice with their flags. Then it was time to circle the rink for a victory lap. Dev and Bailey stopped to hug a few fans, including Amaya and Reiko, two young women who attended almost every competition around the world. Dev had no idea how they afforded it, but he was always grateful to see them in the stands.
 
Reiko handed him a stuffed elephant. The elephant was the state animal of Kerala, the Southern Indian state where his parents had grown up before immigrating to the US, where Dev was born. He’d mentioned once in an interview that his good-luck charm was a tiny elephant pendant carved from jade that he wore during every competition on a silver chain, hidden beneath his costumes.
 
Ever since, fans had given him elephants in every imaginable form, from dolls to statues to goofy hats. He loved every single one, and his mother collected them in what she called the Elephant Room back home in Belmont in the Boston suburbs.
 
He kissed Reiko’s cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. Hope we’ll see you in Annecy?”
She bounced. “Oh yes! We would not miss this. And we love new costumes!”
“Glad to hear it!” Dev grinned.
 
After NHK they’d scrapped their initial costumes, which didn’t quite capture the darkly romantic tone of their Jane Eyre long program—officially called the free skate—set to the score from the 2011 film. Now Dev wore navy trousers and a button-down silk shirt with a simple white cravat, while Bailey’s navy dress with delicate white embroidery at her wrists and around her neck perfectly set off her auburn hair, which she wore twisted into a braid wrapped around a knot. Dev had grown his thick black hair a little on top, where it curled in what he liked to think was a rakish fashion.
 
Reiko’s smile gave way to a frown. “The results not correct. You and Bailey are true winners today. Everyone thinks this.”
 
Amaya nodded vigorously.
 
“Thanks, guys. We love you!” Bailey gave them another hug before they skated on.
After yet more photos, they finally escaped backstage. Their coach, Louise Webber, walked them to the dressing rooms. Louise had been a pairs skater herself in her youth, although she’d never gone past the national level. Now in her forties, she was still in amazing shape, which she attributed to her “Asian genes.” There wasn’t a streak of gray in her short black hair, and while she often said Bailey and Dev would give her wrinkles when they didn’t follow instructions to her satisfaction, none were in evidence.
 
Dev just wanted to get back to the hotel, but there was still the mandatory press conference to contend with. “Is this over yet?”
 
“You did your job out there. The rest of it is out of your hands. I’m proud of you.” Louise gave them both a squeeze. “Don’t let it get to you.”
 
“I’m not. It’s fine. I’m fine,” Dev insisted.
 
Bailey snorted. “Uh-huh.” She patted his hip before disappearing into the women’s dressing room. “See you in a few.”
 
Of the six teams that qualified to compete at the Grand Prix Final, the three who didn’t make it to the podium were long gone. In the men’s dressing room, the Canadian, Roger Jackman, was already zipping up his hoodie and stuffing his feet into his sneakers.
“Hey, man. I gotta call my wife back home. The baby’s due any minute now and I want to catch her tonight before it’s too late. Or early. I’m so fucked-up with this time change. Don’t rush getting changed, okay? I need a few extra minutes. See you in the press room.”
“Sure, no problem.” Dev held out his fist. “Great skate tonight.”
 
Roger bumped him back. “You too.” He shrugged. “What are you gonna do, right?”
As Mikhail strode in, Roger hurried out, tapping his cell phone. Dev sat on a bench and unlaced his skates. From the corner of his eye, he watched Mikhail peel off his black bodysuit festooned with shimmers of burnt orange and red. Several feathers floated to the tile floor. Underneath he wore a black tank top and boxer briefs that clung to his narrow hips and muscular thighs.
 
Swallowing hard, Dev quickly stripped off his costume and transferred it to a garment bag. Wearing dark boxer briefs as well, he reached for his track pants, but found his attention drawn back to Mikhail. The arena’s locker room had been gussied up with several wardrobe racks and a bank of makeup tables with mirrors and chairs. Still in his underwear, Mikhail went to one of the mirrors and leaned close.
 
The ego on this guy. It wasn’t bad enough that Mikhail had to always win—did he have to parade around the dressing room half-naked? Still, Dev had to swallow hard as traitorous desire seared in him. Mikhail steadily met his gaze in the mirror, and Dev jerked his head away, cheeks hot. Stupid! The last thing he needed was to get caught lusting after this asshole.
 
