BOOK BLAST

 

 

BOOK 1
 
Book Title: Just A Week (#1)
 
Author: Jena Wade
 
Publisher: Self Published
 
Cover Artist: Silver Heart Design Studio www.silverheartstudio.com
 
Release Date: May 12, 2018
 
Genre/s: Contemporary Gay Romance
 
Book 1 of 2
 




Blurb



Just a week is not enough time to fall in love, but Fate doesn’t care. Seth’s carefully crafted plan for how his life will go doesn’t include falling in love with a guy in his horrible hometown. He wants to start a new life anywhere but at home. Until Maddox storms in with his multi-colored hair and carefree attitude.

Long distance relationships don’t work and Seth isn’t into gambling with his future. But the more time he spends with Maddox, the more he’s willing to throw caution to the wind. Now his plan for the rest of his life has been turned upside down and seems to include things Seth never thought possible, including a lifetime of happiness in his hometown.


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BOOK 2

 

 

Book Title: Just A Year (#2)
 
Author: Jena Wade
 
Publisher: Self Published
 
Cover Artist: Silver Heart Design Studio www.silverheartstudio.com
 
Release Date: May 12, 2018
 
Book 2 of 2
 
Genre/s: Contemporary Gay Romance
 
Length: 22,000 Words 
 
 



Blurb

Just a year is too much time to spend apart from the man you love, but Seth has a carefully crafted plan for how to make it work. Taking an internship four hours away from Maddox may not have been the smartest choice Seth has ever made, but he is determined to make it work. Until life throws a wrench in his plans and turns his and Maddox’s world upside down.






Excerpt from Just a Year



Just a year. No more, no less. Three hundred sixty-five days. Five hundred, twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes.

Great, now I would have the Rentsoundtrack playing in my head throughout the entire ceremony.

I took a deep breath and focused on the commencement speaker. After five long years, the last one and a half being the longest by far, I’d finished my degree. No more term papers, no more eight a.m. classes, no more all-nighters in the library so I could have a homework free weekend with my boyfriend.

Maddox.

He sat out there in the crowd with my parents. I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn’t see him. I’m not even sure which section they were in. The Breslin Center was filled to the brim with graduates and their families. All waiting for their individual name to be called so they could walk across the stage and collect a fake diploma. The real one wouldn’t arrive in the mail for a few weeks.

Just a year. That wasn’t that long, was it?

Maddox and I had survived the past year and a half getting to know each other over Skype and Facetime, chatting, Snapchatting, the works. Thank God for the digital age. On the rare occasions that we physically saw each other, well, I mean, I don’t really have to explain how those encounters went.

Jobs right out of college were hard to come by, everyone knew that. Maddox would understand.

Just a year.

“Seth Brown, Masters of Science in Marketing Research.”

I took a deep breath, walked across the stage, accepted my fake diploma from the university president, smiled for a picture and then I was done.

Five years, would have been six if I hadn’t busted my ass taking summer courses, done.

I smiled as I looked around the crowd, searching for Maddox. He’d make this whole thing worthwhile. It was his idea for me to walk at graduation. I was all set to skip it, but he insisted that I needed to do the traditional thing, and he and my parents would drive up for a nice visit.

Against the odds, I found him. His pink spiked hair stood out. How could it not? He grinned and waved frantically.

Worth it. Totally worth it. I would do anything to see that smile. To earn that smile.

Let’s hope it stayed in place after I told him about the job offer.

Just a year.

 

 

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About the Author 


Jena began writing in January of 2013 as a New Year's Resolution--and so far she has stuck to it! She lives in Michigan. By day she works as a web developer, and at night she writes. Born and raised on a farm, she spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden, or riding her horses. She also helps run the family dairy farm.

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Kethric Wilcox has a new MM paranormal vampire book out:

 

 

 

Blurb

 

Cain Slays Abel!

 

In this day and age, that's not an earth-shattering headline. We want headlines that scream of life-altering events.

 

Terrorists Nuke Peace Conference!

 

Wow! What a gripping headline. This is something to change the world. Oh, wait! The world did transform. This ran as the lead story a few hours before the beginning of The Upheaval. The current world birthed in nuclear fire and electromagnetic disruption. Gone are the nations I grew up with. My life altered again.

Cain Slays Abel!

 

The truth behind such a classic story is far more complicated than anyone could imagine.

The brothers’ tale is a life-altering event, at least for me. Twice a report of murder transformed my life in an unpredictable way. I am Richard St. Martin, Master of Darkness. Before my story can be told, you need to learn the story of the first dark monster, Cain. My stepchildren call him Father Cain because he was the first. To find the actuality behind the myth, I recruited two talented mortals - Dr. Jeremiah Banks, Archaeologist, and Professor Juan Di Vargas, Theologian and Religious Scholar. Together they found the secret origin of the

 

 

vampires

 

The Curse banner

 

 

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Archeaological Team Madrid

 

 

Excerpt

 

 

 

 

JEREMIAH SURVEYED his clothing choices for the conference and grimaced. He hated suits, but Dr. Sinclair, the dean of his department, and Mrs. Pike, the dean's secretary and sort of a second mother, both insisted he dress in professional academic attire.

 

"You're representing the University of Arizona and the Republic of Texas, Dr. Banks. Think of the university's reputation. Don’t appear like you are fresh off the boat following months in the field," Jeremiah recalled Dr. Sinclair saying as he handed him his clearance to travel. During a visit to her house, Mrs. Pike said similar things before she called her late husband's tailor and made an appointment to fit Jeremiah for new suits. Suits made Jeremiah uncomfortable, he preferred sturdy field clothing, but Dr. Sinclair held firm, no wild field archaeologist attire. Resigned to his fate, Jeremiah gave into almost all the dean's requirements, but refused when the request came to cutting his long copper locks. Jeremiah brushed through his hair, twisted, and slid the length into a sapphire-encrusted leather tube to hold everything in check.

 

The Emir, who oversaw his dig on behalf of the caliph's government, gave him the hair binder as a gift. The man developed a fascination with Jeremiah's copper hair and its silky texture. With his hair under control, Jeremiah dressed to impress in a navy-blue suit with a subtle white pinstripe. Sapphire cufflinks and tie tack finished the ensemble. The cufflinks came as a second present from the emir after a night of admiring Jeremiah's body in all its naked glory. The combination of Jeremiah's pale skin and fiery chest hair and pubic region, plus the impressive prick and balls in their natural state, fascinated the noble. The emir never touched him or asked for contact; the man wanted to check if the red hair remained the same color all the way down.

 

All three pieces of jewelry helped to highlight his bright blue eyes. Jeremiah checked himself in the mirror before picking up his notes and slides for his lecture and heading down to breakfast. During the evening, the staff worked their magic, transforming the ballroom from reception hall into a dining room. A waiter led Jeremiah to his assigned table and seat right next to Prof. O'Grady. The rest of the table filled with other scholars from universities in the Republic of Texas. He found Dr. Lanister's vacant seat next to his and opposite Prof. O'Grady. "Prof. O'Grady, I want to apologize for the rude comments last night at the reception."

 

"No, Dr. Banks, if anyone got out of line last night, I did, and should be doing the apologizing. Thank you for correcting my attitude towards Dr. Lanister. I spoke way out of line. I wanted to apologize to him in person, but the hotel informed me Dr. Lanister checked out late last night claiming illness and returned home."

 

"I'm sorry he departed. He stopped by my room last night reeking of alcohol, so I encouraged him to retire for the evening. I'm sorry to learn he caught something," came Jeremiah's reply as a waiter stopped and filled his coffee cup. "I wonder, are you familiar with Prof. Juan Di Vargas from the University of Madrid?"

 

"Only by reputation, Dr. Banks. I understand he's presenting today on how the story of the Flood developed in several early cultures," O'Grady remarked, signaling the waiter to take her plate. "Don't you present today as well, Dr. Banks?"

 

"Yes, about an hour after Prof. Di Vargas. I hope to catch a moment of his time between lectures. His latest paper mentioned the possibility of the biblical city of Enoch being in the Tigris-Euphrates Delta. I think Enoch might be part of the culture, which produced the tablets I found. I wish to compare research with him."

 

"Good luck in your endeavor. Di Vargas doesn't often deal with those who pursue the more physical aspects of their researches, at least according to his reputation. I can arrange for you to speak with a scholar of the period more open to using archaeology. Let me introduce you to Prof. Chevalier from the University of Paris."

 

She missed Jeremiah's grimace of distaste, which he hid behind a sip of coffee. Chevalier's research clashed with every line of the investigation he pursued while Di Vargas's headed in a similar direction from a different angle. Jeremiah wiped his hands with his napkin, picked up his notes and slides, and rose from the table.

 

"Thank you for the offer, Dr. O'Grady. Perhaps another time. Please excuse me. I need to make sure the media team receives enough time to arrange the presentation before lecturing. I'm confident we'll cross paths at dinner."

 

"I think they plan to mix things up tonight, but there will be other meetings during the conference. Such a pleasure to meet you again, Jeremiah, or I should say Dr. Banks. You stood out, one of my more promising students, and I'm proud of how well you blossomed under Adamson's direction." O'Grady offered Jeremiah her hand. "I'm eager for your lecture this afternoon."

 

Jeremiah shook her hand and left to track down the media team. He still needed to set up his slides before attending the lectures he wanted to listen to this morning.

 

 

Archeaological Team Arizona, Texas

 

 

 

 

Author Bio

 

Kethric Wilcox

Kethric Wilcox began writing and publishing as a personal challenge to be creative in a new medium. He was attracted to the LGBT Romance genre after reading several paranormal romances where it seemed like the shape-shifters never faced dangers outside the relationship issues thrown at them by their authors. Thus was born the shifter hunting House of Beauty on the premise of a twisted fairy tale. What if Beauty and the Beast didn't end with happily ever after? Wilcox's Legend of the Silver Hunter trilogy looks at this question and then asks what happens if a member of this family falls in love with a descendant of the Beast, can they find happily ever after or are they doomed to repeat the tale. Born and raised in Massachusetts, Wilcox now lives and works in Little Rock, Arkansas in a house that he and his partner renovated. By day Wilcox is a graphic artist and exhibit designer, and at night an author of paranormal romances.

 

Wilcox currently has two new trilogies in progress: Origin of the Vampires (The Curse, Lord Hunter, and Lord Slayer) set in a dystopian future of the Silver Hunter world; and Legacy of the Silver Hunter (The Goldilocks Pledge, Ruby Wine, and Black Snow) which continues the story told in the Legend trilogy from the view points of other couples in Kieran and Cory’s lives.

 

 

 

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Cover Design: Lou Harper @ Cover Affairs

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The Guardians of Gaia Series

Blood Bathory: Like The Night (Book #1) Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
 
Blurb
 

Tyger tyger, burning bright…

As theriomorphs in the service of Gaia, Tyr Gustavson and his lover Aaron fought against the vampires aiding the Third Reich during WWII. But even the fierceness of Tyr’s tiger form couldn’t save Aaron from being torn apart when a mission went horribly wrong. Lost in his pain, Tyr remained feral until he was unwillingly recalled to Gaia’s service seventy years later.


In the forests of the night...


When fighter pilot Adam Carson’s plane was shot down, he thought the worst that could happen was being sent to a Nazi prison camp. Little did he know there were other monsters in the shadows, and one of them wanted to claim him. But refusing Elizabeth Bathory had a price. Adam was turned against his will and trapped in a coffin as punishment for his resistance.


What immortal hand or eye…


While hunting ghouls, Tyr and his colleagues discover Adam’s prison. Believing he could be an asset, Marielle Du Lac frees him. Adam joins the team and is drawn to Tyr, despite Tyr’s hatred of vampires. When Tyr rejects Adam out of fear, Adam accepts a suicidal mission to find Thrace, the original nosferatu. If their desperate plan works, the theriomorphs could destroy not only Elizabeth, but the sire of all vampires as well. But if it fails, they could unleash a force leading to the destruction of them all… and perhaps of Gaia herself.

 

 

 
 
About The Authors


Ari McKay is the professional pseudonym for Arionrhod and McKay, who have been writing together for over a decade. Their collaborations encompass a wide variety of romance genres, including contemporary, fantasy, science fiction, gothic, and action/adventure. Their work includes the Blood Bathory series of paranormal novels, the Herc’s Mercs series, as well as two historical Westerns: Heart of Stone and Finding Forgiveness. When not writing, they can often be found scheming over costume designs or binge watching TV shows together.


Arionrhod is a systems engineer by day who is eagerly looking forward to (hopefully) becoming a full time writer in the not-too-distant future. Now that she is an empty-nester, she has turned her attentions to finding the perfect piece of land to build a fortress in preparation for the zombie apocalypse, and baking (and eating) far too many cakes.


McKay is an English teacher who has been writing for one reason or another most of her life. She also enjoys knitting, reading, cooking, and playing video games. She has been known to knit in public. Given she has the survival skills of a gnat, she’s relying on Arionrhod to help her survive the zombie apocalypse.
 

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Title: Love's Magic

Series: Revolutionary Heart Book 1

Author: Janice Jarrell

Publisher:  Self Published

Length: 255 pages

  • Publication Date: May 9, 2018

 

 

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Synopsis

 

Professor Nate Reese rushes to protect a female student and is severely injured at the hands of her assailant. Traumatized by the attack, Nate sets his feet on a no-holds-barred path of activism designed to force university officials into addressing the issue of on-campus assault. At the same time, terrified of losing his hard-won status at the university, his partner, David Gardener, a veteran of 12 years as a very popular Professor, is reluctant to support Nate's militant efforts. Seemingly abandoned by his partner, Nate sees David's aversion to his activism as indifference to the trauma he suffered. Day by day they watch as their relationship disintegrates, while still struggling to resolve the disruptive issues engulfing the school they love.

 

In the meantime, Irishman Colin Campbell, handsome and charismatic Sergeant for the campus police force, fights his own on-going war against campus assault. But behind his obsessive desire to gain justice for victims lies a devastating secret which could forever destroy his fiercely independent facade and expose his deepest fear. Ultimately, it is Colin’s powerful connection to a steady, dark-eyed Title IX consultant which threatens to tear down his defenses and shatter the barriers protecting his heart.

 

Cocky and irresistible, the dynamic police officer was everything Joshua Abrams had ever longed for in a man, but Colin simply didn’t ‘do’ relationships. Unless Joshua would settle for a one night stand, or a very short-term liaison, there was no room for him in Colin’s life. Yet even knowing this, he couldn’t keep himself from falling hopelessly in love with his ‘magic man’. Despite the passion between them, he knew his quiet, reclusive nature could never hope to entice the vibrant, freedom-loving Irishman, so eventually he begins to back slowly away. 

Eventually, a disagreement over an oddly disturbing case causes Colin’s hot Irish temper to erupt and their relationship is irrevocably shattered. Heartbroken, and convinced that Colin is gone forever, Joshua flees Charlottesville without a word, leaving Colin adrift and inconsolable.

 

 But Joshua Abrams hadn’t merely stepped over the indelible line Colin had drawn between his heart and the dangers of real love, he had burned through it like hot lava. Finally forced to acknowledge his love for Joshua and his desperate need to have the quiet, Jewish man by his side, Colin must now face the dark and long-suppressed memories which are irrevocably linked to his love for the handsome consultant. Without even a forwarding address to guide him, he vows to find Joshua and bring him home. Colin’s struggle to conquer his pride and fear in order to find the love of his life and achieve their happily ever after will touch your heart.

 

 Four lives in turmoil fighting for the relationships they cherish, and at the heart of the struggle, a great university struggles to survive its most harrowing challenge.

 

 

 

Excerpt from Love's Magic

"Don't," Joshua said. "Don't. I understand now, Colin. Don't. You don't have to do this in one conversation. The O'Malley girl...,"

"ls a dead ringer for my sister, Kathleen," Colin finished, then shook his head again. "Hell, even my mother saw it." His head fell forward and he once again rested his forehead against Joshua’s shoulder.

"There's a lot more," he said, his voice still shaky. "A shit-load of stuff I should probably be telling a shrink... how I couldn't cry at her funeral or ever since then, how I got revenge against the bastard who raped her by catching guys who'd done the same to other girls...," he exhaled a sigh that seemed to come from the soles of his feet then glanced up at Joshua again. "And on and on and on...," He shuddered.

Joshua laughed softly. "You may not realize it," he murmured, "but you are telling this stuff to a shrink."

Colin exhaled a quiet laugh then released Joshua and leaned back. He scrubbed both hands through his hair and gazed quietly toward the lake. "I came here to explain what happened the day we quarreled and why it happened. But that's not the most important reason I'm here." He met Joshua's eyes. "I came here to ask you to forgive me and come back to Virginia with me."

Joshua met his gaze. "It had to have been hard," he said softly. "Coming here like this. Telling me all this. Took a lot of courage."

Colin snorted a cynical laugh. "Courage," he said scornfully. "I've been lurking in my apartment like a coward for months."

"How many people have heard the story you just told me?" Joshua asked.

"No one."

"Then shut-up. When I say it took courage I know what the fuck I'm talking about. Don't ever call yourself a coward again."

Colin glanced at him and smiled.

"This is what I do for a living, remember?"

Colin nodded. "Point taken. Now tell me you're coming back to Virginia with me."

Joshua sighed, his full lips pressed into a thin line. "Colin..." he frowning as if in pain. "Jesus, Colin."

"You don't believe in him," Colin observed with a half-smile."

Joshua shot him a look. "Fact is, we do, but that's not the point. Colin, I've got a job. I've made peace with my family... actually grown close to them. I've started to feel happy here. I don't know if I..."

"When does the job start?"

"Next week," Joshua told him.

"Screw the job. Tell them you changed your mind. You have to come back with me."

Joshua stared at him, his mouth half-open in surprise and disbelief. "Colin, wait. Wait. Just let me…" He leaned back, shaking his head. "This is all happening too fast."

"No it's not. It didn't happen nearly fast enough!"

"Colin, you can't be sure. You can't mean…,"

"I do mean it, Josh! And I AM sure!"

"So I can come back to Virginia and be your fuck buddy?" Joshua asked then shook his head and pulled away, his hands dropping to his sides. "We've talked about this. I can't do it, Colin. Not with you. I just ca-"

"No!" Colin interrupted, he re-captured Joshua's hands in his. "No, Josh! That's not what I want!" he said. He stared down at their joined hands for a count of three, as if gathering courage then inhaled deeply and spoke: "There are no fuck buddies. When you left Virginia any desire I felt for any other man went with you. I just want you, Josh. Only you. No one else. Just you." He shook his head and looked at Joshua, quirking his brow comically.

Joshua gave a short laugh. "Well, that’s a pretty stunning admission for Charlottesville's champion stud-muffin."

Colin huffed a quick ironic laugh.

Joshua pulled his hands from Colin’s grip and captured the handsome Irish face between his palms. "Listen to me," he said, staring into Colin's eyes. "You've never wanted an exclusive relationship. Not with me. Not with anyone. Why is it different now?" His hands dropped to his sides. “Why?”

Colin sighed again and gave Joshua a rueful smile. "Hang on a second, OK?" After a moment he drew in another deep breath and recaptured Joshua’s hands in his own. "I -" he began, then glanced up at Joshua and swallowed. "It’s different now because I love you, Josh." His eyes widened as if shocked at his own words. "Holy crap."

They both gave a short burst of laughter at the surprise in Colin's voice, then sat in silence, hands clasped while the lowering sun cast evening shadows over their shelter amid the driftwood. Finally Colin lifted Joshua's hand to his lips and kissed it.

"That's about it, buddy. That's my full confession. I'm sure there's stuff I've left out, but if you come home with me I'll hire you as my full time shrink and you can get the rest of it out of me a little at a time." He collapsed forward into Joshua's arms and moaned. "Oh, Christ, Josh, I'm so fucking tired."

Joshua stroked his back nuzzling against his hair. "I don't doubt it."

"Is this what you call a breakthrough?" Colin asked, his voice muffled against Joshua's down jacket.

"More like a break down," Joshua replied, smiling, his hand still moving in slow circles on Colin's back.

Colin lifted his head and looked into Joshua's dark eyes. "Tell me you'll come home with me," he said. "Please." He lifted his hand and twirled one of Joshua's curls slowly, sensuously, around his index finger. "Please," he repeated in a hoarse whisper. "I need you, Josh. Nothing's right in my life without you."