“Don’t worry, your guyliner isn’t smudged,” he snarked before glancing over.
In the mirror, Mikhail’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing and pulled a lash from his eye.
For some reason this refusal to engage lit a fuse to the anger simmering in Dev’s gut. “You know, you could lighten up once in a while. We get it, you’re an artiste. So tortured and…Russian. With your flailing arms and your nines for Performance and Execution even though you just go through the motions. You always get nines, and I bet you did tonight, despite Kisa cleaning the ice with her ass on that throw. You guys even fall artistically according to the judges.”
 
Mikhail straightened and faced Dev. His gaze raked down Dev’s body and back up. Nostrils flaring, he asked, “You have a problem?” His accent was fairly thick, but his earlier years training in Connecticut gave him a strong command of English. “Talk to the judges. We don’t control them.”
 
Dev barked out a laugh and took a step closer. “We both know your federation has the judges in its pocket. Skating has always been about politics, and no matter what scoring system they bring in—it always will be.” He shook his head. “Why am I even getting into this?” he muttered, more to himself than Mikhail. He headed toward the bathroom. “Forget it.”
 
Mikhail stood unmoving, and maybe Dev meant to get a little too close and knock his shoulder. But he definitely didn’t intend to end up slammed into a locker with Mikhail gripping his arms, his eyes blazing and face twisted. Dev’s skin burned where Mikhail touched him.
 
“You think it’s so easy for us? You know nothing. Nothing!”
 
Dev shoved against Mikhail’s chest, but he didn’t budge. Fingers curling in Mikhail’s tank top, Dev struggled to focus when he wanted so much to rip the cotton away and feel Mikhail’s pale skin. “Cry me a river! You win everything just by showing up. You could drag Kisa around by her hair for four and a half minutes and you’d be golden.”
Poshel na hui,” Mikhail spat.
 
Dev had been around Russians long enough to translate. He gritted his teeth. “Fuck you too.”
 
Their harsh breathing filled the air, fingers digging into each other’s skin, bodies so close and—
They were kissing, mouths open and teeth clashing, tongues battling as they rutted together. The metal of the locker was cold against Dev’s back, but everything else was fire—desire pumping through his veins, and the unstoppable urge to get closer, closer, closer. He moaned raggedly as his brain tried to connect with his body.
 
What am I doing? Stop!
His body ignored him, and he spread his legs as Mikhail jammed his thigh between them. They were both already hard in their underwear, and Mikhail groaned as Dev grabbed his ass and ground their hips together. Dev hated him so much, but he couldn’t stop touching. His hands roamed over the hard angles of Mikhail’s body, and he panted into wet, messy kisses. Mikhail clutched Dev’s hips and thrust their cocks together.
 
Anyone could walk in. Stop! I hate him! Wrong, wrong, wrong!
The scattered snippets of thought only made his pulse roar louder, and his balls tightened already, his body desperate for the release. They jerked together, and Dev could only give in to the madness that had taken over.
 
When Dev’s orgasm ripped through him, his shout was muffled by Mikhail’s palm slapping over his mouth. Mikhail hunched over as he rubbed against Dev in a frenzy, his quiet little gasps warm and wet against Dev’s neck. He came silently, shuddering with the pulses of his release. Dev’s body hummed with aftershocks, and he closed his eyes, breathing hard through his nose since Mikhail’s hand still covered his mouth.
 
Then the heat vanished, and Dev opened his eyes. Mikhail backed up across the dressing room, shaking his head slowly, eyes wide. Dev was frozen in place against the locker, his briefs sticky, and his arms hanging at his sides. They stared at each other as the seconds ticked by.
 
“Gentlemen?” a man’s voice called, accompanied by a sharp knock on the door. “We’re ready for you in the media room.”
 
They leaped into action, yanking on clean underwear, street clothes, and shoes in a blur of movement, not meeting each other’s eyes. Dev made it out first, and he smiled and made his apologies to the officials, following them to the press room. Sweaty and sticky and in desperate need of a shower, he tugged on his fleece and felt exposed even though it wasn’t as if there were wet spots on his track pants.
 
In the press room, the other skaters sat behind a long table on a raised dais. Kisa waited in the middle with the Canadians on her left and Bailey her right, everyone seated in their medal positions. On the rows of chairs in front of the table, the media, coaches, and various event and federation officials waited. Dev avoided looking any of them in the eye as he took his seat.
 
He couldn’t avoid his partner, and he smiled in what he hoped was a low-key, completely normal way. His mouth felt raw. Jesus, do I have beard burn? Bailey’s brows knitted together, and she reached up and straightened his hair. Shit. His hair.
 
Everyone knows! It’s flashing all over me in neon letters. Neon and all caps!
Breathing deeply, he struggled to unscrew the cap from the bottle of water placed on the table in front of him. It took two tries, but he got it, and gulped. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it.
“Everything okay?” Bailey murmured.
He nodded.
 
Under the table, she squeezed his thigh. “We’re almost there. Just think—tomorrow we leave Kyoto and get to sleep in our own beds again. At least for a few weeks.”
With a rush of affection, he took her hand. If there was one thing he could count on, it was having Bailey beside him. He exhaled and concentrated on her familiar warmth.
Mikhail entered the room, head high and shoulders back, his hair artfully swooped over his forehead. He managed to make warm-up pants and his red Russian team jacket look like Armani. Expression calm, he took his seat next to Kisa. While Dev wanted to crawl out of his skin with a mess of emotions from shock and anger to a shameful craving for more, Mikhail Reznikov appeared utterly unaffected.
Dev had never hated him more.
Author Bio

After writing for years yet never really finding the right inspiration, Keira discovered her voice in gay romance, which has become a passion. She writes contemporary, historical, fantasy, and paranormal fiction and — although she loves delicious angst along the way — Keira firmly believes in happy endings. For as Oscar Wilde once said:

“The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.”


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Universal Buy Link: 
 
Length: 26,000 words
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
 
 
Blurb


Seth Wild is a firefighter who has lost everything. Nearly dying in a fire, he is scared and angry and chases away the only good thing in his life—school teacher Casey McGuire.

When a sudden and violent snow storm hits their town he receives a message Casey and ten kids are trapped in an education centre center with no way out. There is no one else who can help, he’s the last fire fighter in town with his bum leg and his icy heart.


He doesn’t hesitate. He always promised he would be Casey’s hero, but will he ever again be Casey’s love?

 
 Review
 
*****
 
 

I found this book made me think about how we deal with life’s challenges, especially when the going gets tough.

 

Seth is suffering from self-denial and self-worth After a horrible call out left him trapped under a building.  Damaging him physically and mentally.  He is hell bent on getting back to work as a fireman, that he sees nothing else, and only hears what he wants to hear.

 

Casey is Seth’s husband. Who has tried so hard to offer his help and support him and only been pushed away and to breaking point.

 

Both characters are strong and very vividly written, their arguments are raw, but as a reader you know that deep down their love is still there.

 

Casey gets trapped with ten kids that he teaches, when a massive snow storm hits and there is a white out.

 

We follow Seth as he battles to try and rescue Casey and the kids, but can he also rescue their relationship?

 

I found the story really well written and vivid, I was biting my nails throughout the snow storm.  The story is all go from the start to finish.   It may be a short novella but the writing makes you think you have watched an epic movie, it is so well written and the author makes the most of her words.

 

 

 