He felt Joshua's presence in that moment as a still pool, a quiet and serene place of healing and love beyond any condition or expectation. And the truth of his words echoed through every fiber of his being. "Josh," he whispered, "I love you. Please come home."

Joshua looked into Colin's emerald green eyes feeling his love for this beautiful, magnetic man rising up within him in a blinding surge of feeling. He gave a mirthless laugh and shook his head in a gesture of resigned defeat. "Oh my God," he moaned, "my mother is going to fucking kill me!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author Bio

My name is Jan Jarrrell. I am a 74 year old retired grandmother who lives in Seattle, WA. I have been a writer of slash fan fiction for almost twenty years under the name Rakshi. I have written both RPS fiction and FPS and my list of works stands at three hundred and thirty seven, including stories as short as drabbles (stories of 100 words) and a series entitled ‘Time’ that was 119,012 words long. I have never had a work officially published, though two of my stories, Char ar’ I’ear (Earth and Sea) and ‘To The Distant Shore’ were included in the Vilya II fanzine. You can find my works on Archive of our Own and on LiveJournal under the username Rakshi.

I began writing original character fiction about a year ago and found I love it more than anything else in my life. I tend to fall in love with my characters and always want to give them that happy ending that I just know they deserve.

 

 

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RELEASE BLITZ
 
 
Book Title: Ice Fairy 3: Coming Together
 
Author: S. L. Danielson
 
Publisher: Self Published
 
Cover Artist: Dan Skinner
 
Genre/s: contemporary m/m, new adult, romance, swapping partners
 
Length: 55,551 words/166 pages
 
Release Date: May 25, 2018
 
 



Blurb

 


Sexy sparks fly when four best friends become roommates... and more

With Olympic Gold in his possession, Sam is the newest darling of the skating world. Brett does his best to be supportive but the brighter the light shines on his boyfriend; the more he is left in the shadows. Cracks appear and the relationship begins to break down.

Their friends try their best to assist however they can. Their advice and support is crucial when Brett suspects Sam’s creepy agent is up to no good; and even more so when a dastardly plot by Sam's own father is uncovered.

Can this couple finally come to terms with fame and find the peace they crave? An offer by Ryan and Caleb might provide the answers they seek...if they're brave enough to take a leap of faith.

Is it too late for Brett and his precious Ice Fairy or can they come together?

 
 
 
 
Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited
 
 
 
 


Excerpt



Chapter One

Brett curled up on the couch in the basement; waiting for Sam to return from the bathroom. He’d muted the movie they were watching, “Star Trek; Into Darkness.” It’d become one of their new favorites in the very brief hours that they usually had together now. It was the only saving grace for Brett, who felt not only very left out of Sam’s newly found fame; he felt cracks forming in their nine month old relationship.

He had to chide himself for feeling and sounding like a woman to himself; a woman who missed her man more than anything and wished that they could have a lot more time together. But that just wasn’t happening. Not with how things were now. Brett was in college and was luckily on spring break. But it was only a week. What was a week in the life of his now very famous lover? The one that people called incessantly, especially his agent, or was it his accountant? Maybe his now very famous coach too? Or was it a reporter again?

Whoever the fuck it was, Brett wished they would vaporize. He wanted Sam to himself this evening, if they didn’t mind, thank you very fucking much!

After a grunt of a breath, Brett tried to stave off the headache that gnawed at every muscle and nerve in him. Why did it have to be this way? Everything before the Olympics had seemed so simple. They were a couple of guys in love, just living happily, going to college, skating, having some laughs, seeing their friends, and having sleepovers.

In fact, things had been awesome with Sam’s life; his father had apologized for all that he’d done and said; which wasn’t taken very seriously at first, but he'd convinced them and was back living at home with his wife and daughter. His now very famous son, Sam, was able to buy his own place if he wanted to. He stayed with his folks on a limited basis; the rest was traveling, making appearances, etc. But they weren’t with Brett at his side.

That, worst of all, tore at Brett’s heart. Jealousy. Suspicion that someone else would get to Sam’s heart the way he had, but maybe just did it way better, sans the teasing and tripping and bullying. Would he lose Sam to his newly found fame? It was heading straight to his beautiful head; and Brett hated every bit of it.

With every second that Sam was away from him lately, even though it’d been only two months since the Olympic win and their lives had changed forever…Brett missed his boyfriend. Even now, he wished they could spend the whole week together, uninterrupted; but he knew that was a pipe dream.

He grabbed a throw pillow and leaned his jaw on it, waiting for Sam’s return. As if he’d wished for it, he heard the door close and felt Sam’s strong arms around him once again.

“Hey, handsome.” Sam straddled over Brett’s lap, after he’d ditched the pillow of course, and they kissed deeply.

Now this was more like it! Holding Sam, getting to touch him, kiss him, taste his lips and his face, feel his body, and savor every cell of him.

“Mmm, there’s my Sam. I get to have you in my arms for more than a few minutes.” Brett was trying to be a good sport about all of this and to take his lover’s fame in stride. It was still tough, though.

Sam sat back and pouted. Boy, did that guy have such adorable expressions even when he was pouting. “I’m here right now, Brett. No one’s calling or bugging me. You have me all to your heart’s content.” He leaned in and kissed Brett again; they hung on for a long time after.

Well there was a small blessing anyway; not once had he heard Sam’s phone. Of course, it was likely on silent after the looks he got last time. They’d been interrupted no less than a dozen times on their last date. He could see a few; but that much? Hell no. He figured Sam likely took care of the messages while he was in the bathroom for almost ten minutes.

Putting aside his harsh thoughts on the whole situation, Brett just wanted to soak up all he could of his love. He held Sam close. “Stay with me? My folks are good about us being here; you know that. Hell, they buy breakfast for us sometimes.” He’d do anything to keep Sam there with him just that much longer.

“Brett…”

Shit, not this again. The now famous “I’d love to but I’ve got a…” fill in the blank from there. Photo shoot? Interview? Public appearance? This has gotten too old too fast.

“I know, I know,” Brett digressed. “We can be quick about it though; or just sit down here and hold each other under the blankets.” He waggled his brows. “Naked of course.” He held his lips open, so unsure of what Sam’s reaction would be, he wasn’t sure if he should smile or frown at this point.

“Brett… you know I want to…” Sam responded slowly, his dark eyes just peeking out from under his dark hair. There was a 'but' coming though; Brett knew it and he expected it. Sam had not been the same since his glorious win and the gold medal that had hung around his neck now dangled between them; not literally, but metaphorically. Though he wouldn’t be at all surprised if Sam wore the damn thing all the time.

“Sam, we don’t have to be out in the open here, we could go to the back bedroom or my room…” he was desperate just to hold his lover again. It’d been nearly three weeks since they’d been together sexually and he was about at the end of his rope. “Dammit, Sam. I need you, alright? I want to make love with you again; it’s been way too long.” He didn’t want to beg; but the situation was that bad.

At first, it looked like Sam would turn him down again, because he didn’t respond. But as the seconds passed and their eyes met, it looked like comprehension finally took hold. Sam nodded.

“Okay. I miss you too, Brett. Very much. Don’t you think I do too? I love sleeping with you and being naked together; it’s one of my favorite things. Time just…”

Brett held up his hand. “I know, baby. I know. But right now we’re here, and we’re good, and I want you.” He held Sam tighter and massaged his tight body. “Damn… am I ever ready.” He smiled and felt his cock pushing on his jeans. “Upstairs or here?”

They kissed deeply and savored each other’s mouths for a long moment before they answered that. It was more of a test to see just how horny the other one was. The answer was: very horny. Sam bucked against Brett and started to unbutton his shirt. “Down here. I couldn’t run all the way to your room.”



About the Author 


S. L. (Stephanie) Danielson began writing at the tender age of five. She knew it was her calling from the moment she put pen to paper. In her teens she began writing alternative works and the genre stuck. She created ever more elaborate tales and finally in her early 20’s years began to create works with her new love; male/male romance. She has since written more than 30 works (both solo and collaborations).

Stephanie is classically trained in business, accounting, and HR/training, possessing both an undergrad and graduate degree. She also owned and operated Romance First Publishing where the ultimate goal was to help other unknown, as well as known authors get their start in the publishing world.

 
 
 
Social Media Links
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
RELEASE BLITZ SCHEDULE
 
 
 
 
 

 

 
 
Title: One Last Heist
Genre: Gay Romantic Suspense
Release Date: May 26, 2018
Cover Designer: Soxsational Cover Art
Cover Model: Stuart Reardon
Photographer: FuriousFotog
 
 
 Add to TBR
 
 On sale now for half price! 
 
All other links: books2read.com/last-heist
 
 
 
One last heist.
 
It should’ve been easy. Crack a safe, steal from a villain, and go on vacation. The last thing Mack and Toshiro expect is to descend into a nightmare of betrayal.
 
Mack Ueda-Easton loves three things: his husband, heists, and his odd family of friends. He lives life on the edge. The only cloud on his horizon is the degenerative disease stealing his sight.
 
Toshiro Ueda-Easton tries to juggle his husband, his autistic sister, his interfering mother, and all of their heists. He knows they’re spiraling out of control and the journey they’re travelling can’t last.
 
What neither of them expect is to get catapulted straight into a dangerous conspiracy. They’re now in a race to come out on top. If they fail, the consequences are unimaginable.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 On sale for half price! 
 
 
 
 
Dahlia Donovan wrote her first romance series after a crazy dream about shifters and damsels in distress. She prefers irreverent humour and unconventional characters. An autistic and occasional hermit, her life wouldn’t be complete without her husband and her massive collection of books and video games.
 

 

 

Author: Jack L. Pyke

Novel: Psychopaths & Sinners, Don’t… book 5

Release Date: 22nd May, 2018

 

 

Buy

 

 

 

 

 

Blurb

 

“Because us? Psychopaths and sinners… we don’t need fixing, Gray.”

Three bodies, three mutilations, each one with something… unusual inserted into the wounds. The deaths are enough to leave Ash Thomas scrambling around to find someone to trust as the murders hit so close to home and heart.

For Gray Raoul, MI5 director of G-Branch, the deaths offer something else, a fall back into a familiar life where culling serial killers cater to his own darker mindset. But the farther Gray moves away from home, the more he realises serial killer games in the field are nothing compared to who he has locked up back at home. Sometimes walking the fine line between psychopaths and live-in lovers is a far darker game.

For Ash, that might just mean he’s on his own now, facing a killer who has a deadly fascination for pretty young men and dancing Holly Blue butterflies over their skin.

 

 

 

 

 

Sleeping with Psychopaths: Sharing the Sheets with Readers.

 

Huge thanks to Men & Men Midnight Café for hosting the final day of my tour! It’s been one dark ride. Yesterday I was at Divine Magazine https://divinemagazine.biz/, looking at the dark symbolism behind the ultimate Don’t… psychopath: Gray Raoul, the Crown’s Dog Soldier and culler.

 

Today the Don’t psychopaths are slipping beneath the sheets with some gorgeous author & reader questions. And it gets pretty… intense! Thank you to everyone who supplied a question!

 

Author Ben Brock. When one twin dies and the other lives, sometimes the living twin experiences survivors’ guilt, guilt that they are living and their twin is dead. Does Jack ever feel as if the ‘wrong’ person got the majority of consciousness? Does he feel as if Martin would make less of a mess of things if he had more control than Jack does?

 

This is so tricky! As I mentioned yesterday at Divine Magazine, Jack’s a sociopath in his own right. Born in the UK, he’s made through Cutter’s enforced social climate, where Cutter ensures Jack carries on loving being cut during sex, but then he also denies Jack that cutting high in order for Jack to live in all that regional… instability and chaos that Cutter loves driving. When we first meet Jack, Jack is Cutter’s late-teenage gang leader, handling stolen goods, carjacking, dealing drugs, and later domestic terrorism with arms deals. In order to survive in a psychopath playing field when his world falls apart, Jack then “walks” into Martin, giving Jack a secondary personality that has all the tools to survive in the psychopath playing field that surrounds them. Martin is a psychopath in his own right, and he comes with one hell of a full love of “born this way, baby” innateness. Yes, they’re very much like twins or brothers, with that love-hate relationship, but they differ so much with how both are also no more than passing strangers in the night, ones who only have notes and lovers’ reactions to gauge just what they’ve both been up to. Where ignorance is bliss, can you really miss what you don’t know?

 

Is there guilt there, though? That Martin could cope better with more control?

 

Here, Jack’s come through dark situations on the back of Martin’s need to protect them. Jack needs him around even if he can’t see it. But on the flip side of only having notes and people’s reactions to gauge just what Martin does, Jack also sees that Martin perhaps wouldn’t survive without him too. There’s the likes of a knife wound on one of his lover’s hips from just how dark Martin is. So, yes, Martin survives chaos by dealing in chaos, but Jack’s life isn’t always chaos. In calm quarters, Martin would no less survive any better than Jack if Jack stepped into Martin’s chaos.

 

Martin’s built like any violent chemical reaction: born to get vicious, but like most chemical reactions, they only burn for so long before it hits a wall and burns out. So as much as Jack needs Martin’s aggression and game play to get through life, Martin also needs Jack’s coolant to try and balance them out. I think Jack would feel more guilt if that reaction failed and someone got hurt more because of it. But if Jack will ever come to see that, that they both have a right to co-exist, it remains the ultimate question for DID sufferers in general! But it is also something the series finale goes head to head with, for better or worse.

 

Author T.s. McKinney: I want to know how you're going to handle the fact that I love Jack and Martin. From where I’m sitting, my heart is going to be broken one way or another...

There’s a twist coming, T.s., and you have my word, you’ll fall in love again, in all new different ways. I promise. Might take a while, but Jack… he always gets there in the end. And Jack wouldn’t be who he is without Martin. But you never know, maybe there’s room for just… one… more?

 

Vicky. What the hell does Jack read in his stolen newspapers off Craig? Martin too LOL

Jack’s a mechanic, he’s after the car sales section. Martin… he just goes true pig-in-a-blanket style: wrapping someone up in it and seeing how long they squeal after he sets it on fire! That and burning the car sales section before Jack gets at it.

 

Michelle Booklover Simm: Would Jan be able to cope with Martin if there was no Gray or anybody?

I think Jan knows Martin needs Gray there to survive. He’d work his soul out to keep them all together, no matter how much Martin could kick against it and want to drive Gray into a joint psychopath grave. With Jan, there’s just too much fight in him lately to dwell on Gray not being there. It’s not an option for him.

 

Sue. Is there’s a chance of another book?

Well, after Psychopaths & Sinners, there’s Don’t 6: Fractured, where we see just how far Gray is falling, and where that leaves Jan, Jack, and Martin. It also brings in Gray’s son, and just how everything spirals as he gets caught up in his dad’s world. This one is already with the publisher, but is marked as the last novel in the series. But I think the Don’t lads have earned a rest. They’ve worked so hard for some peace. Just might take a while to get there!

 

Thank you for staying with me on this tour, and thanks again to MM Midnight Café for hosting on me on my final day! It’s been an awesome tour!

 

 

Giveaway

 

For a chance to win a copy of Psychopaths & Sinners, please enter the Rafflecopter!

 

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Author Bio

 

Jack L. Pyke blames her dark writing influences on living close to one of England’s finest forests. Having grown up hearing a history of kidnappings, murders, strange sightings, and sexual exploits her neck of the woods is renowned for, Jack takes that into her writing, having also learned that human coping strategies for intense situations can sometimes make the best of people have disastrously bad moments. Redeeming those flaws is Jack’s drive, and if that drive just happens to lead to sexual tension between two or more guys, Jack’s the first to let nature take its course.

 

 

Website & Social Media links

 

Amazon UK: 

 

 

 

Title: Sinister Hunger

Series: Blood Stream

Author: Katz Snow

Publisher: Self Published

length: 212

Genre: Paranormal, Vampire, Dark, Hunter, Romance

 

 

 

Buy Links

 

Amazon UK

 

Amazon US

 

 

Blurb

 

A world of intrigue. A life of lies. A future of sacrifice. 

 

Vincent Hudson is a vampire hunter, and his life is about to be ruined. 

 

When a hunting trip ends in tragedy, he is forced to do the unthinkable—seek refuge in Sanctuary Hope, where each family must nominate a member to the city council. But there is a catch.

 

In exchange for refuge, the nominees are turned into bloodslaves for an elite chain of vampires, and unaware of the gut-wrenching reality, Vincent nominates himself. He only wanted to save his group.

 

Now, a life of captivity and war await him. 

 

 

Review

 

*****

OMG.

 

I loved Dark Silence so knew I had to give this one a go. Paranormal isn't my usual go to but I do love Vampires. I make an exception for Vampires and Maddox Well he certainly is a powerful Vampire. He was dark and certainly knew how to punish Vincent.

 

I'm not gonna go into what the books about but this is definitely a must read. Vincent goes through hell and not at the hands of who you think either.

 

I wouldn't really say this is as dark as I thought but then again after reading Dark Silence I think i'm immune to dark reads and they just seem lighter to me now.

 

It is a great read..I read some reviews about the beginning and taking time and not wanting to read about the fighting. Well a book has to have a start and It doesn't take you that long to get to the darker stuff but the beginning was definitely not boring and was definitely needed.

 

I can't wait for book 2....I don't do cliffhangers...I hate them...But I was committed before I found out it was...But again I will wait for the next book and I think that one is going to be oh so good x

 

 

Author

 

After leaving school and renting a crummy flat at sixteen, Katze Snow now lives in Scotland with her wolf-dog and kitty. When she’s not writing or listening to music, she works for a top-secret, underground organization, but sshhh, it’s a secret. She finally published her debut novel in 2016. 

 

If you’d like to join her mailing list for EXCLUSIVE FREEBIES, and be kept updated on her books, you can do so here: www.katzesnow.com/contact

 

 

Published By: eXtasy Books

Author: Meraki P. Lyhne

ISBN: 978-1-4874-1957-8

Page: 185

Word Count: 55002

Publication Date: May 18, 2018

Series: Ore 5 #1

Cover art by Angela Waters

 

 

Buy Link

 

 Extasy Books

 

 

Blurb

 

Straight out of college, Ethan scored a coveted job on the mining planet Ore 5. So how the hell did he ended up working in a strip club?

 

What should have been the start of a life with lots of money, a prestigious job, and adventures in space, quickly turned sour as the promised job got downsized while Ethan was in route to Ore 5. Now there, he doesn’t even have enough money for the return ticket to Earth.

 

Stuck in the outskirts of the housing for the miners, he quickly finds that his usual standards are impossible to uphold. A new coworker opens up a new world to him, and in this world, the center of gravity is a big tattooed strip club owner named Ryder.

 

On the outside, Ryder is a player—promiscuous and superficial. And he has no problem throwing a punch if patrons get too frisky with his dancers. But he has hidden a side of himself since he came to Ore 5.

 

Both Ethan and Ryder see themselves differently from what others see. One is a body-conscious, chubby accountant—the other is a sex-symbol who has become the center of attention of every gay man on the planet—even a few straight ones who want to prove they are man enough to win the challenge.

 

They have one thing in common, but will their differences keep them too far apart?

 

 

Excerpt:

 

 

“Guards! Get the fuck off the stage!” DJ’s voice boomed in the huge room, and Ryder pushed his way through the patrons crowding the stage while scouting for the green shirts of his guards. One got there before he did, yanking a drunk Worm off the edge of the stage. The guy had some size from the hard labor as a miner, so Ryder continued through to assist his guard in getting the man away from the dancer, who looked absolutely pissed.

 

“This is bullshit!” the patron bellowed, still clinging on to his beer and spilling it on himself, the guard, and all over Ryder as he caught the flailing arm.

 

“Please make room!” the guard bellowed, and people stepped back for Ryder and the guard to pull the patron through to the front doors. They tossed him out of it, and he rolled around, swearing drunkenly.

 

“Stay away for a week!” Ryder sneered.

 

“You can’t do that.”

 

“This is my place. I set the rules, and now you stay away for two weeks.” Ryder tried to keep his voice level, but he knew by now that the amount of alcohol the patron had consumed combined with a fat throbbing dick could get any man in trouble.

 

A guard came out and moved to whisper something to Ryder. “He bruised the dancer. He’s off stage for tonight.”

“How bruised?”

 

“It was an accidental head butt, but he grabbed a nut that’s now sore.”

 

It was one thing for an idiot to think he should dance along on stage, another was groping, and Ryder’s temper went from irritated to piss-boiling angry in a split second. He stepped forward and swung a fist, colliding with the man’s cheekbone, sending him sprawling. The guy stayed down and unconscious, finally letting go of the beer which broke on the street.

 

“Don’t ever grope my dancers!” Ryder bellowed and turned to look at the people still waiting in line, hoping to get in. “I can deal with a lot of shit, but never, ever grope my staff!”

 

 

 

Links

 

Stay updated: https://merakiplyhne.com/wip-status/

 

 

More books by Meraki P. Lyhne

 

https://www.amazon.com/Meraki-P.-Lyhne/e/B01LXNOFAG

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14588017.Meraki_P_Lyhne

 

 

 
RELEASE BLITZ
 
 
Book Title: No Luck
 
Author: Kayleigh Sky
 
Publisher: Kiss Drunk Books
 
Cover Artist: Kayleigh Sky
 
Genre/s: Contemporary / Suspense
 
Length: 109,200 words/508 pages
 
 
It is a standalone story.
 
 



Blurb


Careful what you wish for…

Close to landing a role in a sitcom he hopes will show his father he isn’t a failure, Vane Riley loses everything when his boyfriend dumps him and his father dies. With nowhere to turn, he heads home to regroup and help his sister, Rose, keep the family diner afloat. Trying to ease his grief with a guy in a bar seems like a good idea until the guy can’t get rid of him fast enough. The last thing Vane expects is for his one-night stand to appear at his dad’s funeral with a quirky tarot reader on his arm and a romantic history with Rose.

Doug Moore is a widower who isn’t ready to move on, but he can’t seem to get the clumsy guy he met the night before out of his thoughts. After helping Vane get back into the car he somehow locked himself out of, Doug figured he’d never see him again and can’t believe his lousy luck when Rose’s loser brother turns out to be the hookup he can’t stop thinking about. Doug is determined to keep his distance, but when Rose hires him to renovate the family home Vane is now living in, there’s not much chance of that happening.

Though Doug wants nothing more than to resist him, Vane ticks all his boxes. Clumsy, needy, sexy and… Oh yeah. Paranoid. Not for a minute does Doug believe somebody is out to hurt Vane despite the strange accidents that have befallen him since returning home, but Vane is sure somebody wants him dead.

Doug is solid and steady. Vane is emotional and imaginative. Nobody’s trying to kill him. Doug is sure of it…

At first.

 
 
 
Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited
 
 
 
 
Excerpt
 
The interior was dark, lit mostly by the glow of the TV.
 
Doug was pretty sure the guy at the table beside him was sound asleep. The dreariness of the place hit him out of the blue, and he had a feeling he was just punishing himself by staying. There were other places he could be, even sitting in a movie theater with Dorcas if he’d thought about it. But that ball of energy in his chest had brought him here.
 
He let his chair tip down just as the entrance door swung open and somebody in jeans and a jacket with a hoodie underneath stepped inand promptly tripped. After he righted himself, the guy fixed what had to be a glare at the raised section of weather stripping across the threshold.
 
Doug lifted his mug, laughing into it before he took a drink.
 
The newcomer headed to the bar and stood at the corner until the owner finished with another customer and turned to him. Doug couldn’t see the guy’s face in the shadows, but he heard the owner say, “Yeah?” in a surprised tone and a few words in return. “Real quick… couple miles.”
 
Doug doubted the owner responded to whatever the guy was talking about. A useful reply would need more than the “You gonna buy somethin’?” he came up with.
 
Doug finished his beer and kept his eye on them. Maybe the owner made the guy nervous because the money he dug out of his pocket flew everywhere but on the counter.
 
“Shoot.”
 
The almost curse rang loud and clear. Doug grinned as the guy chased the rolling coins, picked up a couple, turned around, and bent over again.
 
Nice. Cute little bottom in those worn-out jeans.
 
Doug watched him step back to the corner of the bar and count his coins. The owner shook his head. Doug sighed, guessing the guy didn’t have enough money and the owner wouldn’t cut him any slack. What an asshole. Doug wasn’t coming to this place anymore. It had always been sketchy, but now it was a dreary, low-class dump.
 
He stood and strode to the bar. “Another one. For him too.”
 
The guy raised his head from his pile of money, and Doug got his first good look at his face. He startled. “Jesus, are you okay?”
 
The guy frowned, looking cute as hell as he tried to figure out Doug’s question.
 
Doug pointed at his own cheek. The poor light hid a lot, but he thought the guy blushed. And then he… giggled. A real-live giggle. Doug couldn’t help but laugh. Of all the weird things. Though from the twitches running through the guy, his giggle was clearly a result of his nerves. Doug liked that. Meg had been shy too.
 
“Kick-boxing.”
 
The words took a moment to register. Doug lifted the beer the bartender set down and motioned with his chin at the other one. The guy picked it up, nodded, and took a swallow. His sigh sounded happy.
 
“I didn’t think kicking people in the face was allowed,” Doug said. He didn’t for a minute believe the guy had gotten his bruises in a kickboxing match.
 
“Well, it was an accident. I’m kind of clumsy.”
 
No kidding. “Glad I have no interest in contact sports.” No, Doug was a baseball kind of guy and lazy about working out. His job was physical, and he put muscle on without even trying.
 
“I quit,” the guy said.
 
“Better part of valor,” Doug murmured.
 
A slow smile lit the guy’s face. “Caution is preferable to rash bravery,” he added to the quote. “You’re a Shakespeare fan.”
Doug hid his surprise with a nod. The guy was beautiful and charming and familiar, but Doug drew a blank trying to figure out where he’d seen him before. “Are you from around here?”
 
That changed things. The smile flattened, and the guy pulled back.
 
“Just visiting. My car broke down. Well, not actually broke down. I got out and dropped my keys.” He gave a blustery-sounding laugh. “Now I’m locked out.”
 
“I can jimmy it.”
 
The guy stared at him with his mouth half open. The pink of his tongue showed. Damn. Heat built between Doug’s legs. He shifted on his stool as his lust bloomed, a sensation he’d almost forgotten about. He hooked up with willing partners to expend some energy, but to be honest, attraction wasn’t usually a big part of it.
 
“Are you a car thief?” the guy asked, shrugging his jacket off.
 
“Right.”
 
The smile came back. “Just checking.”
 
The guy shifted to the stool between them and his hair swung, the dark ends brushing the tops of his shoulders. He tucked it behind his ears, then pushed up the sleeves of his hoodie. He had holes in his lobes but no earrings, and a tattoo of a sun done in black ink decorated the inside of a wrist.
 
Doug rocked forward, feeling the pressure on his balls, and set his elbow on the counter. “Drink up. I’ll take you to your car.”
The guy nodded. “That’d be great. I was going to call someone, but my phone’s broken.”
 
Of course it was. This guy screamed total disaster. “What’s your name?”
 
A whisper of a hesitation preceded his smile. “Ethan.”
 
Ethan. A nice name, but it wasn’t his. Or maybe it was his middle name. Interesting. Doug wasn’t afraid of him and didn’t think he was a psycho serial killer or anything. When it came down to it though, he probably couldn’t pick a serial killer out of a crowd to save his life. But this guy looked friendly, a little nervous, and a lot needy.
 
The perfect storm for Doug. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Doug.”
 
Warm fingers gripped his, and a jolt like a zap from a live wire shot up his arm and down his spine. Ethan’s mouth opened again, a slight part, the pink of his tongue a glimmer inside. “Nice to meet you, Doug.”
 
“You too.”
 
He wanted to do more than meet him though. He wanted to plant himself inside him. Ethan’s eyes widened as Doug stared at him, his pupils stretching to the edges of his irises. He flicked his lip with his tongue, picked up his beer, and chugged it.
 
“Want another?” Doug asked.
 
Ethan set his mug down. “Sure.”
 
Doug raised two fingers. “So whadda you do?”
 
“Write. I’m a writer.”
 
“Oh yeah?”
 
“Well, wannabe. I don’t have anything out, yet.”
 
“You will if you keep at it. That’s impressive. I have a tough time writing a two-page proposal.”
 
“What kind of proposal?”
 
“Job proposals. I own a construction company. We do mostly renos and additions.”
 
“Oh, that’s cool. Like the Property Brothers.”
 
Without the brother. Or the money. Or the fame. Doug nodded and pressed his lips into a smile. “Exactly.”
 
Ethan grinned. “I love those shows. I can barely use a hammer.”
 
“Somehow I think your thumbs thank you for not trying.”
 
Ethan gaped. Then he inhaled as though to speak but laughed first instead. “Okay. Okay. That’s probably true.”
 
His hand rested on the counter, and Doug wanted to touch it. The fingers lay flat, long, and slender. The thumb twitched, and Ethan curled it under his palm.
 
He was elegant and clumsy. And interested in Doug. Heat glowed in his eyes.
 
Doug pointed a finger at the beer. “Finish up. Let’s get out of here.”
 
Ethan swallowed. “Yeah. Okay.”
 
After he drank the rest of his beer and tugged his coat on, Doug gestured to the back door. “This way.”
 
They went down a short hall to a door painted the same black as the walls. Doug opened it and looked back. A hesitant smile greeted him and a flutter of panic stirred in Doug’s belly. Too sweet.
 
He knew with perfect certainty he should bail and also that he wasn’t going to.

 

About the Author 


Kayleigh Sky is an m/m romance writer of complex stories of love and redemption that always end in happily ever after. Love matters, and everyone counts.

Peace.

 
 
 
Social Media Links
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Giveaway 
 
Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card.
 
 
 
 
RELEASE BLITZ SCHEDULE
 
 
 
 
 

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK
Length: 52,000 words approx.
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
Harrisburg Railers Series
Book #1 - Changing Lines - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #2 - First Season - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #3 - Deep Edge - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #4 - Poke Check - Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
 
Blurb



Every time Max Van Hellren steps on the ice he knows it could be his last time. At thirty he’s past his hockey prime but he’s also hiding a life-threatening injury that private doctors warn could kill him. This is his last season, and there’s a chance he could lift the Stanley Cup after fourteen years in the NHL. He just needs to stay safe and healthy; difficult when he’s known for his heavy hitting and with a propensity for dropping the gloves and putting his body in the way of pucks to keep his team safe.

A one night stand with a sexy man was just what he needed, dangerous and hot, but what if it turned into more? Would he actually have to share the secrets he so desperately tries to hide?

Ben Worthington had it all. A fulfilling job running the CrossRoads Shelter, his loving aunts, and a husband that understood his devotion to animals. Then, the love of his life left him, succumbing so quickly to an unexpected sickness that Ben never had time to say goodbye. The violent loss scarred him.

Unable to move past his fears, he moves from lonely encounter to lonely encounter, slaking a desperate need that is eating away at him, but never making a connection that could lead him back into love. One night with Max makes him want more, but will giving into the temptation open the door to feelings he can’t contain?

Can these two broken men ever find a way to be together?


 

 

 

 

Review

 

****

 

I am new to the series, having been a fan of R J Scott and seen the positive vibes the series gets, I had to take a chance and review this book.

 

Though this is the 5th book in the series, I could read and relate to the story even the characters that are from the previous books.

 

The book is full of great and vivid characters, each has a fully thought out personality.  You know which character is speaking without even seeing his name.

 

I found the Hockey scenes were full of energy and excitements.  The two Meddling Aunt’s who live next door to Ben, gave me a few giggles, and you want to hug them.

 

I liked the inclusion of Ben’s nephew in the story.  It is always nice to see a bit of the characters family.

 

The love between Max a retiring Hockey player and Ben a struggling owner of an animal rescue center, is strong and you feel like they could face any problem and come out the other side stronger than ever.

 

You get the feeling that they find in each other the missing parts of their lives.

 

Such a well written novel by RJ Scott &  VL Locey.  I will be catching up with the other books very soon.

 



Excerpt

“Nice dog.” I paused just this side of the players’ entrance at the deep voice coming from behind me. There was something about that man’s voice…the timbre of the bass or the way he spoke. Not sure what it was, but the last time he’d spoken to me my body had had the same kind of reaction. A spear of latent heat low in my belly followed by a shiv of icy dread.

“Thanks.” I wanted to stare at the door. Or run. I couldn’t do either of those, though, so I turned to face the bearded man. Christ, but he was fierce-looking. Like a Viking, with piercing eyes and an aura that screamed berserker. He was bigger than me. Taller by at least four inches and probably sixty pounds. He was wearing a suit, as Stan and Erik had been, but his looked incredibly fine on his burly frame. Dark blue with a silver tie and a white shirt. His biceps strained the material trying to contain them.

“His name is Bucky.” There now, I had spoken to the man who made my heart leap around inside my chest like a frog on a highway.

“Like Captain America’s sidekick?” He looked down at my worn T-shirt with Cap’s shield on it.

“Exactly like that.”

He took another step, which put him into my little personal space bubble, his gaze and mine locked. I wet my lips and jerked my chin up a bit. I wasn’t going to let some hockey player intimidate me.

“Cute dog. Hot owner.” He gave me a long, slow look, petted Bucky, and stepped around the dull-witted man trying to digest the fact Mr. Fear had said he was hot. “Are you coming in, or are you teaching your dog to open doors mentally?”

“I’m here to see Layton Foxx.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m here to participate in morning skate.”

“I know who you are. Max van Hellren. You played for Washington four years ago.”

He tugged the door open and settled a kind of bored look on me. “Yeah, that was me. You like Washington?”

“Hometown team.” Bucky barked to back me up. Max smiled. All the ferocity that oozed out of him dissipated when he smiled. The man was seriously fine.

“Maybe I can change your mind about which team to cheer for, Mr. Washington Fan.”

“Ben. My name is Ben.”

He nodded just once, his hand still keeping the door open. “Ben. I like that. Suits you. So, are we coming in or are we going to flirt here in front of Pete?”

A security guard peeked around the door and winked at me. I wanted to die. Right there.

“I don’t flirt,” I snapped. I stalked around Max and Pete and went off to find Layton Foxx. Determination hot in my breast kept me from looking back to see if Max was checking out my ass. I hoped he was and I prayed he wasn’t.

 

 

 
 

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.


 
 
 
 
 
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, Dr. Who, Torchwood, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, two Jersey steers and a flock of assorted domestic fowl.

When not writing lusty tales, she can be found enjoying her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.



 
 
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Love of the Egoist by Nero Seal

 

 

 

 

 

►►BOOK INFO◄◄

 

Title: Love of the Egoist Series: Egoist #1
Author: Nero Seal
Editor: Elizabeth Peters
Cover Design: Sublime Novels
Genre: Dark M/M Romance, Enemies2Lovers, Psychological Thriller, Contemporary
 
 
 special-release-price - Love of the Egoist

 

 

►►BLURB◄◄

 

“I wanted to play with you… punish you. But now, I want to ruin your world and turn it pitch black. Isolate you so you don’t have anything left except me.

And remember, it’s your own fault.”

* * *

Isolation. Loneliness. Endless silence stretching into eternity.

This is the personal living hell of police detective, Kuon Leiris.

His punishment for ruining the Black Duke’s deal.

But when nights come, it gets worse…

Cruelty. Care. Brutality. Affection.

Constant mind games where he can do nothing, but give in.

Yugo pours his every corrupt desire into his prey, testing the limits of their twisted relationship.

Do you dare enter a dark world where safe-words don’t exist?

 

 

 

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►►EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT◄◄

 

 

His foot stepped on the thick blue rubber, dipping under his weight.  A strong smell of sweat hit his nose, and he stepped back leaning on the doorframe.

 

Two wild animals, curling their backs in graceful poses, circled the room, inch by inch reducing the distance between them with every second. Their unblinking gazes locked together, muscles tensed and pumped with blood. Thick blue veins popped up under their sweaty skin.

 

Reflections danced in the kaleidoscope of surrounding mirrors, repeating their every move. The sunset painted a part of the blue rubber flooring in dirty orange, and the light streaming in from the panoramic window, coated their bodies in a warm golden glow. Several white towels lay about the gym.

 

The smaller man launched forward with a combo of fast strikes to his opponent’s torso, aiming for his solar plexus, liver, and floating ribs. His low kick tried to reach the back of Greg’s knee.

 

Greg shifted, evading the kick. His hands moved with enormous speed for someone of his size, repelling the attack. With a stony expression, he went for a counterblow. His heavy forearm aimed for the middle of Kuon’s biceps, seeking his pain point, trying to paralyze Kuon’s arm. Kuon raised his hand in a block. Greg’s assault skid along Kuon’s toned muscles toward his shoulder, without doing any serious damage. Kuon had to step back.

The strikes, reaching the skin, left red, swollen marks on half-naked bodies. Sweat trickled down Kuon’s spine, painting the denim fabric on his waist deep blue. Yugo saw his stomach slightly rising in a controlled breath. His eyes, glutted with attention, glued to Greg’s.

 

One part in Yugo wanted to demand an explanation, but curiosity took over. He wanted to see Kuon in action, wanted to see this beautiful body in the heat of combat, radiating threat. His arms crossed his chest.

 

Kuon changed his guard, raising his arms higher, protecting his throat where Greg had been aiming in his last lash, then adjusted the distance. His attack strategy altered to a series of high and low kicks. But his opponent had the reputation of one of the best fighters in Yugo’s milieu. He shifted left. Yugo jerked when a powerful kick hit the lower segment of Kuon’s left lung, throwing the detective back to the mirrored wall. Kuon gripped his middle and collapsed on his knees; his body shaking with a suffocating coughing.

 

Blood left Yugo’s face. He inched forward wanting to interrupt, but Greg approached Kuon first and outstretched his open hand. The smile playing on his brutish face was an unknown expression for Yugo. Kuon, gasping for air, returned the cheerful smile and put his own hand in Greg’s.

 

“You are opening your torso too much. Keep your elbows lower. My attack forced you to protect your throat, leaving your body unshielded. Keep your focus on my middle, don’t look in my eyes, don’t look for my movements. You are trying to predict them. Don’t. Let your instincts take over. Look for openings, opportunities. Leave your reflex for defense; use your brain for an attack. Wanna try again?” The bulky man pulled Kuon upright. In a second, the detective stood on his feet touching Greg’s shoulder with his bare chest.

 

Blood rushed in Yugo’s head, hazing his vision with a heavy veil of jealousy and anger. Drums pounded in his ears and in his throat, echoing in his fingertips when he stepped forward. He didn’t see two fighting studs anymore. He saw one stud wooing his bitch.

 

 

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18 eBooks by 11 Dark Authors + 2 $10 Amazon Gift Cards are up for grabs. Don't miss.

 

2 x $10 Amazon Gift cards

Kindle direct eBook copies of:

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►►AUTHOR BIO◄◄

 

Journalist, poker player, casino events manager, designer, and SEO specialist, Nero Seal tried it all before committing to the idea of being an M/M fiction writer. Living in one of the most homophobic countries in the world, he has a lot to say. Being an avid traveler, he creates his imaginary worlds from the places he’s been and the people he’s met. Characters are always talking in his head, forcing him to write their stories, using his 49 kinks as the ultimate weapon of alluring. When the voices in his head aren’t slaving him around, he is drawing, hiking, and procrastinating important things in favor of momentary gratification.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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    I-Scream-teaser review for Love of the Egoist    

 Rip Cord: The Complete Trilogy
 
Book Title: Rip Cord: The Complete Trilogy
Author: Jeanne St. James
Publisher: Self Published
Cover Artist: EmCat Designs
Genre/s: Contemporary Romance, MM Sports Romance
Length: 198 paperback pages 
 
Buy Links 
 
Ebook
 
 
 
Paperback



Blurb



The Reunion

Gil Davis hated high school. Ever the geek, he has no intentions of attending his 10th year class reunion. The last thing he wants is to relive the taunting and teasing he received during his teenage years. However, there is one thing he misses from high school: the star Varsity football player. The one he had a crush on from the first day he laid eyes on him. But the last thing he expects is the now pro football player to come back to their hometown to attend a lame high school reunion. Known as the Bad Boy of the NFL, Ripley “Rip” Cord, not only shows up, but shows up without a date and an eye for Gil.

The Weekend

Geek Gil Davis hasn’t heard a word from NFL player, Rip Cord, since hooking up at their class reunion. Then Rip calls him unexpectedly, he’s taking Gil to his cabin for a weekend of erotic exploration.