Excerpt
“…New York's LaGuardia and JFK International airports officially closed on Thursday afternoon due to the storm, according to the FAA. Both airports had been open earlier despite significant flight cancellations. LaGuardia resumed operations around 7 p.m. ET, while JFK said it planned to reopen sometime during the course of the night.”
Casey McGuire rinsed the last of the mugs and placed it on the drainer with the rest. For some reason, it was always mugs they ran out of in this house. Seth had this idea that the dishwasher ate them but Casey was convinced that they just needed a system to make sure they brought all the mugs back to the kitchen when they were done. Last week he’d found a mug in the bathroom, inside the cabinet, full of cold coffee.
Seth had sworn it wasn’t him, but Casey knew it had been.
He didn’t make a fuss. After all, what was one full coffee mug teetering on the edge of a glass shelf? In the grand scheme of things, it meant nothing.
The TV droned on behind him as he took a dishcloth and wiped the first of the mugs.
“…states from South Carolina to Maine are under a winter storm warning and the governors of Georgia, North Carolina, Virginia, New Jersey and New York have declared states of emergency. Forecasters say the northeast states can expect hurricane-force wind gusts and blinding snow…”
The news channels had been warning about this storm for a week, a huge dump of snow that would cripple the eastern seaboard, but that as yet hadn’t caused much concern here in Vermont. Casey glanced out of the window at the yard and wished for more snow. That way maybe Seth wouldn’t be able to leave the house, and possibly the two of them could have a rational conversation that didn’t end with Seth leaving and Casey wondering where the hell he was going wrong.
“…the situation is “ugly” and “dangerous,” and people should stay indoors…”
Last night, all Casey had said was that Seth shouldn’t forget about his appointment next morning. Seth left the house, clambering back into bed at some ungodly hour, reeking of beer or worse. In his sleep, Seth tried to pull Casey close, but Casey had deliberately scooted up and away, and left his husband in the bed.
Today, at ten, Seth had exploded, accusing Casey of meddling in things he didn’t understand, telling Casey he was fine and didn’t need a shrink.
Yet another night when one of them ended up on the couch.
“Hey.”
Casey stiffened at Seth’s soft, gravelly voice. His chest was tight, he didn’t want to argue. He wanted Seth to admit there was a problem, because he couldn’t handle it anymore. Six months of this had taken its toll. Maybe if Seth had seen the specialists when he should’ve, maybe if he’d seen a counselor, then Casey would see he was trying.
Seth was in denial, and it was destroying their marriage.
He didn’t turn to face Seth; he’d made a decision in the early morning, packed a bag with what he could get without waking Seth, and decided they needed space. If Seth had space he might face up to himself instead of taking it out on Casey.
Seth slid his hands around Casey’s waist, resting his chin on Casey’s shoulder and sighed. He’d brushed his teeth so the only scent was peppermint, which at least was a step up from yesterday when he’d attempted a clumsy kiss with beer still on his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured near Casey’s ear.
Casey could turn now, accept the apology, even offer one of his own for pushing Seth, and everything would be normal for a while. Seth could go back to pretending he was okay, and Casey could go back to walking on eggshells and avoiding conflict.
But what kind of a marriage was that?
What kind of a man did that make Casey?
“I know you are,” he said. Then he tensed because that wasn’t the answer Seth wanted, and Casey knew what would happen next. Seth would go straight onto defensive mode, give some bullshit about how he was a firefighter and didn’t need a counselor.
Meanwhile, Seth not accepting any of what he needed was tearing their marriage apart. Casey had been careful with him for a long time, after all, Seth had nearly died. But when months had passed and he was still refusing to listen to reason, that was when Casey realized he’d been wrong in accepting Seth’s view on what kind of healing he needed.
“I think we need some time apart,” Casey said, and placed the dried mug onto the counter. He eased away from Seth’s hold and moved to the other side of the kitchen table. Somehow, having it between them gave Casey the strength to do what he’d decided was the right thing. Seth had this way of holding him, with a near desperation that never failed to have Casey crumbling.
Seth didn’t answer at first. Casey stopped himself from repeating the words and hoped that Seth was just thinking. The only noise in the kitchen was the news, focusing on Greyhound buses and the routes being cancelled.
 
“Why?”
 
 
 
RJ’s goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.

RJ Scott is the bestselling author of over one hundred romance books. She writes emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.


The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat. 

 

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Westside Wolf Pack Series

 

By Zoe Perdita

 

Check out the series now, with brand spanking new covers

 

Book 1  free for five days (Feb. 7th-11th) And then $0.99 (untill Feb 14th)

 

Book2 & Book 3  On sale at just $0.99  (Feb 7th - 14th)

 

 

 

 

Burn 

Book 2

Author: Zoe Perdiya

Pages: 236

Publisher: Eccentric Erotica; 

 

Buy Links

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Blurb

 

Axel Cross is a fuck-up. 

 

The sexy tattooed wolf threw away his chances of ever becoming pack alpha at seventeen, and Ben, the pack’s omega, has no idea why.

 

Ben Singer has been in love with Axel from the time they were teenagers. Ben thought they were mates, but Axel tore Ben’s heart into pieces and stomped that dream into the mud.

 

When Axel’s uncle kicks Ben out of their Pittsburgh pack, it’s the chance the omega has been waiting for. Then Axel demands to accompany the smaller wolf. He’s determined to go with Ben, even if the omega doesn’t want him around. 

 

While desire stirs between Axel and Ben, years of heartache haunt them. Can the alpha and omega let go of their past in order to find a bright new future together?

 

Contains a friends to lovers fated mates romance between an omega wolf and an alpha wolf and includes graphic gay sex.

 

 

 

 

 

Burn 

Book 2

Author: Zoe Perdiya

Pages: 276

Publisher: Eccentric Erotica; 

 

Buy Links

Amazon US

Amazon UK

 

 

 

Blurb

 

Quinton Santos and Gage Varela are the only remaining wolves from the once great Westside pack. As a dangerous threat resurfaces, they need an alpha to lead, but Gage and Quinton are only beta wolves. 