The Ever After

When Rip Cordis kicked out of the NFL, he shows up unexpectedly at Gil Davis’ front door. With his career over, Rip’s finally ready for a future with Gil, if Gil’s willing to give him another chance.


Excerpt



Ripley “Rip” Cord was just as tall as Gil remembered. Around five inches taller than him, not that Gil was a squirt. The football player was at least six foot two.

And every inch of him was muscle. Not lean muscle, but heavy muscle. Heavy, rounded, lickable muscle.

Gil glanced at Katie. “You’re drooling.”

Katie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “As if you aren’t.”

Gil snagged her wrist and backpedaled until he rammed into something hard. It was the table with the place settings.

Gil peered over Katie’s shoulder to see if his klutziness had caught Rip’s attention.

Luckily it hadn’t. The man was completely surrounded by their old classmates clamoring for his attention.

Throughout the years, he’d followed Rip’s career in the newspapers, on the evening news, on ESPN.

And in the tabloids.

Rip was well-known. Unfortunately it was as the “bad boy” of the National Football League. He started out with a great career in the NFL, drafted straight out of college. He was one of the best wide receivers in the league, but it was all his rumored problems that kept him in the spotlight, not his stats.

And that famous wide receiver was here. Now.

“C’mon, Katie! Don’t stare.”

“Why?”

“Because—”

“Jesus, Gilly, because you have a crush on him!”

Heat crawled up Gil’s neck. He was glad the lights were turned down in the gymnasium. He didn’t want anyone seeing him blush.

Hell, he was twenty-eight years old. He shouldn’t be blushing. He felt seventeen all over again.

He pulled away from Katie to study the name cards remaining on the table. Of course, he read the same card over and over before Katie squealed.

“Oh. My. God.Here he comes!”

Gil nervously tugged Katie next to his side and threw an arm haphazardly around her shoulders.

“Ouch,” she yelped as her curly red hair got caught on the button of his cuff.

“Sorry,” he whispered and straightened up just as Rip arrived at the table.

Gil swore he saw spots. He was not going to faint. He was not going to faint.

His knees buckled, and he grabbed for the nearest solid thing: Rip.

Rip grasped his forearm and held Gil steady. “You all right, buddy?”

Gil looked up—and up—into deep blue eyes. Eyes he had never forgotten. To this day they haunted his dreams.

Dreams he usually woke up from with a raging hard-on.

Gil opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Rip smacked him hard on the back.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Gil nodded.

“Did you find your name card yet?” Rip asked, flashing him a bright, white smile.

Gil shook his head.

Rip moved closer, almost hip to hip with Gil, to study the table of white folded cardstock. Gil fought the urge to lean in and nuzzle the larger man's neck, inhaling his manly scent. Roll around in it like a dog.

Hell, he'd probably end up sporting a black eye if he tried.




About the Author

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling romance author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here.

To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.comor sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
Author Links
BOOK BLAST SCHEDULE

 

 

Title: The Little Things

Author: Jay Northcote

Publisher: Jaybird Press (self published).

Previously published by Dreamspinner Press

Length: 75,000 words approx

Genre: contemporary gay romance

Cover Artist: Garrett Leigh

Release Date: Nov 21st 2013.

This edition May 2018

Series info: This book is a standalone

 

 

 Buy Links

 

Amazon Uk   Amazon Us

 

 

 

 

 

Blurb

 

Sometimes it’s the little things in life that make you appreciate what you have

 

There are lots of things that brighten Joel’s life. His three-year-old daughter Evie is one. His close relationship with her mother, his best friend from university, is another. Joel’s boyfriend, Dan, adds spice to his child-free nights, and Joel is pretty happy with how things are.

 

One cold and rainy night, everything changes. Joel’s life is turned upside-down when he becomes a full-time dad to Evie, and his previously carefree relationship with Dan cracks under the strain

 

 

Meeting Liam, who acts as if getting hurt isn’t a foregone conclusion, shakes Joel to the core. Their attraction is mutual, and Liam makes no secret of how serious he is about Joel. But Joel is wary. He tells himself he’s keeping Liam at a distance for Evie’s sake, when really he’s protecting his own heart. Taking a chance on this new relationship with Liam may seem a small step—a little thing—but is it one Joel can take after losing so much already?

 

 

 

Author Bio

 

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.

 

Links

 

 

Website 

Twitter

Facebook profile 

Facebook author page 

Facebook author group 

Newsletter 

Jay’s booksJay’s books 

 

 

 

 

Title: Exploration
Series: Kinky In The City
Author: Quinn Ward
Length: 65,000 words approx.
Cover Design: Marisa @ Cover Me Darling
Blurb

The reluctant manager of his family’s restaurant, Frankie attempts to live up to the legacy of his father and grandfather. Running a business that isn't his passion and trying to do it without asking for help leaves him turning to less-than-legal means when he wants to surrender control.


Newly divorced, Calvin no longer lives in the closet, leaving him searching for what he most desires- control. So when he finds Frankie on his knees in the back room of a local bar, Calvin sees the sub he’s only ever fantasized about having.

Can Calvin find the confidence to explore his dominant side while showing his younger roommate that submission isn't only about whips and pain?
 
 
 Review
 
*****
 
 

Looking at other reviews for this book, I think people sometimes do not fully realize that BDSM lifestyle does not always revolve around dungeons, special clubs, spankings and whippings.  This book is not about the hard stuff. 

The book to me delivers what it promises, A young Man (Frankie’s) first steps into a D/s relationship.   The book explores how Frankie misunderstands what such a relationship means, and how there are no set rules, other than what has been agreed with the Dom and Sub.

 

Frankie has a hard time running his family Italian restaurant, and all the responsibilities and worries that entails.  He yearns to let go of control, so he has been picking up tricks at the local bar and letting them control even if its for a very short time.

 

Calvin is Frankie’s roommate, and a Dom.  He is shocked to find Frankie on his knees giving blow jobs to random men at the club.

 

Calvin can not at first understand why Frankie is doing such things, he knows Frankie does not need the money.   Deep down Calvin’s Dom side knows why Frankie is giving Blow Jobs at the club.  He wants to give up control.  This excites Calvin.

 

They slowly form a D/s relationship, which helps Frankie give up some of the control, even at the restaurant, allowing his brothers to take on more responsibilities.

 

I love Frankie’s cheeky brat personality, and Calvin’s dominant and protective personality.  Frankie slowly learns that if things go wrong, he needs to tell Calvin and allow Calvin to help him find solutions rather than bottle things up and let them fester or react rash.

 

I also like the way Calvin’s son accepts Frankie into his family, even if Frankie is around the same age.  I think the food Frankie brings home from the restaurant may have helped with that lol.

 

All in all, I thought the story flowed nicely, and felt real.  I like the author’s style of writing and loved the characters.  I am so hoping that we get to see these two characters developing their D/s relationship.

 

 

 

 

Quinn writes LGBTQ romance with a kick. Their stories center around the relationship building between the characters, but also shows how compatible they are in the bedroom (or wherever else 

 

the urge strikes).
 
 
 
Author Web Links

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Authors: Riley Heart, Devon Mccormack

Published: by Devon Mccormack

Pages: 241

 

Blurb

 

"The world’s an awfully big thing to carry by yourself." 

 

Zack lost his job, his apartment, and his hope, which is why he ends up on the roof of a high rise, certain that one final step will solve his problems. But a mysterious stranger named Rob happens to be on the roof that night too. He talks Zack down, convincing him there's still hope left in the world. Zack thinks maybe he's right, which is why he's shocked when he turns on the news the next morning to find out Rob jumped himself. Disturbed and confused, he searches for answers, starting with Rob’s brother Tommy Rayburn. 

 

It’s been Tommy’s job to take care of his brother since they were kids, taking the blows from their father so Rob wouldn’t have to. Tommy thought he could protect him, even if it meant carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Considering Rob threw himself off a building, he obviously couldn't. 

 

Then he meets Zack, a friend of Rob’s who’s suspiciously evasive about how they knew each other. But they’re both grieving and determined to find out why Rob jumped. Answers don’t come easily, and soon they’re soothing each other with sweat-slicked, passionate encounters. Hot as things get in the bedroom, it doesn’t take them long to realize there’s more between them than mind-blowing sex and their pain. But the heaviness is still there, threatening to pull them under, and if they can’t open up with each other to lighten the load, the weight just might be enough to crush them both.

 

 

Sue's Quick Review

 

*****

 

Wow....

 

This was a heart wrenching book. It takes you on an emotional rollercoaster along with Zack and Tommy to find out why Rob thought he had to end it all.

 

The way Tommy and Zack get together through trying to find out the reason was so lovingly done. They held onto each other so tightly that you were just waiting for the bad to come.

 

Zack not telling Tommy that he was on the roof that night would only end badly. But Zack is hurting not only for Rob but because he was going to jump too.

 

Tommy wants to carry everything but he can't. Zack wants to take some of that weight.

 

This is the second book by Riley. and the second one that's made me cry.

 

It was beautiful. It was heart-breaking..it was astounding. A book that will break your heart but also show you there's always hope out there...you just have to find it x

 

 

Amazon Com   Amazon Uk   Goodreads

 


 
 
 
 
 



Buy Links:
 

 


Length: 52,000 words approx.

Cover Design: Meredith Russell

Harrisburg Railers Series

 

Book #1 - Changing Lines - Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

Book #2 - First Season - Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

Book #3 - Deep Edge - Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #4 - Poke Check - Amazon US | Amazon UK

 



 


Blurb

 

Two men afraid to feel, have to make choices that could end up breaking down their defenses and leading them back to love.

Every time Max Van Hellren steps on the ice he knows it could be his last time. At thirty he’s past his hockey prime but he’s also hiding a life-threatening injury that private doctors warn could kill him. This is his last season, and there’s a chance he could lift the Stanley Cup after fourteen years in the NHL. He just needs to stay safe and healthy; difficult when he’s known for his heavy hitting and with a propensity for dropping the gloves and putting his body in the way of pucks to keep his team safe.

A one night stand with a sexy man was just what he needed, dangerous and hot, but what if it turned into more? Would he actually have to share the secrets he so desperately tries to hide?

Ben Worthington had it all. A fulfilling job running the CrossRoads Shelter, his loving aunts, and a husband that understood his devotion to animals. Then, the love of his life left him, succumbing so quickly to an unexpected sickness that Ben never had time to say goodbye. The violent loss scarred him.

Unable to move past his fears, he moves from lonely encounter to lonely encounter, slaking a desperate need that is eating away at him, but never making a connection that could lead him back into love. One night with Max makes him want more, but will giving into the temptation open the door to feelings he can’t contain?

Can these two broken men ever find a way to be together?




 


Excerpt

 

“Nice dog.” I paused just this side of the players’ entrance at the deep voice coming from behind me. There was something about that man’s voice…the timbre of the bass or the way he spoke. Not sure what it was, but the last time he’d spoken to me my body had had the same kind of reaction. A spear of latent heat low in my belly followed by a shiv of icy dread.

“Thanks.” I wanted to stare at the door. Or run. I couldn’t do either of those, though, so I turned to face the bearded man. Christ, but he was fierce-looking. Like a Viking, with piercing eyes and an aura that screamed berserker. He was bigger than me. Taller by at least four inches and probably sixty pounds. He was wearing a suit, as Stan and Erik had been, but his looked incredibly fine on his burly frame. Dark blue with a silver tie and a white shirt. His biceps strained the material trying to contain them.

“His name is Bucky.” There now, I had spoken to the man who made my heart leap around inside my chest like a frog on a highway.

“Like Captain America’s sidekick?” He looked down at my worn T-shirt with Cap’s shield on it.

“Exactly like that.”

He took another step, which put him into my little personal space bubble, his gaze and mine locked. I wet my lips and jerked my chin up a bit. I wasn’t going to let some hockey player intimidate me.

“Cute dog. Hot owner.” He gave me a long, slow look, petted Bucky, and stepped around the dull-witted man trying to digest the fact Mr. Fear had said he was hot. “Are you coming in, or are you teaching your dog to open doors mentally?”

“I’m here to see Layton Foxx.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m here to participate in morning skate.”

“I know who you are. Max van Hellren. You played for Washington four years ago.”

He tugged the door open and settled a kind of bored look on me. “Yeah, that was me. You like Washington?”

“Hometown team.” Bucky barked to back me up. Max smiled. All the ferocity that oozed out of him dissipated when he smiled. The man was seriously fine.

“Maybe I can change your mind about which team to cheer for, Mr. Washington Fan.”

“Ben. My name is Ben.”

He nodded just once, his hand still keeping the door open. “Ben. I like that. Suits you. So, are we coming in or are we going to flirt here in front of Pete?”

A security guard peeked around the door and winked at me. I wanted to die. Right there.

“I don’t flirt,” I snapped. I stalked around Max and Pete and went off to find Layton Foxx. Determination hot in my breast kept me from looking back to see if Max was checking out my ass. I hoped he was and I prayed he wasn’t.




 



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.



 



 




V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, Dr. Who, Torchwood, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, two Jersey steers and a flock of assorted domestic fowl.

When not writing lusty tales, she can be found enjoying her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.









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Title:  Adrian's Scar
Author: Martin Delacroix
Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: May 14, 2018
Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 16000
Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, student/teacher, disability, grief
 
 
 

Add to Goodreads

 

  

 
 

Synopsis

 

 

After Kai Olsen’s “perfect lover” dies in a cycling accident, Kai takes a part-time job teaching at a community college to fill his empty evenings. When Kai’s student, Adrian Knox, shows an interest in Kai, their lives quickly change. Adrian is dominated by his controlling mother, Kai can’t stop obsessing over his lost lover, and school policy says faculty members can’t date students. Does love between Kai and Adrian stand a chance?

 

 

Excerpt

 

Adrian’s Scar
Martin Delacroix © 2018
All Rights Reserved
 
 
 
Chapter One
 
I was thirty, and my partner of five years, Christopher, was gone. An octogenarian driving a Sedan Deville ran over Christopher while he trained on his ten-speed bicycle. Christopher died instantly.
 
Some mornings, after the accident happened, I’d wake up and turn over in bed, expecting to find my beautiful Christopher hugging his pillow while sunlight reflected in his dark hair. And then I’d remember.
 
Christopher was a remarkable person, a gourmet cook who competed in triathlons and sewed the drapes hanging in our home. A pediatric hematologist, he treated kids with leukemia and hemophilia. I let him choose my clothes because he knew what matched with what. Like me, Christopher was organized, a true neatnik, and our home sparkled. We kept everything arranged just so, from the living room and kitchen to the closets and attic.
 
Now Christopher was gone, and I knew in my heart that no one could ever replace him.
 
In my bedroom, on the bureau, I created a sort of “Christopher shrine”: framed photographs, his sports medals and trophies, his wristwatch, and the gold necklace I’d given him for his twenty-ninth birthday. He wore the necklace at the time of his death.
 
I framed a letter he wrote me when he attended a medical conference in Montreal, and now the letter sat among the memorabilia. I kept a scented candle on the bureau and often lit it. I’d sit cross-legged on the bed, staring at the display while tears rolled down my cheeks.
 
Oh, Christopher, why did you have to leave me?
 
Evenings were hardest. I’d come home from my law office to an empty house. I had no one to discuss the day’s events with and no one to share a meal with. I took to eating frozen dinners, the kind I could pop into the microwave. I lost fifteen pounds and looked like a scarecrow. I felt lonely as hell and finally decided I should fill my evenings with some kind of activity. But what?
 
My law partner, David Bonner, suggested I try teaching part-time at our community college.
 
“There’s a paralegal program,” David said. “I know the department head, so I can put in a word if you’d like.”
 
Hell, why not?
 
I interviewed with Susan Stouffer, David’s friend, a petite woman in her forties with an easy smile, a strand of pearls, and a cluttered office. Textbooks choked her bookshelves. Her desk was stacked with file folders and legal journals.
 
“This is a four-year program,” she told me, “and our standards are high. I think you’ll find most of our students are bright and earnest. Many are middle-aged, looking to start a second career.”
 
I would teach a course called Introduction to U S Law and the Judicial System.
 
“It’s a survey course,” Susan said. “You’ll give them a taste of each area of substantive law: torts, contracts, family law, constitutional law, and so forth. You’ll also teach them court procedure; you’ll explain the state and federal court systems, and the Florida statutes too.”
 
Class met three nights per week, two hours per session, and the semester lasted four months.
 
“Adjuncts aren’t paid a lot,” Susan said. “You might call it a labor of love.”
 
“It’s fine,” I told her.
 
Susan gave me three different texts, a syllabus, a campus map, and a key to my office. “Visit the personnel department. You’ll need to sign forms and get your parking decal.”
 
The campus was perhaps fifty acres, much of it shaded by live oaks and long leaf pines with trunks as big around as oil barrels. The buildings were contemporary, with lots of glass and cream-colored brick, all connected by concrete walkways winding through swaths of Bahia grass. Classes were not in session that day, so few folks were about.
 
Located in a one-story portable, my office was a cramped space with a desk and a swivel chair, a laminate bookcase, two folding metal chairs, and a telephone. My windows faced west, and afternoon sunlight slanted in through the venetian blinds. The paneled walls were barren, the carpet coffee stained.
 
If Christopher had been present, he would have rubbed his hands together and clucked his tongue. He might’ve said something like, “This place needs livening up: plants, framed posters, and maybe curtains.”
 
How I missed him.
 
A knock sounded on my door, and when I answered, a wiry guy my age with huge brown eyes stood in the hallway, clutching a briefcase. His skin was dark as chocolate, his hair onyx and straight as straw. His pudgy lips were a purple shade. I was six one and probably had half a foot on him. He wore a starched white shirt, khaki pants, and leather slip-ons.
 
“Are you the new adjunct?” he asked.
 
I nodded.
 
He extended a hand. “I’m Kip Patel; I teach legal research and writing full-time.”
 
We shook, and I told him I was Kai Olson.
 
With his thumb, he pointed over his shoulder.
 
“My office is across the hall. Elegant digs they give us, eh?”
 
I grinned and bobbed my chin. His voice had a lilting quality I found appealing.
 
“Do you like it here?” I asked.
 
He nodded. “Very much. This will be my fourth year at the college. After law school, I took a job at a firm; I performed real estate and corporate work.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I worked sixty-hour weeks, and it was boring as hell. This job pays less, of course, but I prefer the academic life.”
 
“I’ve never taught before,” I told Kip.
 
He shrugged while rocking his head from side to side. “It’s not difficult,” he said. “But listen, if I can be of help, you must let me know. We are all friends here.”
 
 

 

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NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

 

 

 

 

 

Meet the Author

 

 

Martin Delacroix is a former journalist and trial attorney. He writes short fiction and novels. His short fiction has appeared in over twenty anthologies and he has written several novels. Martin lives on a barrier island on Florida’s Gulf Coast. When he’s not writing he enjoys beach walks, playing his guitar, gardening, cooking, and distance running. He enjoys good wine and conversation. Find out more about Martin on his Website  

 

 

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Responsible Adult Series 

Book #1 - Misdemeanor - currently 99c

Book #2 - Hard Time  - currently 1.99
Book #3 - Reformed - currently 2.99

 


The Responsible Adult series follows bad boy Micky O’Neill as he attempts to better his life to bring up his disabled little brother. A past full of juvenile delinquency and living in a small town rife with idle gossip means Micky struggles to be seen as anything other than a no-hoper from the wrong side of the tracks... until he takes a job at the local supermarket and meets his boss, Dan, a university graduate and self-proclaimed shy, awkward bookworm.


Dan, older and burned from a past relationship, is the one person who sees through Micky’s tough-guy facade to the true heart underneath. With fear and mistrust on both sides, the two must steer their way through a complicated relationship where outside forces are determined to break them up at every turn.


Responsible Adult is a series about growing up and learning that falling in love always brings responsibility.

 

 

Excerpt from Misdemeanor

“You can join us if you like. Enough to go around.” Dan pointed at all the food and drink.

Micky looked down, licking his lips, but shook his head. He glanced at the play park and Dan followed his line of sight to see the blond bloke by the swings surrounded by a gaggle of girls, one of whom he picked up in a fireman’s carry and proceeded to slap her arse. Micky snorted and turned back to Dan.


“Thanks, but I got Flynn.” He scrunched up his legs, hugging his knees to his chest and hung the glass down over the top.


“Your parents not around then?” Dan asked, voice full of concern.


“Nah,” Micky said with a shrug. “Mum passed away. A while back now. And Dad’s, well, Dad’s not round so much anymore.”


“Workaholic?” Dan asked, almost hopeful.


“Something aholic, yeah,” Micky said. He shuffled his feet on the blanket, bunching it up and flattening it back down. “He’s just not good to be around Flynn.”


“So you take care of him by yourself?” Dan asked.


Micky nodded.


“Wow. That’s…” Dan searched for the word. Three years spent lovingly studying the English language hoping to come into good use this time. “Commendable.”


“Not really,” Micky said, ducking his head. “Any sibling would do it.”


“I don’t know about that, mate,” Dan said. “My big sister can be a right cow. She would’ve left me on a doorstep somewhere.”


Micky chuckled. He didn’t pay Dan much attention, choosing to watch Flynn and Tamsin as she spun him on the seated roundabout. Dan watched them, too, for a bit, before turning back to Micky.


“He’s a character,” Dan acknowledged. “There a reason he’s so small?”


Micky finally turned his attention on Dan. “Yeah,” he replied, voice tiny and tight. He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip several times, dragging away the congealed moisture forming over them. “He’s got a condition. He’s a little behind in years, too.”


“Oh,” Dan said. He might have that etched onto his gravestone. “What’s the condition?”


“Williams syndrome?” Micky replied, then, with a shrug, shook his head. “Don’t worry. No one’s ever heard of it. It’s pretty rare. One in twenty thousand or so.”


“Oh,” Dan said. Again. For fuck’s sake.


“So, yeah, I’m sorry about earlier. I probably snapped at you.” Micky twirled the glass in his hand. “The friendly thing. One of the things he’s lacking is any stranger danger. They’re a bit overly social, if you know what I mean. Susceptible to being taken advantage of. Scares the crap out of me.”


Micky dipped his head, shaking it from side to side. He shuffled again and Dan sensed he was clamming up after having been so forthcoming. Dan didn’t want Micky to stop talking. He was strangely fascinated by him. It wasn’t just that the bloke was nice to look at, which he evidently was. But his voice had an undertone of something more and Dan desperately wanted to find out what that was.


“How else does it affect him?” Dan wondered aloud.


“Multitude of things.” Micky exhaled. He took a deep breath before responding any further. “Medical stuff like a weak heart. Had two major heart surgeries as a baby. Will probably need another one in his lifetime. He has stomach troubles. Bowel issues. Weak muscles. The eyes. Teeth. Hyperthyroid. Plus he’s got learning difficulties.” Micky’s eyes glazed over as he swished the glass in his hand. “He’s an eternal child. Sees the world like it should be in a fairy tale, minus the evil characters. Everything is bright and beautiful and everyone is his friend.” Micky paused. “It’s a real shame that life isn’t like that. Because a world full of Flynns would be the one I wanna live in.”


Dan paused for a moment, trying to take it all in. What Micky said. Flynn. The condition. The ideal. And how Micky described it all.


“I’m sorry you’re dealing with all that by yourself,” Dan finally said. “I had no idea.”


He’d just been lusting after his body all week. Now Dan knew the bloke had a soft, loving and caring side, what the hell was that going to do to him now?

 
 
Author Bio

Brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.

Studying at a West London university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly searches for the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down coffee.


She eventually moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.


Having worked in Higher Education for most of her career, a life-altering experience brought pen back to paper after she’d written stories as a child but never had the confidence to show them to the world. Having embarked on this writing malarkey, C F White cannot stop. So strap in, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride...
 
 
 


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In honour of Williams Syndrome Awareness Day, Pride Publishing are putting Misdemeanor, Hard Time and Reformed on a price promotion. You can get all three books at 99p/c each on Friday 18th May. Link here: https://www.pride-publishing.com/serial/responsible-adult, but you can also buy it at this price at most other retailers.

If you’d like to learn more about Williams Syndrome, then you can find out all the excellent work that the charities in both the UK and US do here:

www.williams-syndrome.org.uk
www.williams-syndrome.org
 
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Title: What He Fears

Series: Desires

Author: E.M. Denning

Publisher: Paper Gold Publishing

Pages: 216

 

 

Buy Links

 

Amazon UK | Amazon US |

 

 

 

Desires Series Links

 

What He Needs: Amazon Uk | Amazon US

What He Craves AmazonUk | Amazon Us

What He Hides: AmazonUk | Amazon Us

 

 

Blurb

 

For years Andrew Jefferies warred with himself; if he went so long without realizing he was bisexual, what other things are inside of him that he has yet to discover? When he lands in the arms of Nick Young, the hottest cop he’s ever seen and Andrew is determined not to let his fear hold him back anymore. But Nick is a complicated man and Andrew’s pursuit of happiness will change both their lives in ways he never dreamed possible.

 

Nick Young would love nothing more than to settle down with Rory, his Dom, but his need to switch has been in the way of that ever happening. When a lost, confused, and very drunk Andrew slams into his life, Nick’s inner Dom wants to help the lost soul and soon a friendship develops into something more. As a switch, Nick has always struggled to reconcile the two halves of himself, just like he struggles to reconcile his two different relationships. But Rory sees a solution through the added complication of Nick’s feelings for Andrew.

 

Rory Gallagher has loved Nick for years, and for years he's feared losing the man he loves. But solidifying a relationship with a switch wouldn’t be fair because Rory won’t give up top spot for anyone. When Nick confides in him about his feelings Andrew, his heart nearly breaks. He hates seeing Nick so conflicted. Rory would do anything for Nick, including enter into the most complicated relationship of his life.


Can a Dom, a switch, and a man who is just now discovering all the truths about himself find a way to make a relationship work, or will Rory's scheme make his greatest fear come true, costing him two men he cares about?
 
 
 
 
 
Author Bio
 

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.

 

 

Author's Weblinks

 

Authors Site

 

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BOOK BLAST
 
 
Book Title: Survivors
 
Author: Jessie Pinkham
 
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
 
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
 
Release Date: May 8, 2017
 
Genre/s: Romance, M/M Romance, Erotic Romance, Post-Apocalyptic 
 
Length: 62,000 words/190 pages
 
This is a standalone book.
 
 
 

 



Blurb



As a farmer Lee Johnson is well-situated to survive in the aftermath of a plague that killed most of humanity. As a gay man in a small community he's resigned himself to the probability of lifelong bachelorhood, at least until his sister returns home with handsome Army veteran Nate Schlessinger.

Sparks fly between the two men but nothing is easy following the collapse of civilization. Nate claims to be celibate despite his clear interest, Lee tries to keep his neighbors from starving, and the threat of attack looms constantly. Can love triumph in the ruins of the world as we knew it?

 
 
 
 
Buy Links
 
 
 
 
 



Excerpt



Nate looks skeptically at the carrots he pulled up. “Are these carrots supposed to be yellow?”

“Yes. You’ve never seen yellow carrots? They’re the best.”

“How many colors do carrots come in?”

“We grow yellow, orange, and purple, but there are red and white too. White carrots don’t have much flavor so I don’t see the point.”

It’s a nice morning for harvesting. Nate and I are working on carrots while Lily is one field over gathering onions. Every couple of minutes the wind carries over a few words of whatever song she’s singing to herself. The dogs are amusing themselves playing tug of war with a piece of rope I knotted for that purpose.

My shoulders are a bit stiff from helping Stan move yesterday, therefore I’m not harvesting carrots quite as quickly as I could. The fact that Nate is new to pulling carrots is a convenient excuse to slow down. It’s not a difficult concept to yank carrots out of the soil and Nate’s doing a fine job, though he’s the first person I’ve ever seen harvest carrots with a handgun holstered on.

“Yellow and purple carrots. Orange tomatoes. What next,” he asks, “red pumpkins?”

The orange tomatoes were an heirloom variety Mom decided to try this year which are worth growing again. I’ve saved a good amount of seeds, plenty for us and the neighbors. Genetic diversity in crops will serve us well.

“The pumpkins are all orange.”

“Good. I like some consistency in my life.”

“Getting up every morning to take care of the animals isn’t consistent enough for you?” Livestock guarantees a certain level of routine in our lives.

“I like plenty of consistency.”

“Farming is good for that.” I make sure I’m quiet for my next question, something that’s been nagging me. “Do you think we have a good chance of defending ourselves?”

“It depends on a lot of factors. We have the advantage over a small, maybe mid-sized gang unless they have really impressive weapons, but we can’t hold off an army. Fortunately, I think small gangs are more likely at this point.”

“Have I mentioned that my dad kept his great-great grandfather’s Civil War sword? It’s in the chest in the living room.”

“Let’s hold that as a last resort, okay?”

“Works for me. Damned if I know how to use the thing.”

“Now, a Civil War cannon might have more potential.”

“I think we’re stuck with the bows.”

“On the plus side those don’t run the risk of blowing up in our faces.”

“That’s a very big plus,” I say. Nate has his first homemade bow complete now, though it doesn’t shoot very far.

“Our biggest advantage, I think, is that I can probably shoot people as they approach. The military helmets will help a lot there.” He ignores the carrots in favor of looking at me, all weighty responsibility. “I’m going to do everything I can to protect us, to protect you and Lily.”

I demonstrate my appreciation with a kiss. “Thank you. Just remember you’re not doing it single-handedly, okay?”

“You’re a decent shot. That will help.”

He’s being generous. I’m a decent shot at close range with a slow-moving target, and my abilities degrade from there. Like I said, I went bird hunting with my dad sometimes, but it was never my favorite and that shows in my skill level.

“Lily can shoot too,” he says. “Even if she’s not a great shot it will create more chaos and give them more bullets to dodge.” Guns aren’t her favorite, but there’s no doubt she’ll do whatever is necessary. “I think we’ll be alright, barring some property damage.”

“I hope we’re alright. And that any property damage is minor.”

“I’m not going down without a fight,” he says, which I already knew. Nate’s just like that. “I’m happier than I thought I could be after Severny destroyed everything. Not that it isn’t hard, and I don’t miss people all the time, but somewhere along the way I realized I need to let myself be happy, you know?”

“Yes.” I really, really do. It’s easy to fall into survivor’s guilt until you realize that nobody who died would want us to spend the rest of our lives miserable. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my bouts of survivor’s guilt all the same. It does make it easier to move forward and feel okay about it when I smile and laugh.

“You’re a big part of my happiness. You do know that, right?”

“I know.” I kiss him again. “And I feel the same way. You’re awesome like that.”

“Keep throwing around adjectives like awesome and I’m gonna get a big head.”

“Which head are we talking about?” I ask with an unsubtle glance at his crotch.

“I was talking about the one on my neck.”

“Past tense. I can work with that. Let’s hurry up and get these carrots harvested so we can go inside, where I can admire your other head.”

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you only want me for my body.”

“Since you do know better there’s nothing wrong with heartfelt appreciation.”

Nate raises his eyebrows. “Sure, pretend your heart is in charge at the moment.”

“You say that as though it’s a bad thing, but you’re picking carrots faster.”

 
 

 

About the Author


Some kids have imaginary friends. Jessie grew up in rural Maine where she needed to entertain herself, so she created an imaginary village and she has been dreaming up stories ever since. These days she writes romances which reflect her love of hot guys and a good happy ending.
Married to her own Mr. Right, Jessie gratefully acknowledges his support and encouragement. She enjoys exploring the diversity of the universe and therefore cannot commit to a single subgenre of male/male romance. She’s also a chocoholic, avid reader, and travel enthusiast. Too often she rushes out at the last minute because she lost track of time while writing. 

 

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Title: Double Dutch Courage

Author: Helena Stone

Word count: 63k (approx)

Release Date: May 12, 2018

 

 

Buy links:

Universal Buy Link

 

Amazon Author Page

 

Also available through Kindle Unlimited

 

 

 

Blurb

 

Ronan Collins has spent most of his life in Dublin hiding who he really is. Coming out would hurt his mother, and Ronan isn’t going to be the second gay man to do that. When he receives news the father he has never known has died, leaving him both a house and a business in Amsterdam, he jumps on the opportunity to get to know the man who fathered him and to discover what he’s been denying himself for years.

 

Lucas Brandt thought he had it all when Paul Kelly offered him a job and rooms to live in. With Paul deceased he fears he may be about to lose both. He didn’t even know Paul had a son, and now this stranger is on his way from Dublin to pull the rug out from under Lucas’s feet.

 

The two men don’t expect to like each other, never mind feel attraction. With numerous reasons why hooking up would be a bad idea, why does giving in feel so much better? And is Ronan’s back story really as he’s always imagined it to be?

 

Sudden changes require great bravery. Can both men find the courage to be true to themselves and each other?

 

 

 

 

 

Excerpt 1

“So, what does it say?”

 

Ronan glanced up from the letter in his hands to his mother and back again, his mind blank. She’d thrust the envelope at him as soon as he’d arrived home from work. Of course, he didn’t get registered mail from the Netherlands very often — make that ever — but that still hadn’t explained the nervous tension radiating from her. After opening the envelope and reading the letter, the fraught atmosphere made sense. The contents of the missive on the other hand…

 

“I don’t understand.” Ronan stared from the piece of paper to his mother. He’d read the words twice now, and still he couldn’t get his head around what any of it meant. For what felt like an eternity, rain and wind from the vicious storm hitting the windows was the only sound in the living room.

 

“It says.” Ronan took a deep breath. “The letter offers me condolences on the death of Paul Kelly, and informs me that I’ve been awarded a large portion of his estate in his will.” He read the next few lines again, hoping repetition would lead to comprehension.

 

“Does it give specifics about that inheritance?” His mother’s voice sounded flat, and distant.

 

“Yes,” Ronan said. “There’s talk about a house which also holds a business, as well as an unspecified, but apparently not insubstantial, amount of money.” None of it made sense.  “I don’t understand. Why would he leave anything to me? He ignored me my whole life. Why would he suddenly remember my existence in a document I wouldn’t be made aware of until after he had died?”

 

He diverted his attention from the letter just in time to see a horrified expression cross his mother’s face.

“Ma, what’s going on?”

 

She gazed at him for a moment, as if trying to figure out what to tell him, before averting her gaze. “I don’t know, lad. To say your father has always been a law unto himself would be a gross understatement. I’m sure he had his reasons. Maybe guilt got the better of him after all this time?”

 

Ronan studied his mother, certain that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t so much that he thought she was lying, but he couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to the story. Questions burned on his tongue, and vague suspicions sprang up in his mind but he pushed them back, two decades of not prying too hard getting the better of him.

 

He’d been a mere eight years old when he’d realized that asking about his father caused his mother pain. By then he’d known the story by heart. Paul had been married to his mother for just under six months before leaving her when she was three months pregnant with Ronan. It was ridiculous how easy it still was, even after twenty years, to remember the pain and anger in her voice whenever she used to tell him that the man who had fathered him had left because he’d decided he couldn’t deny his homosexuality any longer. His father being gay had hurt his mother, the message had been loud and clear, and Ronan had heard and heeded it. He’d made a point to not ask after him since the day she’d broken down in response to his endless questions. He could still hear the words; two decades not long enough to erase them from his memory.

 

He left, Ronan. He left because he was gay and couldn’t or wouldn’t love either me or you enough to stay.

He’d accepted those words at the time and, since his father had never been in contact, he had no reason to doubt them. Except that…

 

“I still don’t understand why he named me in his will.” Ronan looked at the paper, unclenching his fist as soon as he realized he’d scrunched the letter into a ball. “Surely after all this time, he would have other people in his life to leave his stuff to.”

 

“I can’t help you there, lad.” His mother smiled tentatively. “I have no idea what he did after he left me. In fact, until that letter arrived I didn’t even know whether or not he was still in the Netherlands. He told me that’s where he would be going, but that was twenty-eight years ago, after all.”

 

“Oh,” Ronan said, acknowledging that his mother wouldn’t be his source for additional details, although he still couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t telling him everything. “There’s a number for me to call for more information.”

 

“Why don’t you phone them and see what exactly you’re dealing with? Once we know what we’re looking at we can figure out what to do next.”

 

Ronan knew his mother was right. He had to make that call even if it did feel as if life as he’d known it, as he’d constructed it with great care, was about to come to an end. Whether that would turn out to be a good or a bad thing remained to be seen, and there was only one way to find out.

 

 

 

 

Excerpt 2

 

 

Ronan seemed to search Lucas’s face for something, then lowered his gaze until Lucas was convinced he was staring at his lips. He mused that the sunshine had to be getting to him as the afternoon took on a dreamlike quality. Ronan licked his lips, the tip of his tongue tempting Lucas, teasing him. When Ronan leant forward Lucas wondered what was happening, whether he was imagining things. Surely Ronan wasn’t about to —

The soft press of Ronan’s lips against his elicited a sigh from Lucas. He would have been embarrassed about his reaction if he hadn’t been lost in the moment. It was the second time Ronan had taken him by surprise in this manner, except on this occasion he didn’t appear to have any intention of pulling back.

With so many reasons why this was the worst idea ever, it didn’t make any sense that the overriding thought running through his mind was more.

 

He cupped Ronan’s neck, keeping the pressure light, barely there. Ronan reacted as if Lucas had used force and pressed his lips firmer against his, parting them in the process.

 

Lucas was helpless against the onslaught. It had taken him days to stop obsessing about Ronan’s mouth after that quick, shy kiss a week earlier. There would be no coming back from this. He had no doubt he would end up hurt. Even as he had the thought, Lucas parted his own lips, slipped his tongue through the gap and tentatively caressed Ronan’s mouth.

 

“Oh.” Ronan’s soft exclamation meant his lips parted farther and Lucas took advantage. Fuck being sensible. Fuck worrying about tomorrow, or next week, or six months from today. He was here, now, and the tongue hesitantly exploring his was nothing like what he’d expected and everything he wanted it to be.

The kiss transported him back to his teenage years, to the first boy he’d ever kissed. Clumsy and with clashing teeth, it had been as awkward as it had been exciting. Pretty much as it was now, except this time it didn’t make sense.

 

He pulled back until the tips of their noses were the only parts of them still touching. Ronan’s lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes. They widened and he lowered his gaze.

 

“That bad, eh?” Ronan directed his words at the grass beneath their knees.

 

“Not bad.” Lucas tried to figure out what to say. Not sure what he was reacting to, he didn’t know which words to use either, so the truth would have to do. “It just brought back a memory of something I hadn’t thought about in ages.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Ronan still wouldn’t look at him and Lucas didn’t like it. He lifted Ronan’s chin with his index finger. “It reminded me of when I was fourteen and me and Hans, my best friend back then, decided to find out what the big deal about kissing was.”

 

“It was like your first kiss?” Ronan still tried to avoid meeting Lucas’s gaze.

“Yes.” Lucas smiled. He couldn’t believe Hans had slipped his mind. They’d done a lot of exploring together before Hans decided he was interested in girls after all. He got so lost in his reminiscence he almost missed the words Ronan muttered.

 

“Makes sense.”

 

It hit Lucas like a ton of bricks. Here was yet another reason why getting involved with Ronan was the worst idea ever. If he was right, he would be Ronan’s first in everything. The thought that Ronan’s inexperience might include kissing hadn’t crossed his mind until this moment. He wasn’t sure he could make that journey with Ronan without getting emotionally involved. He had to know for sure.

 

“I’m your first?”

 

The combination of shame and defeat Lucas read in Ronan’s expression tore at him. He didn’t need an answer. He also didn’t need to think about what to do next. Yes, he would end up getting hurt, but he’d deal with it. It wouldn’t be the first time or, in all likelihood, the last. He could be Ronan’s first and make it a good, a memorable, experience.

 

“I want to be your second, too.” He didn’t wait and pressed his lips back against Ronan’s before he could respond.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Author

 

 

Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.

The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.

Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.

 

 

Helena's Social Links

 

 

Facebook | Facebook Reader's Group | Facebook Author Page | Twitter | Goodreads |

Amazon Author Page | Pinterest | MeWe | MeWe Reader's Group | Newsletter

 

 

 

 

 
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
Length: 40,000 words approx.
 
 
Ellery Mountain Series
 
 
Blurb


Army medic Ben Rockwell is in Ellery to work with the Veterans Center creating a new specialist unit for post trauma care. Desperate to make amends for battlefield decisions he regrets, he is focused on the unit and nothing else. Until some stranger moves in next door and throws him a curveball. He’s no hero, even though everyone says he is, and the lies burn inside him.