 

Even worse, they can hardly stand each other. 

 

Gage knows the rich and arrogant Quinton is his mate. While giving into his desire for the beautiful man is easy, Gage isn’t about to fall in love. 

 

The fire that killed Quinton’s family left scars deeper than those on his skin. He knows Gage is the stronger wolf, and he’s worked hard to prove he’s not weak. But no matter what Quinton does, Gage only sees him as rich and useless. 

 

After years of hurt, can Gage and Quinton let go of the darkness in the past and forgive enough to fall in love?

 

Contains an enemies to lovers fated mates romance between two beta wolves and includes graphic gay sex.

 

 

 

 

Break 

Book 3

Author: Zoe Perdiya

Pages: 254

Publisher: Eccentric Erotica; 

 

 

Buy Links

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Blurb

 

Being an omega sucks. 

 

Luca Collins should know. His pack mistreats him, his dad doesn’t care about him, and bullies make his life hell. 

 

Enter Colton Smith, the kind hearted human who befriends Luca. They share a first kiss, a first love, and plan to run away from their little Montana town and start a new life together. 

 

But fate tears them apart. 

 

When they meet again, Colton’s a wolf, and Luca is hiding in a shell, broken into a thousand different pieces. Can they overcome the secrets that tore them apart and find the love they once shared?

 

Contains a friends to lovers fated mates romance between an omega wolf and a hunter and includes graphic gay sex.

 

 

Author Zoe Perdiya

 

Zoe Perdita writes gay shifter romance because the only thing better than one hot werewolf dude is two hot werewolf dudes making out. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with a fluffy orange cat and a lively roommate. When she's not writing, Zoe likes to travel, read and play video games.

Let Zoe know what books you like by leaving reviews. It gives her an idea what she should write next!

 

 

Author Links

 

Zoe loves to hear from her fans so please send her an email: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. 

Or visit her blog: http://zoeperdita.blogspot.com/

Join her mailing list for special updates, contests and sneak peeks to upcoming works:

http://zoeperdita.blogspot.com/p/join-my-mailing-list.html

 

 

 

Universal Buy Link: books2read.com/JustHereForThePain

Length: 90,000 words approx.
Cover Design: Natasha Snow
The Underdogs Series
Book #1 - Manic Pixie Dream Boy - books2read.com/ManicPixieDreamBoy
 
 
Blurb
---. Whips and chains - not optional .---


Sid. Drummer for The Underdogs. Secretly yearning for pain and submission.
Asher. AKA Stan. Stalker. More than meets the eye.

It’s hard to find good hookups while on tour. Sid wants pain, humiliation, and the kind of sex that isn’t easy to get from one-night stands. So for now, he’s given up, settled for an online Dom to get his rocks off, and focused on his band instead. The Underdogs are getting increasingly popular, but there is one fan who has followed Sid since before he even joined the band, and he’s driving Sid mad! Rich, spoiled hipster brat looking for the bad boy experience. If he knew what Sid was really into, he would run for the hills.


Asher is convinced that Sid is The One, his One True Love, his endgame. Years ago, Asher lost his virginity to Sid, and from that moment on, he knew it was meant to be. They had a spark, that honest connection that couldn’t be faked. The members of Sid’s band call him a stalker, but all he wants is to offer Sid his love. When Sid finally chokes out what he wants, Asher is more than ready to unleash it on him.


But the last time Sid was out as gay and submissive, he got badly burnt when his former band kicked him out, and the doors to many opportunities slammed in his face.

Asher wants the whole world to know that he’s dating Sid. Problem is, Sid would much rather keep the relationship as pain-with-benefits.


 
 

K. A. Merikan

 

is the pen name for Kat and Agnes Merikan, a team of writers, who are taken for sisters with surprising regularity. Kat’s the mean sergeant and survival specialist of the duo, never hesitating to kick Agnes’s ass when she’s slacking off. Her memory works like an easy-access catalogue, which allows her to keep up with both book details and social media. Also works as the emergency GPS. Agnes is the Merikan nitpicker, usually found busy with formatting and research. Her attention tends to be scattered, and despite pushing thirty, she needs to apply makeup to buy alcohol. Self-proclaimed queen of the roads.


They love the weird and wonderful, stepping out of the box, and bending stereotypes both in life and books. When you pick up a Merikan book, there’s one thing you can be sure of – it will be full of surprises.

 

 

 

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