Leaving drama and chaos in his wake, Nicholas Merrick fled London and is hiding out in his friend Jason’s house, until everything back home dies a death. The choices he made in his life were to keep his best friend safe, but as a result everyone sees him as the bad guy.


When these two meet, the attraction is instant. Can they ever be their true selves, and find love as a result?

 

Review

 

****

 

The story starts with Nick in hiding from the press, Hiding out in Ellery mountain at his friend’s house.

We also have Ben who is looking after Jason’s house (Nicks Friends).  So, we start with Ben believing that Jason’s is being burgled and calls the police.  This mishap causes irritation between them. There is a spark between them and in a way they both share similar problems.

 

Nick is hiding from the press after making suggestions to the press, that there is a sex tape of him cheating on his wife.  His wife is also his friend from way back and they agreed to marry to keep their parents off their backs.  That was until said friend becomes pregnant to her real boyfriend.

 

Ben A veteran medic struggles to cope with his so-called hero status that locals have given him for saving soldiers in the theatre of war.  But Ben can not cope with the guilt of the loss of those men he could not save.

The story is warm and full of emotions and of course hot and sweaty bodies, their journey starts as almost enemies, moves onto no strings sex.  Which suits both characters, as neither intend to stay in Ellery Mounting for long, so why not enjoy each other’s company and hot bodies.

 

All is well until they both find they have feelings creeping into their budding relationship.  Can they follow their feelings and move onto a new future and a path that would keep them together?  Or is destiny against them?

I loved the contrast of characters, Ben is grouch and Nick can be a little sarcastic, they often rub one another up the wrong way.  Both main characters as well as minor character all came across genuine.  I like the way characters from other books in the series, make appearances in this one, Its always nice to see a favorite character pop up now and again.

 

Now I will have to catch up with the books I have not read yet.  More nights of late night reading and no sleep for me.

 
 
 
 
Excerpt


Chapter 1


Loud banging, with added yelling, pulled Nick out of a nightmare. After a restless, irritable, crunchy-messy night of tossing and turning, he had finally fallen asleep some time before dawn, and now at fuck o’clock in the morning there was knocking at the front door. And some asshole shouting words that he couldn’t make out. Was this part of his dream? He couldn’t tell.


For the longest time he lay flat on his back, unwilling to move. The sheets were wrapped around him like a mummy, the quilt on the floor, and he was still in that half world between nightmare and reality. Even closing his eyes didn’t help dispel the vivid images of him walking up to the Oscar podium completely naked and with the Queen pointing and laughing at him.


Naked as the day he was born, hanging loose and free, and no one saying a thing. Apart from the laughing that was. Like it was okay that one of the Oscar nominees was walking up the steps free of any and all clothing.


Not to mention no one commented on the Queen throwing popcorn at him.


Yep, it had been that kind of nightmare, and it wasn’t the first time he’d had it. And where the Oscar fear came from he didn’t know. There would never be a chance of an Oscar for. Not for the guy whose acting career had happened by accident and formed only because of a personal rebellion against his straight laced family. His resume included two sequels to the highly profitable, but formulaic, shit-bad, Angels of Bedlam franchise, with his entire fee going charity because he didn’t need the money.


Nick hadn’t been in the first UK funded Bedlam film. Said film had been praised for its ingenious twist on a dark horror romance. No, he was the handy British villain in the next two, the studio cashing in on any money that was left out there in a saturated market by ticking all the boxes. Explosions, tick. Strong, but mostly naked, female lead, tick. Sexy down on his luck, in te wrong place at the wrong time, male lead, tick.


And him, the ubiquitous bad guy with the English accent.


The follow up were certainly not Oscar material, and once Nick pulled his fragmented sleep-addled thoughts into line, he focused on the statistical likelihood of even being nominated for an Oscar in the first place, let alone accepting it naked.


“Fuck me,” he muttered to the empty room and rolled onto his front. The banging had stopped and no one actually knew he was here, so, he wasn’t going to answer the door in a place that wasn’t even his.


Jason McInnery and his husband, Kieran, lived in this stunning home, in the small town of Ellery, Tennessee. Glass floor to ceiling, wide open rooms, a pool in the garden, and the most comprehensive jungle gym he’d ever seen for Jason and Kieran’s son, Jonas. Even the damn guest room was beautiful, a huge wood carving took up nearly one wall, and the view from the window out to the mountain was stunning. At least that was the adjective he was supposed to use for what he could see. Objectively, he could see it was spectacular, but was too lost in confusion since he got here to think about it too much. A quick glance at the clock showed him it was five am, like midnight or something back in London, and still dark in the shadow of the mountain, so he rolled over and pulled the covers up to his neck.


Even in the middle of the chaotic remnants of his nightmare he welcomed the heat that cocooned him and willed the knocking to stop. Which it did. The mess of dreams forgotten, he drifted on as many good thoughts as he could muster and was very nearly asleep when the banging started up again. He groaned and hid his face under the pillow, willing the person creating the noise to go away. Then it ceased again, and he closed his eyes, but didn’t remove the pillow. Dawn was too close now and the room would fill with light because he hadn’t even taken the time to pull the drapes.


Unfortunately, his bladder had other ideas about what he needed to do, and cursing, he grabbed the sheets and untwisted himself. Feet planted on the floor he scrubbed a hand over his face, the untamed beard was just another reminder of everything that was horribly wrong about his life right now. Normally he would have just the right amount of stubble, but the last instalment of Angels of Bedlam, cunningly entitled, Bedlam Adrift, called for him to be a castaway, hence the beard, which he’d left to tangle.


No point in worrying about it anyway. He’d left London to get away from paparazzi, and their incessant need for more, and he was in unofficial hiding. Therefore, no one would see his beard, or his bloodshot eyes.


He caught sight of himself in the mirror.


“Jesus, you look fucked.”


Bedhead. Bags under his eyes. Beard. It was a whole cacophony of B-shit. Yawning widely, he padded across the bedroom to the half bath, emptying his bladder and washing his hands. He’d gone to bed as nature intended. Well, warm nature anyway, completely naked, which probably led to nightmare. Packing back home had been done in less than five minutes, his priority was money, passport, his phone, his laptop and associated chargers. It seemed like his messed-up head hadn’t thought any kind of pajamas were needed, or indeed underwear.


The next choice was shower or bed, and the exhaustion of the past few days, the media attention, making sure Heather was okay, fleeing the UK, ending up here in the middle of rural Tennessee, it was all too much and he sighed.


“Bed it is,” he muttered to his reflection. As soon as he woke up he was going online to order everything he’d forgot to pack. Jason had said to help himself to anything he needed but helping himself to his friend’s clothes didn’t feel right.


He yawned again, and stepped out into the cooler bedroom, eyes only half open.


“Hands where I can see them,” someone shouted, and Nick, startled, his heart pounding, fell backwards into the bathroom, catching himself on the jamb as best he could. He blinked to focus on the man in front of him.


The cop.


The gun.


The cop holding a gun on him. Immediately he raised his hands, and then lowered them to cover his junk, and then raised them again when the cop didn’t move.

 
 
 
 

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 is the author of the over one hundred novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.


She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.


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


She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the

 

 

 

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►►BOOK INFO◄◄

 

 

Title: Egoist #1
Series: Love of the Egoist Series
Author: Nero Seal
Editor: Elizabeth Peters
Cover Design: Sublime Novels
Genre: Dark M/M Romance, Enemies2Lovers, Psychological Thriller, Contemporary
 
Release Date: May 20, 2018
 
 

 

 

 

►►BLURB◄◄

 

“I wanted to play with you… punish you. But now, I want to ruin your world and turn it pitch black. Isolate you so you don’t have anything left except me.

And remember, it’s your own fault.”

 

* * *

 

Isolation. Loneliness. Endless silence stretching into eternity.

This is the personal living hell of police detective, Kuon Leiris.

His punishment for ruining the Black Duke’s deal.

But when nights come, it gets worse…

Cruelty. Care. Brutality. Affection.

 

Constant mind games where he can do nothing, but give in.

Yugo pours his every corrupt desire into his prey, testing the limits of their twisted relationship.

Do you dare enter a dark world where safe-words don’t exist?

 

 

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His foot stepped on the thick blue rubber, dipping under his weight.  A strong smell of sweat hit his nose, and he stepped back leaning on the doorframe.

 

Two wild animals, curling their backs in graceful poses, circled the room, inch by inch reducing the distance between them with every second. Their unblinking gazes locked together, muscles tensed and pumped with blood. Thick blue veins popped up under their sweaty skin.

 

Reflections danced in the kaleidoscope of surrounding mirrors, repeating their every move. The sunset painted a part of the blue rubber flooring in dirty orange, and the light streaming in from the panoramic window, coated their bodies in a warm golden glow. Several white towels lay about the gym.

 

The smaller man launched forward with a combo of fast strikes to his opponent’s torso, aiming for his solar plexus, liver, and floating ribs. His low kick tried to reach the back of Greg’s knee.

 

Greg shifted, evading the kick. His hands moved with enormous speed for someone of his size, repelling the attack. With a stony expression, he went for a counterblow. His heavy forearm aimed for the middle of Kuon’s biceps, seeking his pain point, trying to paralyze Kuon’s arm. Kuon raised his hand in a block. Greg’s assault skid along Kuon’s toned muscles toward his shoulder, without doing any serious damage. Kuon had to step back.

The strikes, reaching the skin, left red, swollen marks on half-naked bodies. Sweat trickled down Kuon’s spine, painting the denim fabric on his waist deep blue. Yugo saw his stomach slightly rising in a controlled breath. His eyes, glutted with attention, glued to Greg’s.

 

One part in Yugo wanted to demand an explanation, but curiosity took over. He wanted to see Kuon in action, wanted to see this beautiful body in the heat of combat, radiating threat. His arms crossed his chest.

Kuon changed his guard, raising his arms higher, protecting his throat where Greg had been aiming in his last lash, then adjusted the distance. His attack strategy altered to a series of high and low kicks. But his opponent had the reputation of one of the best fighters in Yugo’s milieu. He shifted left. Yugo jerked when a powerful kick hit the lower segment of Kuon’s left lung, throwing the detective back to the mirrored wall. Kuon gripped his middle and collapsed on his knees; his body shaking with a suffocating coughing.

 

Blood left Yugo’s face. He inched forward wanting to interrupt, but Greg approached Kuon first and outstretched his open hand. The smile playing on his brutish face was an unknown expression for Yugo. Kuon, gasping for air, returned the cheerful smile and put his own hand in Greg’s.

 

“You are opening your torso too much. Keep your elbows lower. My attack forced you to protect your throat, leaving your body unshielded. Keep your focus on my middle, don’t look in my eyes, don’t look for my movements. You are trying to predict them. Don’t. Let your instincts take over. Look for openings, opportunities. Leave your reflex for defense; use your brain for an attack. Wanna try again?” The bulky man pulled Kuon upright. In a second, the detective stood on his feet touching Greg’s shoulder with his bare chest.

 

Blood rushed in Yugo’s head, hazing his vision with a heavy veil of jealousy and anger. Drums pounded in his ears and in his throat, echoing in his fingertips when he stepped forward. He didn’t see two fighting studs anymore. He saw one stud wooing his bitch.

 


Love of the Egoist - paperback cover

 
 
 

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►►AUTHOR BIO◄◄

 

Journalist, poker player, casino events manager, designer, and SEO specialist, Nero Seal tried it all before committing to the idea of being an M/M fiction writer. Living in one of the most homophobic countries in the world, he has a lot to say. Being an avid traveler, he creates his imaginary worlds from the places he’s been and the people he’s met. Characters are always talking in his head, forcing him to write their stories, using his 49 kinks as the ultimate weapon of alluring. When the voices in his head aren’t slaving him around, he is drawing, hiking, and procrastinating important things in favor of momentary gratification.

 

 

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Length: 87,000 word approx.
 
Blurb

For college sophomore Mitch Greyson, determination and persistence are the name of the game if he wants to make it as a professional hockey player. A busy schedule of practices, games, classes, homework, two part-time jobs—and now, working with a tutor to help him pass the class he’s failing so that he can keep his scholarship—shouldn’t leave him with enough time to flirt with the NHL player in town. But that doesn’t stop him.

Placed on the injured reserve list until his broken arm heals, NHL defenseman Alex Dean is using the time off to be with his ailing grandfather and get a head start on the book he’s been commissioned to write. He doesn’t expect to get roped into a tutoring gig, especially not for cocky, smart-ass Mitch.

But Alex soon discovers that there’s more to Mitch than meets the eye...and he really likes what he sees. Only Alex doesn’t dare risk his NHL career by coming out, and a relationship between them would jeopardize Mitch’s chances with the organization too.

It looks impossible. Then again, the best things usually do...

 

 

 

 



Excerpt



“Good game against Colgate,” Alex said, pocketing his phone.

The mask slipped off Mitch’s face. “You were there?”

Alex shook his head. “Watched it on TV.”

Holy crap! An NHL player—Mitch’s hockey crush, no less—had watched his game. At a loss for words, Mitch stood there blinking at Alex like a putz.

“You’ve got impressive foot work,” Alex said.

Mitch continued to blink at him.

“You skated circles around Colgate and that goal in the third?” Alex smiled wide. “You broke Colgate’s end as if the defensemen were pylons. It was beautiful.”

“I—” Mitch cleared his throat. “Well, McCall passed me the puck at just the right time, so… I mean, I did figure skating for years and…” He had no idea what he was trying to say.

“Huh. I know a couple of guys who did some figure skating after their game slipped and it helped them rebound. It’s something I’ve been considering to improve my foot speed.” Alex leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms, but his cast got in the way so he ended up shoving one hand in his pocket and letting the casted one dangle. “Your training shows in your footwork. How else has it helped your game?”

In total disbelief that an NHL player was asking him for advice, Mitch said, “Figure skating is about using edges and your body to change direction on the ice. It’s about learning to cut a corner or to pivot the right way while maintaining your speed. It made me a better skater.”

“It shows.”

God, the compliments were going to go to Mitch’s head.

“What made you decide to stick with hockey instead of figure skating?”

Mitch shrugged and told the truth. “I liked hockey better.”

“Could you do a triple axel in full hockey gear?” Alex asked, a teasing grin on his face.

Mitch had to laugh. “I’ve never tried.” But now he was itching to.

“No? What about a—” Alex held his index finger up and moved it in small circles, “—with the leg out in front?”

“A sit spin?” Mitch scratched his head. “I actually think that one might be harder than the triple axel in full hockey gear.”

They stood there smiling at each other for a moment, Alex’s eyes the color of the Green Mountains in summer. The man was too gorgeous for words and he was nice to boot. Mitch couldn’t help staring at Alex’s mouth, red and surprisingly soft in an otherwise rugged face.

Alex cleared his throat and edged around Mitch. “I’ve got to get back to my friend.”

“Wait, I—” The hallway was empty so Mitch plastered his sex smile back on his face, walked right into Alex’s personal space, and put a hand on Alex’s hip. “Why don’t you come over tonight and we’ll—”

Alex palmed Mitch’s shoulders and pushed him away. “Look, kid—”

“I’m not a kid.”

Mitch.” Alex held him at arm’s length. “Whatever it is you’re trying to do here, it’s not going to happen. I don’t even know you.”

“What difference does that make?”

Alex dropped his arms. “I don’t jump into bed with people I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even jump into bed with people I do know.”

Alex wasn’t saying I’m not gay, but it did sound like he was saying I’m asexual or something similar, which left Mitch exactly nowhere.


 
Amy started writing on a rainy day in fourth grade when her class was forced to stay inside for recess. Tales of adventures with her classmates quickly morphed into tales of adventures with the characters in her head. Based in the suburbs of Toronto, Amy is a marketer/fundraiser at a large environmental non-profit in Toronto by day, and a writer by night. Book enthusiast, animal lover and (very) amateur photographer, her interests are many and varied, including travelling, astronomy, ecology, and baking. She binge watches too much anime, and loves musical theater, Julie Andrews, the Backstreet Boys, and her hometown of Oakville, Ontario.
 


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Book Title: Owned by the Sea
 
Author: L M Somerton
 
Publisher: Pride Publishing
 
Cover Artist: Emmy Ellis, @studioenp
 
Genre/s: contemporary gay romance, BDSM
 
Length: 60869 words/164 pages
 
General Release Date: May 8, 2018
 
It is a standalone story.
 



Blurb



Storms pass and, in their wake, new beginnings can be found.

Talented young artist Jonty Trelawn paints the sea as self-inflicted punishment. For almost a year he has hidden away from life, survivor’s guilt consuming him, but the time has come to move on. He conceives the idea of a charity art auction in support of the local lifeboat station and the men and women who saved his life. He hopes the tribute to his family will release him from the sea’s invisible chains.

Carpenter Jed Curnow is bound to the water in a different way. As deputy coxswain of the Govenek, the local lifeboat, his world revolves around the close-knit crew. He thinks nothing of risking his life to save others. Saving Jonty is less dangerous but just as important to him. He wants nothing more than to give Jonty the love and security he needs.

Jed’s dominant personality calls to Jonty’s more submissive nature but will he ever allow himself to be happy? It’s up to Jed and his best friend Marmite to help Jonty put his tragic past behind him and live for the future.


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Excerpt


Jonty stood on the swaying deck and took a last, longing glance at the shore. His stomach was already heaving and the Caroline, named after his mother, had only just left the shelter of the bay. The next three days at sea were going to be torment. He hated the annual family ritual that took him away from his painting, but his father insisted on it and, at twenty-five, Jonty still hadn’t found the courage to refuse him. Rex Trelawn, who headed a private bank when he wasn’t torturing his son, had given up on Jonty ever being a ‘proper’ sailor, so Jonty was consigned to the galley with orders to keep the rest of the family fed and watered. He dealt with supplies, stocked the cupboards and made sure the boat was ready for a short sea voyage. He was also responsible for reporting their position to the coastguard at regular intervals, which he managed between visits to the head where his stomach contents insisted on making unwelcome reappearances.

The Caroline was a forty-six footer and manageable with a crew of four. She was just big enough that Jonty could avoid his father for some, if not all, of the trip. Rex always took the wheel while Jonty’s mother and younger sister, Evie, managed ropes and sails with ease. Evie had a sturdy build and relished the challenges of sailing while Jonty favored his recently deceased grandfather, being slight and less than average height. They were a small family, just the four of them, and Jonty found it impossible to refuse the one outing of the year that brought them all together, much as he wanted to. Three days battling his father’s disappointment was not his idea of a fun time.

Jonty slipped below deck to the narrow, claustrophobic galley and began preparations for a light supper. Soup and bread, fruitcake and hot chocolate would suffice—not that he’d be able to eat any of it himself. Just the idea of food made his stomach flip over. The four of them would take breaks and sleep in shifts, sailing out past Land’s End and into the Atlantic during the night. It would be something of an endurance test but Jonty could cope with that. He kept strange hours when he painted, sometimes forgetting to sleep.

His father was first to descend into the cabin, brushing a hand through his windswept silver hair. He shed his waterproofs, hanging them on a peg before taking a seat at the table.

“Wind’s getting up, Jonathon. Be sure to check the shipping forecast later.”

“Yes, sir.” Jonty didn’t need the reminder, but said nothing. He ladled soup into a bowl then placed it in front of his father.

“Not eating?” The usual note of disapproval colored Rex Trelawn’s tone.

“No.” Jonty didn’t expand. His father knew full well that Jonty got seasick every time he sailed.

“Come and join me.”

Jonty held back a sigh. He wasn’t feeling up to defending himself yet again.

“Shaw tells me your earnings are exceptional for such a young artist. He wants more work from you.”

The sigh escaped. “Shaw has no business discussing my finances with you. He’s my agent, not yours.”

“I hope you’re investing well?” Rex waved a soup spoon at him, ignoring Jonty’s objection. “I’ll have to put the rent up on Cliff House.”

Jonty’s family, including his sister who was studying at King’s College, resided in London. Jonty chose to live at the family’s second home in Cornwall where the pure light was perfect for painting. He needed a place of his own where he could cut another tie to his domineering father but somehow he’d never gotten around to house hunting. He didn’t rise to Rex’s taunt. Housing discussions were preferable to those that questioned his ‘dubious lifestyle choices’. Rex Trelawn had never quite accepted his son’s sexual orientation and it was a topic best avoided. When Jonty came out at eighteen, Evie had shrugged, his mother had wept for a while then refreshed her makeup, hugged him then commenced trawling her copious address book for prospective boyfriends. Rex had given him the silent treatment for months until Jonty’s first gallery showing had sold out. He’d proved to have some worth, so they’d reached a truce of sorts.

“It’s time I found a place of my own,” he said. “Property is a good investment these days, isn’t it?”

Rex grunted. Checkmate had been reached. Rex wanted his son as a live-in caretaker for Cliff House, a place where he had a hold on him. Rex knew it and so did Jonty. “It’s time for the shipping forecast.”

Jonty switched on the radio then relaxed into the familiar litany of strange names and wind speeds, paying particular attention to Lundy and Sole.

“It’s brisker than I expected,” Rex muttered. “Bloody weather changes on the toss of a coin. We could be in for a bumpy ride.” He cut himself a slice of fruitcake, grinning.

Jonty’s stomach did a jig. He just made it to the head in time.

An unpleasant five minutes later, Jonty returned to the cabin to find Evie swapping places with their father at the table.

“Have you been worshiping the porcelain god again, big brother?”

“The boy has a weak constitution,” Rex grumbled, disappearing up the steps to the deck.

“And he could eat roadkill on a rollercoaster without retching,” Jonty sniped. “You want soup, sis?”

“Only if you haven’t thrown up in it.” Despite her words, Evie’s smile was sympathetic.

“There’s nothing left in my stomach. Besides, you’re like Dad. You’ll eat anything.” Jonty did his duty with the soup then watched as Evie demolished the entire bowl and two sizeable chunks of bread.

“Hungry work out there.” She grinned. “Dad been giving you grief again?”

“Same as usual.” Jonty shrugged. “He won’t change.”

“Next year when he proposes this trip, tell him to go take a running jump off the nearest pier.”

“So says the favored child.”

“I’m straight, gorgeous, I love sport and will provide him with grandchildren. You are not straight, far too pretty for a man, refuse to cut your hair, you hate sport and you have a talent he doesn’t, which will no doubt make you richer than him. Of course he loves me best.” She raised her mug of hot chocolate in a toast.

 
 
About the Author 

Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.

She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She's fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.
 


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Title: The Colour Between Us

Author: Kate Hawthorne

Publisher: Self Published

Pages: 268 

Genre: Romance

 

 

Buy Links

 

Amazon US    Amazon UK

 

 

Blurb

 

Roland Wilson is a haunted man.


A decade since his last successful gallery showing, Roland’s life has crumbled. Imprisoned by his own mind and taunted daily by painful memories, he finds his only comfort in drinking. With a life that has devolved into nothing brighter than variants of gray, he sees little point in his existence when a delivery boy with eyes of inspirational blue shows up at his door.

 

Adonis Smith wants something he can’t have.


In his mind, Adonis lives up to his name. He’s six-feet tall and built like a god, but in reality he’s just Donny—a short, nothing-special twink that no one takes seriously in or out of bed. Then he meets Roland, a beautiful, yet brash, struggling artist who is consumed by his own shortcomings. Donny knows he shouldn’t get involved with the handsome and tempestuous man, but the more Donny sees of him, the more he wants Roland to be his...for good. 

 

A mutual inspiration.


As the feelings between the two men develop into something colorful and vibrant, it seems each has finally found what he needs. When Roland enters a spiral of self-destruction, it derails his relationship with Donny and sends them both into a tailspin. On their own, each man will need to decide if he is strong enough to stand beside the other and face the future together. 


Will they be able to rediscover the best parts of each other before the colors between them fade for good?


The Colors Between us addresses what it's like to live with depression and may be triggering for some readers.

 

 

Sue's Review

 

*****

 

 

I've not read many books dealing with depression. Roland broke my heart multiple times. I just wanted to hug him tight all the time.

 

Donny was just the right kind of pushy. Taking what he wanted but what Roland needed to give.

They really are a good match.

 

I love books where the smaller of the two is the more dominant one. Donny's dominance was amazing. Just shows you can't judge a book by it's cover.

 

Meeting Gabriel and Joel (again( I will say here that I asked to know more of Gabriel and Joel until I was told that they were from His Kind Of Love. Which I loved)).

 

Roland is trying to live his life but it's not easy for him and it's hard to see how he struggles but he ended up doing the right thing for himself and for Donny. He got his painting back. Donny really helped him but he also helped himself.

 

This author is becoming a firm favourite of mine and i'll look forward to more

 

 

Author's Bio

 

When Kate was little, she wanted to be an English teacher, but when she turned eighteen she decided to become a Dominatrix instead. Fast-forward to 2017, a few years into her thirties, she decided writing gay romance was just as good as teaching English, so she sat down and penned her first novel. 

 

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The Blurb

 

 

No one ever said it would be easy.

 

Running away from his messy divorce did not bring Ira Fragale the peace he sought. If he is going to get his life together he needs to pull up his big boy pants and take care of business. He’s been hiding out licking his wounds in Skagit for two years now, keeping his head down (except for the trail of twinks he’s left behind). Something’s going to give.

 

Cameron McCulloch needs to knock Ira off the pedestal he's placed him on. Because he's older doesn't mean Ira has any clearer idea about life and the universe than Cam. Cam needs to focus on his own needs and forget about Ira, but he can’t. Bartending at the Loft is easy and he likes the community he’s fallen into since his family rejected him, but if he wants more out of life he’s going to have to go out and get it himself.

 

Ira didn’t choose Skagit at random, he came to the small city because events twenty years ago set him on his path on today. The mystery of his father’s murder may never be solved but Ira would like to lay his spirit to rest.

None of this explains the upswing of possible hate crime in Skagit. The small town has its share of trouble but someone, or someones, are on the prowl, harassing the LGBTQ community, and Cameron is in their crosshairs.

 

 

 

Buy Links

 

Amazon US   Amazon UK


 

 

Excerpt

 

Ira supposed as he had many times, that his job wasn't much different than Cameron's. Cam of the golden brown hair and deep amber eyes. Cam who was so off limits that Ira shouldn't even be thinking his name. Too young, too smart, too quick to find Ira's soft spots. Ira'd had a moment of weakness and they'd a freakishly pleasant weekend together but he hadn't let it continue.

 

And, yeah, Ira couldn't stop himself from going to the Loft where Cam worked, but at least he hadn't gone home with him again. A win for the team.

 

The door burst open again and, shit, it was the kid from the other night. Ira should have known better, but Ira'd wanted company and he'd made himself very available. Too late Ira realized he had starry eye's and boyfriend practically tattooed on his forehead.

 

"Hey, Ira." He had his hands shoved in the back pockets of his jeans, his hips cocked in what he probably thought was a cute pose. At the Loft, Ira'd thought he was thirtyish. In daylight, he was adjusting that estimate down to barely twenty-one and cursing himself. Ira liked younger men, he enjoyed the enthusiasm, in bed and out, and their worldviews - so different than the scary gay-aids world of the 1980s and 90s that Ira had experienced first hand. The problem was not they were too young but that Ira was too old.

 

Ira searched his memory, they'd gone to the kid's apartment and had sex. Ira had left regardless of him telling Ira he could stay, he couldn't remember his name. Kevin? Shaun? No. Colin?

 

He finished cleaning another table then made his way to the front counter to help make drinks and dole out pastries. "Did you need something?" he asked Cary - he was sure of it - on his way by.

 

Cary's pale complexion flushed a rosy pink. "Oh, uh, not really," Ira could see him scrambling to come up with an excuse for having stopped by. "I was just in the neighborhood."

 

He walked behind the counter where the counter kid was staring at the influx of newcomers, "Sebastian you want to make drinks or take their money?"

 

"Uh," Sebastian stared at Ira through the thick lenses of his glasses, stalling out. Ira watched Cary leave without ordering anything. Wonderful, his reputation as a complete and utter asshole was untarnished.

 

"I'll do drinks," Ira said and pushed past Sebastian to get to the machine.

 

Ira should've asked Sara for the day off but he'd hoped an extra shift would keep him distracted, and anyway he had days ahead of him to brood. Nothing could distract Ira from the fact that this was the month that his father had been murdered nearly twenty years ago, and two years since his life fell apart a second time. Over two years since he'd talked to any of his remaining family. To Simon.

 

The squeal of the steam wand and hiss of the heads as hot water was forced through the portafilters lulled Ira into a kind of calm. He made several espresso drinks, chatting mindlessly with the uniformed cops who were waiting for their caffeine.

 

A familiar voice insinuated itself past his shell of serenity. Ira had to force himself not to turn toward the sound of Cameron McCulloch ordering a drink. Cameron was at the end of the line, saying hi to a cop standing in front of him. Ira snuck a look to see if he was with anyone. Cam waited, rocking back on his heels with his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, not talking to anyone else. On his own then.

 

As he often did, Cam had his long brown-blonde hair tied back in a messy knot. Ira supposed it was a man bun or whatever but on Cameron it was natural and incredibly sexy. Cameron had an air of friendliness, which probably came from being a bartender, or his naturally sweet personality. But he also had a sadness about him, an invisible cloak giving him a shadow. He hid it well, but Ira saw it. Was afraid to learn more about it, knowing that the more he knew the harder it would be to keep him at arms-length.

 

Cameron saw Ira glance over at him but didn't crack a smile. He acted like they didn't know each other. Yep, Ira was an asshole and a hypocrite. And maybe he didn't have to worry about keeping Cam at arms-length anymore. For reasons he didn't want to examine, he found the thought unsettling.

 

Cam claimed his Americano muttering a terse, "Thanks." Then he went and sat at the farthest open table from the front. Ira went back to what he was doing but he had Cameron radar. He knew exactly where Cameron was in the room and, exactly when another man came and sat down at his table.

 

Ira felt anger rise, hot and heavy. Cameron greeted the stranger with obvious pleasure, first a handshake before the other man pulled him into a hug. Was it unreasonable to expect that Cameron wouldn't meet dates where Ira worked? Hypocrite.

 

The line continued to grow, and Ira spent the next hour with his head down making coffees as quickly as he could. He knew when Cameron and his friend left and forced himself to focus on what he was doing, to not look up and watch the two of them leave together. He was the one who didn't want anything, who'd seen the compassion and caring in Cameron's eyes. He was the one who was broken and would make a nice guy like Cameron miserable in the long run.

Much later, after his extra-long shift at the Booking Room finally drew to a close, Ira half-heartedly tried to convince himself not to go to the Loft for a drink. It was a Friday though, and he had the next few days off. Cameron had shown up at his work, no reason he couldn't go to Cameron's.

 

Tomorrow he would quit showing up at the Loft, and stop picking up men young enough to be his kid. Stop thinking about Cameron McCulloch. The weekend they'd spent together. God. Ira was such a shit. Yeah and tomorrow he'd get his act together enough to pick up a paintbrush and actually do something with it.

 

Their weekend together had been incredible. Ira'd been relaxed, happy, comfortable with himself for the first time in years. He'd enjoyed the sex, of course, but he'd also soaked up the conversation, small touches, and Cameron's genuine caring personality. They'd binge-watched stupid TV shows and compared music playlists. Ira'd teased Cameron about his ratty collection of Jane Eyre novels until Cameron had pulled one from the shelf and started reading aloud to him. Jane Eyre was forever going to be on Ira's top ten.

 

They'd snuck out for food, Cameron's small refrigerator laid bare after a couple rounds in the sack, they'd both been ravenous. Pretending the weekend could turn into more had been far too easy for Ira to imagine. Which is why he'd ended it before it went too far. Ira was damaged goods, somehow Cameron would learn the truth about him. If he let Cameron in Ira didn't think he could knit himself back together again after he left.

Those two magical days had been a vacation from the unadulterated fuckery that was Ira's real life. When Sunday evening finally rolled around reality had set in. Ira'd messed up enough lives, he needed to make sure Cameron didn't think Ira was able to give him anything. So, he'd been an asshole. Yeah, Ira.

He rubbed his chest, it was like he had actual physical pain when he thought about what he had done and the pain he'd caused. He missed them both, so much. The tears caught him by surprise.

 

 

 

 

 

Author Interview

 

Howdy! Elle Keaton here, so glad you could have me aboard today.

 

How long do you write each day?

 

I write almost every day for about two hours. Sometimes I write a lot in those hours, sometimes I stare out the window. Sometimes two hours is spread throughout the day depending on how many interruptions I get. On the weekends I try to carve out a little more time usually at least four hours. But I also do promo and make handy little media posts during that time.

 

What do you do if you get a brilliant idea at a bad time?

 

Is there such a thing as a bad time for a good idea? If I am in the middle of something else I usually free write a little and make notes. I am the queen of post-it notes being absolutely everywhere. If I add in my Ideas I Do Not Have Time For I probably have about five or six more books floating around waiting like planes at a busy airport.

 

What was one of the most surprising things you’ve learned in writing your books?

 

Well – I’ve learned to write better. I think I am a better writer with each book. I am so glad I took the chance to publish my first one, I knew it wasn’t perfect but I did it anyway!

 

What was the hardest part of writing this book?

 

Two things made this book difficult. One, about halfway through Unforgivable my fiancé’s mom passed away. This wasn’t unexpected but it was still hard on everyone. She was truly wonderful and gasp actually read several of my books! Two, Ira was a pain in the butt. He really just wanted to wallow in his misery but his love interest just wouldn’t leave him alone. I tried to pair Cam with someone else but he wasn’t having it.

 

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

 

Funny thing. I wanted to be a writer. But, there was a part of my family that was always ‘oooh, looky you’re so nice and caring’….My Grams called me nurse Nancy, so I thought about nursing school. There was another side of my family the ‘intellectual side’ who was all ‘ideas ideas’ and the fact that I wanted to write romance and fantasy….I never could bring myself to admit it. True facts my dad is an artist, poet and speaks fluent Chinese, it’s very difficult to live up to that and so I didn’t. I messed around, finally graduating with a BS in biology. Never did anything with it and now I’m writing and VERY HAPPY.

 

Were you a voracious reader as a child?

 

In a word, yes!

 

What was the first book that made you cry?

 

Probably Black Beauty. I was maybe in the 4th grade? Completely lost it. I am a huge animal lover – even if horses aren’t my favorite.

 

What are some day jobs that you have held? If any of them impacted your writing, share an example.

 

I’m a jack-of-all-trades and master of none…I have: been a camp counselor, I worked at my parents jewelry store, worked at several bookstores, worked pea harvest in Eastern Washington, I was a bartender for years, also tossed pizza for a while, pulled coffee, a housing appraiser, lots of retail…there’s stuff I am forgetting for real (I’m also a mom).

The variety of jobs I have held allow me to write with some authority about what my characters are up to. I’ve never actually used a specific experience from work but I’ve definitely used my experience to make the story more realistic.

 

What are you working on now, and when can we expect it?

 

Of course I am working on the next in the Accidental Roots series, that’s a given. I think I have about four more to write there. The Super Exciting Big News is that I am a third to halfway through my first Urban Fantasy/romance – it is mm and set in the Pacific Northwest, and I’m planning for it to be a three book series. I am having a blast working on it. At this point Codex Obscura is scheduled for the end of June, *squints at the calendar*, which may not be possible but I tend to do my best work under impossible deadlines – even if I set them myself.

 

EK

 

Thank you so much for having me!

 

 

 

Giveaway

 

One lucky winner will receive a n eBook copy of “As Sure As the Sun,” book four in Elle’s “Accidental Roots” series. Enter via Rafflecopter for a chance to win.

 

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Author Bio

 

Author/imaginator & photographer (also rare Pacific Northwest Native), Elle grew up in Seattle, WA., with the Cascade Mountain range to the east and Olympics to the west.

 

Elle shares her life with between three to five cats (depending on who's counting), an extremely patient fiancé and a flock of young adults. She’s lived in four US states, London England, and Hong Kong; always knows what time it is, and has little problem finding parking even in the most difficult places.

 

Elle's series made its debut spring of 2017. Accidental Roots is set in the Skagit Valley of Western Washington. Writing has always been a passion but not something she was able to take seriously until recently. Some journeys are longer than others. Now her head is full of ideas and not enough time in each day. As far as we know she wasn't actually raised by wolves.

 

 Releases On Friday May 18, 2018,

 
Length: 45,000 words approx.


Cover Design: Melanie Harlow @ Clause & Effect

The Rowan Harbor Cycle Series
Book #3 - Fox and Birch
 
 
 
Blurb

Devon Murphy has been back in Rowan Harbor for three months. He’s taken on a host of new responsibilities, and is in a serious relationship for the first time in his life. He loves the town and its inhabitants, but it’s starting to feel like too much for the former drifter.

Now there’s a storm on the horizon, and it doesn’t seem like things are going to slow down and let him catch his breath. A blizzard is brewing, and three people have gone missing in the woods south of town. Devon needs to find them before time runs out.


This book is the fourth of nine in The Rowan Harbor Cycle, not a standalone. Devon and Wade will return in book seven for their HEA.

 

 

Excerpt
Standing next to Annie Anderson as she inspected his knitting, Devon felt like he was waiting for a teacher to grade a test he already knew he’d failed. Every time he thought he was getting the hang of knitting, he made a mess of something.

“I’m honestly not sure what you did here, honey. You’ve got the same number of stitches, but that cable just isn’t right.” She held it up toward the overhead light and peered at the half-made sock.


He could make a plain row with his eyes closed, but whenever he tried the cable pattern, the result was twisted and gnarled, all sharp edges and wrong angles instead of smooth, intertwined curves.


She set the sock down on the counter and smiled at him. “I have an idea. Why don’t we just change the pattern? Play to your strengths, that’s what I always say.”


Salli, coming up behind her, snorted. “No, you always say face your fears and embrace the steek.”


“I have no idea what that means,” Devon told them, sighing and leaning on the counter. “Am I totally hopeless?”


Annie ruffled his hair. There weren’t many people in town he would accept that from, but Annie Anderson was . . . well, she was about the only one. Maybe Madame Cormier, the venerable witch on the town council, but he doubted the serious, dignified lady would be interested in ruffling his hair.


“You’re fine,” Annie said, and rested her hand on his. “This is all new to you, but you’re learning fast. You’ll get there. It just takes time.”


The intense look she gave him implied she was talking about more than knitting, but Devon wasn’t sure he wanted to ask what she meant.


“It looks kind of cool, even if it’s wrong, like tree roots or vines or something,” Salli observed as she took a bite of the apple she was carrying and leaned across the counter toward Devon. “You’re not staying for knit night, are you?”


That made him frown. “Why not? You guys don’t want me here?”


He’d thought he was getting better at handling the shop’s busiest night of the week. There were always dozens of people, coffee and tea, snacks—heck, sometimes people even brought wine—and at first, the night had been a little overwhelming. Running a shop packed with people was a lot of work, especially when they all wanted to ask questions about merchandise he was still learning himself.


But he was getting the hang of the job, or so he’d believed.


Annie and Salli were looking at him like he was the biggest idiot ever born.


“What?”


Annie sighed, shook her head, and looked over at Salli. “How much do you want to bet he hasn’t done anything?”


“How much of a sucker do you think I am?” Salli asked with a snort and took another bite of her apple.


“Devon, honey, do you know what day it is?” Annie asked.


“Um, Wednesday?”


Salli picked up his weirdly cabled sock with the hand that wasn’t holding the apple, inspecting the row of stitches. “Wednesday,” she agreed. “Wednesday, February . . .”


He took a second of mental calculation to place the date. It wasn’t as though he had a schedule that forced him to pay close attention to that. So it was Wednesday, February—


“Fourteenth,” he answered. Then he realized what they were getting at. “Oh, come on you guys. Valentine’s Day? As much as I like chocolate, why would I be interested in a candy-industry holiday?”


The two women shared another look before Salli leaned in toward Annie. “Maybe you were wrong about him getting the hang of this.”


Annie shook her head, resolute. “Absolutely not. He just needs time.” She took the sock from Salli and stuffed it into the bag where Devon was keeping it, along with the cake of gray yarn. “And right now, he needs to go upstairs and put on nice clothes.”


“Do what?”


They both stared at him.


“But why? I mean, it’s not like Wade and I have anything planned.”


Neither woman said a word.


He sighed and turned to stomp off toward the stairs to his apartment. “Fine, I’ll put on different clothes. But if Wade asks why I’m all dressed up, I’m blaming you two.”


All the way up the stairs, he muttered to himself about interfering friends and small-town gossip. His boyfriend wasn’t into hearts and flowers. Wade was a serious guy, and when he wasn’t being serious, he still wasn’t the romantic type. The lack of romance didn’t bother Devon. He was comfortable with Wade not being over-the-top romantic.


Sure, everyone wanted to know they were valued, but Wade was good at telling Devon that without words or chocolates. It was there in the way his face lit up when he saw Devon at the end of a long day, or his pleased sigh when they woke up spooned together. It was definitely there in the way Wade made them breakfast on Thursday mornings. Wade was enough without some day invented by capitalism to sell heart-themed merchandise.


But if it would please Salli and Annie, he would change clothes. He toed his shoes off as he passed the doorway, then tossed his T-shirt and jeans in the hamper as he passed it. Halfway into the walk-in closet, he turned and stripped off his plain white briefs, adding them to the dirty clothes. If he was going to go to the trouble of dressing up, he might as well put on nice underwear too.


Twenty minutes later, he was examining the results in the mirror. All black except for a dark red button-down, and he just might have found a pair of underwear to match the shirt. His auburn hair was still a mess, but nothing ever fixed that. People always seemed to think it was an intentional mess, so he didn’t worry about it.


Instead of slipping his sneakers back on, he decided on a pair of black boots. They weren’t much nicer, but he didn’t own a truly fancy pair of shoes. He hadn’t ever had the money for that.


He glanced over to the window to check the sky, not even sure why he’d bothered. It was the same as it had been for almost two weeks: gray and threatening. It felt ominous, but he’d never spent a February in Rowan Harbor before, so maybe it was normal. No one else seemed bothered, so he was trying to keep his concern to himself.


He didn’t want to be the guy who went around asking, “Cold enough for you?”


When he got back down to the shop, Salli and Annie were still standing at the counter, and they turned to examine him. Annie twirled her finger to indicate that he should turn around. Confirming the fact that Annie was a creature of pure magic, Devon complied without complaint.


No, he didn’t think she’d magically forced him to turn around. He just hated the idea of disappointing her, so he did what she wanted.


“It’s passable,” Salli said, her tone grudging, as though she thought he could have done much better.


Annie walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “I think you look very nice, dear. I don’t know why your hair won’t lie flat, but I suppose that’s the way people like it.”


He shrugged but didn’t answer.


“Jeez, look like you’re headed for your own execution, why don’t you?” Salli asked. “It’s Valentine’s Day. It’s not like he’s going to take you out for fried grasshoppers or something.”


Devon scrunched up his nose. “Do they serve that?”


Salli shrugged but then nodded. “Somewhere, no doubt. I mean, it’s all protein, right? But nowhere in Rowan Harbor that I know of.”


“You’ll make the boy nervous, Salli,” Annie told her, waving her off. “I’m sure Wade knows his taste well enough to feed him. And if I remember correctly, Wade’s quite the cook.”


He looked between the two of them and shook his head. “I’d promise not to say I told you so, but I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.” Sometimes it would be convenient to lie, he thought. It was a recurring theme in his wishes, but there were worse things than being known for telling the truth.


The two of them ignored the admission of impending rudeness and fussed over his hair for a minute.


“That’s even worse,” Annie said with a sigh, stepping back.


Salli gave a sharp nod. “Perfect.”


He was about to open his mouth to once again tell them that they were crazy, but the electronic bell over the door jingled, and they all turned to look.


It was Wade, looking windblown and gorgeous. He was wearing date clothes too, a white button-down and pinstripe trousers. That wasn’t so shocking; Wade dressed up when he intended to go out for dinner.


But . . .


In one hand, Wade held a long-stemmed red rose. In the other was a picnic basket.


Part of Devon wanted to groan. Salli and Annie had been right, and how did they know Wade better than him? Never mind the fact that they had spent decades around the man and he hadn’t; weren’t he and Wade supposed to be some sort of fated soul mates? How had he not seen this coming a mile off?


It wasn’t too hard to admit, if only to himself, that most of him thought it was adorable and endearing. Wade had made a picnic.


Wait.


“It’s February, Wade,” he said. “It’s going to snow.”


Everyone in earshot groaned, including a lady sitting halfway across the shop who had been engrossed in her knitting. She pushed her project into her bag and stood. “I guess I’d better get to the grocery store and pick up some essentials in case it gets bad.”


Salli leaned back against the counter. “Should we cancel knit night?”


“Please,” Devon said with a roll of his eyes. “People would show up for knit night if there were an earthquake currently happening. Worst comes to worst and you can’t get home, you can sleep on the bordello sofa. It’s comfy.”


Annie quirked an eyebrow. “Bordello sofa?”


Normally Devon didn’t explain the sofa, but the exchange with Annie reminded him that she was older than his grandmother. Bordello wasn’t a word he used in conversation with his elders, and his cheeks heated at having to explain. “That was what Mom called it. I’m sure it was never—”


Annie waved him off. “I get it. Now, since you shouldn’t be going out, you two should go sit on your bordello sofa and eat the lovely meal I’m sure Wade has made for you. Shoo, off you go.”


Wade gave him a shy smile and held up the basket. “A picnic in your apartment okay?”


Devon couldn’t say no. Not because he didn’t want to disappoint Wade—he couldn’t even lie to spare Wade’s feelings—but he found that, surprisingly enough, he kind of wanted to eat a picnic in his apartment.


He was glad he’d changed clothes. Salli winked at him as they headed toward the stairs, and even though he knew she was going to give him hell later, he was grateful to have her as a friend.


“Everything okay?” Wade asked, his voice tinged with a nervousness that Devon wasn’t used to hearing from him.


He looped his arm through Wade’s. “Yeah, I think so. Unexpected, maybe, but just fine.”
 
 
 
About The Author

Sam wrote her first fantasy epic with her best friend when she was ten. Like almost any epic fiction written by a ten year old, it was awful. She likes to think she’s improved since then, if only because she has better handwriting now.


If she’s not writing, she’s almost certainly either reading or lost down a wikipedia rabbit hole while pretending to research for a novel.
 
 
 
Giveaway
 

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Hosted By Signal Boost Promotions
 

 

Author: Kim Fielding

Publisher: self

Release Date: Monday, May 7 2018

Format: ebook

Price: 1.99

Story Type: novella

Word Count: 34K

Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Genres: paranormal, historical, Romance

Pairings: m/m

Tropes: Frankenstein? Lovable monster? It's really not tropey

Keywords/Categories: gay, noir

 

 

 

 

About the Book:

 

Alone in a cell and lacking memories of his past, John has no idea who—or what—he is.

 

Alone on the streets of 1950s Los Angeles, Harry has far too many memories of his painful past and feels simply resignation in facing his empty future.

 

When Harry is given a chance to achieve his only dream—to become an agent with the Bureau of Trans-Species Affairs—all he has to do is prove his worth. Yet nothing has ever come easy for him. Now he must offer himself and John as bait, enticing a man who wants to conquer death. But first he and John must learn what distinguishes a monster from a man—and what a monster truly wants.

 

 

Preorder "Creature" Now From Amazon

 

 

Giveaway:

 

One lucky winner will get an audiobook copy of “Ante Up,” Kim’s Czech vampire tale, and an eBook copy of the first two books in “The Bureau” series – Corruption” and Clay White.” Enter via Rafflecopter.

 

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Excerpt:

 

 

John savored every page of the book, which told a story of soldiers stationed in Hawaii as a war with the Japanese began. He didn’t know anything about such a war, so he couldn’t tell whether the tale was true. And with Frankensteinas his only comparison, he couldn’t tell whether this was a goodbook. But he enjoyed it very much because it was his and because he’d been granted the great luxury of reading it.

 

One luxury among many, of course. He also had comfortable surroundings, nice clothing over a clean body, and the joy of seeing a great many wonders he’d only imagined. And he had Harry, who’d never once hurt him or made him feel like anything less than a man.

 

Ah, but John was nota man. When he finished the book and sat in the comforting puddle of lamplight, he again faced some painful truths and their corresponding questions.

 

What use did Harry intend to make of him? What would happen to John once Harry was done? Those were the practical questions. But more fundamentally, he wondered what it meant to be a monster. When he wore clothes, read books, conducted conversations, was he only fooling himself? Did he actually possess human qualities? What if he, like Frankenstein’s monster, turned murderous in the end?

 

And what did he want? What driving force kept him animate in a lifeless body? He thought he might know the answers to those questions, but the answers were far too uncomfortable to face. Perhaps that made him a coward.

 

Lost in contemplation, he startled when the front door opened. A moment later, Harry came stumbling into the room with his coat poorly buttoned, his hat askew, and a carrier with six brown bottles grasped in one hand. His cheeks looked ruddier than usual; his eyes, usually soft and warm, appeared dull and flat. “You’re still here,” he said.

 

“You told me to stay.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Harry left the room for a few minutes, although John could hear him rummaging in kitchen drawers. When he returned, he’d shed the coat and hat, and he held one of the brown bottles. He collapsed heavily onto the couch before taking a long draw. “Blah,” he said, face twisted in disgust. “The Irish coffee was better.” But he drank more anyway.

 

After some time passed, Harry sighed. “What’d you do tonight?”

 

“I read one of the books you gave me. Harry, was there really a war with the Japanese?”

 

“Yeah. Germans too. My Uncle Jimmy died in it.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Yeah. I liked him.” He sniffed. “You don’t remember that war?”

 

“I know of… the Great War. That was against the Germans, I think.”

 

“That was over forty years ago. World War Two ended eight years ago. Now we’re fighting in Korea instead.”

 

John shook his head in confusion. There was so much he didn’t understand. During the silence, Harry drained his bottle. He left the room and returned to the couch with a full one.

 

“I’ll prob’ly be sick in the morning,” he said thoughtfully. “I used to think the word hangoverwas kind of scary. Made me think of a corpse hanging from a noose.” He glanced quickly at John and then away.

 

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

 

“No.”

 

Maybe if John were a real person, he’d know what to do. He understood that something distressed Harry but had no idea what, or what actions he should take. It was possible that John himself was the cause of Harry’s misery. Surely it was repugnant to spend time so close to a monster. John worried about Harry—and worried about himself as well. Harry had brought him so much freedom and happiness. What would become of John if Harry abandoned him?

 

Harry held his half-empty bottle aloft, peering into the liquid depths. “Do you s’pose there’s demons in there?”

“Demons?”

 

“Townsend said that one demon keeps his ex-agent from going wild, so I guess maybe some demons ain’t so bad. Unless Townsend lied.”

 

Unable to make sense of this, John simply listened.

 

After taking another swig, Harry wedged the bottle between his thighs and stared down at it. “Mama used to tell us that Daddy was a good man. She said the Devil got into him during the Depression, when Daddy lost his job at the feed store and we were poor as dirt. When he— Those things he did, those weren’t really him, she told us. They were the Devil’s work. If we all prayed real hard, Jesus would chase the Devil away.” He looked at John. “We went to church every Sunday and said our prayers every night. But Jesus never did nothing.”

Those things he did. John’s otherwise faulty mind easily supplied him with possibilities about what those things might have been. His memories, it seemed, included a catalogue of cruel actions a man might visit upon his family.

 

“I never drank before tonight,” Harry said. “I didn’t want to swallow the Devil. But maybe now I have.”

John moved the Hawaii book from his lap to the little table beside him and slowly pushed himself to his feet. His legs felt unsteady, and although it required tremendous effort to walk the few steps to the couch, he made it without falling. After kneeling on the floor near Harry’s legs, John looked steadily into his eyes. “I don’t think there’s anything evil about you.”

 

Harry shook his head. “You don’t know that. I’m…. Everyone’s always said I’m worthless, but they ain’t exactly right. I could do a whole lot of bad if I wanted to. Maybe if I keep drinking, I’ll want to.”

 

“Then don’t drink.”

 

Anger flashed across Harry’s face, and John braced himself for a punch. But then Harry sighed and rubbed his own chin. “I lied to you.”

 

“About what?”

 

“You asked me if you were good… before. And I said yeah.”

 

“I wasn’t?” John was grateful he had the strength to keep his voice steady.

 

“I don’t know. I have no idea who the hell you were before you… before you died. You coulda been a mobster for all I know. A murderer. Maybe you deserve everything they done to you.”

 

Although John swayed on his knees, he didn’t fall. And he didn’t pull his gaze away from Harry. “Maybe I do,” he whispered. “But I doubt you deserve whatever your father did to you.”

 

Harry paled and blinked his eyes rapidly. Then, moving slowly like a very old man, he stood. “Going to bed,” he muttered. He shuffled away, the bottle still in his hand.

 

 

Author Bio:

 

Kim Fielding is the bestselling, award-winning author of numerous m/m romance novels, novellas, and short stories. Like Kim herself, her work is eclectic, spanning genres such as contemporary, fantasy, paranormal, and historical. Her stories are set in alternate worlds, in 15th century Bosnia, in modern-day Oregon.

Her heroes are hipster architect werewolves, housekeepers, maimed giants, and conflicted graduate students. They’re usually flawed, they often encounter terrible obstacles, but they always find love.

After having migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States, Kim calls the boring part of California home. She lives there with her husband, her two daughters, and her day job as a university professor, but escapes as often as possible via car, train, plane, or boat. This may explain why her characters often seem to be in transit as well. She dreams of traveling and writing full-time.

 

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The Accidental Master

 

 

 

Title: Accidental Master

Author: M A Innes

Publisher:  Self Published

Published: May 4th 2018

Pages:  203

Genre: BDSM, Roleplay, Romance, Puppy Play

 

 

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Blurb:

 

 

One accident has turned Jackson’s life completely upside down.

When Jackson’s sister inadvertently posts an ad for a puppy play book instead of his dog training business, his inbox explodes with the most interesting emails he’s ever seen. In a sea of kink that he’s never even considered, one sweet letter stands out. It’s polite and earnest, and something about the two men’s words touches him in a way he never expected…but they’re not just looking for a lover…they’re looking for a master.

If finding a master for one pup was hard, finding a master who wanted two was almost impossible.

Cooper and Sawyer know that they have a better chance of winning the lottery than meeting the man of their dreams. Mature, sweet, dominant masters don’t just drop out of the sky…and when they add in the fact that they’re looking for a man who will love them both, the odds are astronomical. When they see Jackson’s ad online, Cooper couldn’t be more excited. He’s confident that the mysterious man who hints at being a master will be perfect for them. Sawyer, on the other hand, isn’t so sure that everything will go the way Cooper imagines, but saying no to Cooper is like stopping an excitable, well-meaning train. However, when Jackson actually responds to their email, suddenly the impossible seems to be right within their grasp.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Excerpt #1

 

“He’s a real dog trainer?” Cooper blinked at me and turned to read the email again. “Like real dogs?”

“Evidently.” Part of me wanted to laugh. Maybe it wasn’t the right response, but knowing that he wasn’t rejecting us because of anything personal was a relief. We weren’t dogs. We liked to pretend we were puppies, but no amount of pretending would magically change that.

 

Cooper clearly wasn’t sure what to think. He kept glancing back and forth between the screen and me. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

 

“Me neither.” The initial Facebook ad had come up in some groups we belonged to, and it had been worded a little weirdly, but it’d looked interesting, so we’d thought we’d try.

 

“I guess we need to do more research next time.” Cooper was still frustrated, but his growing smile showed that his normal cheer was starting to push its way to the surface. “He must have been shocked. It sounds like we weren’t the only people who contacted him. Can you imagine how horrified he probably was?”

 

Copper giggled and relaxed his head on my shoulder. “He was very polite, though.”

 

“He has a real business, so he doesn’t want to look bad.” The last thing the guy wanted was angry, kinky people raising hell online.

Shaking his head, Cooper pointed to the screen. “It’s more than that. He said we’re a cute couple and that someone else would’ve loved to have met us.”

 

Okay, so that was more than a polite rejection. “We are cute.” Cooper laughed, so I kept going. “Maybe we’re so cute we turned him gay.”

 

Giggling, Cooper nodded. “Maybe we’ve turned him gay and made him curious about being a master?”

I had to smile. “We probably turned him gay, but he’s going to be a pup too.”

 

Cooper groaned and turned his face into my neck. “Now you’ve jinxed us. I’m going to blame it on you if he turns out to be another new pup too.”

 

 

Excerpt #2

 

Sawyer looked over at me and grinned. “And this is why he needs a spanking on a regular basis. I’m going to hear about the stupid pancakes for days.”

 

Cooper nodded, clearly enthusiastic about the plan. As soon as he swallowed, though, he threw Sawyer under the bus too. “And that snarky comment is why he needs a spanking on a regular basis too. He’s much more relaxed after. And being a pup more—”

 

Sawyer shoved a fry into Cooper’s mouth.

 

I tried not to laugh and ended up coughing into my napkin like I was choking. I couldn’t decide if Cooper said stuff without thinking, or if he loved getting a reaction, but I was leaning toward the latter.

 

His I’m-so-innocent smile was just too perfect most of the time.

 

“One day he’s just going to throw something at you.” I was expecting them to laugh, but Sawyer blushed a wonderful purple color and Cooper started to nod.

 

What the hell had they done?

 

“He threw his tail at me. Do you know how hard it is to explain away a bruise that looks like a dick?” Cooper was so earnest and matter-of-fact, I was shocked.

 

I started coughing and couldn’t catch my breath. They were the funniest people I’d ever met. Sawyer was trying so hard to be calm and not let anyone see how nervous he was, and Cooper was bouncy and open and honest to a fault most of the time.

 

Especially when it would drive Sawyer crazy.

 

“Why did you throw your tail at him?” I was very proud of myself for not stumbling over that question.

Sawyer’s coloring hadn’t gone back to normal, and his head fell back, so he was staring up at the ceiling. “I wasn’t trying to throw it at him. He was going on and on about something, and I was frustrated and started talking with my hands, and the damn thing went flying.”

 

Then his head came up, and he stared at Cooper, his voice dropping low. “And stop saying it looked like a dick. It did not.”

 

Cooper snorted. “It did too. It looked like your cock slapped into my thigh so hard it left a bruise.”

Lord, they were a handful.

 

But so perfect, I couldn’t help wanting to gather them in my arms. Cooper seemed to be craving a firm hand to help him settle down. Sawyer was a little harder to read, but all I wanted to do was hold him and tell him it was okay to let himself surrender.

 

 

 

 

 

Author Bio

 

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.

 

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Cover Design: Aaron Anderson

Length: 59,473 words

Ashville Arcana Series
 
 
Blurb

The magic touch.

Ever since Harlan Edgewood was bitten by a possessed werewolf, his monthly shifts have been agonizing. When he meets Whimsy Hickes—a mage who specializes in transformation—the attraction is mutual. But Harlan believes his curse is too great a burden to inflict on any romantic partner.

Fortunately, Whimsy thinks he can help.

When Harlan is provoked into an unexpected change, Whimsy uses his magic to help ease Harlan’s pain, but with an unexpected consequence. While he’s shifted, Harlan’s wolf claims Whimsy as his mate.

As they draw closer, suspicious events in the Asheville magical community escalate. Shifters are disappearing, others are murdered, and Harlan’s curse makes him an obvious target. It will take all of Whimsy’s magic to force back the rising evil—and if he fails, Harlan will lose not only his life, but his very soul.

 

 

 
 

Ari McKay is the professional pseudonym for Arionrhod and McKay, who have been writing together for over a decade. Their collaborations encompass a wide variety of romance genres, including contemporary, fantasy, science fiction, gothic, and action/adventure. Their work includes the Blood Bathory series of paranormal novels, the Herc’s Mercs series, as well as two historical Westerns: Heart of Stone and Finding Forgiveness. When not writing, they can often be found scheming over costume designs or binge watching TV shows together.

Arionrhod is a systems engineer by day who is eagerly looking forward to (hopefully) becoming a full time writer in the not-too-distant future. Now that she is an empty-nester, she has turned her attentions to finding the perfect piece of land to build a fortress in preparation for the zombie apocalypse, and baking (and eating) far too many cakes.

McKay is an English teacher who has been writing for one reason or another most of her life. She also enjoys knitting, reading, cooking, and playing video games. She has been known to knit in public. Given she has the survival skills of a gnat, she’s relying on Arionrhod to help her survive the zombie apocalypse.

 


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