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New Audiobook – Tristan by S. Legend

AUDIOBOOK OUT NOW

Book Title: Tristan

Author: S. Legend

Publisher: S Legend Fiction

Narrator: Curtis Michael

Release Date: November 24, 2021

Genre:  Arranged Marriage M/M Romance, fantasy

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, age gap

Themes: Self-discovery, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames     

Length: 9 hours    

It is not a standalone story. Tristan is book one of the Tristan Trilogy. The story ends on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Audiobook Out Now

Audible US  |  Audible UK

Also available in Kindle Unlimited, Hardback and Paperback

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK  

 

An alliance forged through marriage.  The cost?  One Man’s dream.

 

Blurb 

An alliance forged through marriage.  The cost?  One Man’s dream.

Tristan dreams of the day he’ll succeed his father as the next Warlord of Markaytia.  Elves—creatures famous for their darker passions and tantalizing culture—approach the Markaytian king with an offer he can’t refuse: an alliance with the Elves for the one Tristan Kanes. 

Tristan is forced to give up his dream. 

He’s not thrilled, but Tristan is a man of duty above all else.  What choice does he have?  He cannot refuse the king or Markaytia. He begrudgingly comes to terms with the arranged marriage. Is he a tad sour about it?  Yes, but he’ll get over it.  

Probably.

Maybe it won’t be so bad.  Elves have cool weapons, maybe he’ll get one? 

Corrik bans him from cool weapons.

Corrik’s seen Tristan’s gruesome death on the point of a sword in a prophetic vision.  He bans Tristan from picking up a sword ever again.  Tristan wants to accept the marriage with grace to make his people proud, but he resents Corrik for his remorseless attitude over his life’s work.

Facing the Ice Prince and himself.

Tristan’s conflict follows him on the journey to the mysterious Elven land of Mortouge.  He hates Corrik for taking him from the life he loved, boy does he, but his new Elven husband is an enigma and he’s captivated.  He sets Tristan’s blood on fire and freezes it at the same time.  Corrik unravels Tristan’s true nature and despite his best efforts, Tristan falls for his ice prince. 

But Corrik won’t bend.

Corrik wants to be obeyed.  He’s demanding and possessive.  He’s overbearingly protective. 

Can these two find a suitable compromise?  Or will Tristan’s resentment and Corrik’s arrogance ruin forever their chance at love?

Tristan by Mock (S. Legend) is a gay romance fantasy featuring enemies-to-lovers vibes, an age gap, arranged marriage, first times, and a happy ending (um, eventually). This is the first action-adventure romance in the Tristan Trilogy.  Mock may have written it down, but truly it’s told by your lovable host, Tristan Kanes.  He’s funny, sarcastic and while it may not seem it at times, he’s the real person in charge of this story.

 

Excerpt

Hi. I’m Tristan Kanes. At least I was once upon a time. Tomorrow, who knows who I’m going to be? But I digress. I’m getting ahead of myself as usual. I’ll back up a bit. I thought it would be a good idea to attempt to run away from my destiny, but destiny tends to follow a person.

I’ve reached the upper ridges of Markaytia’s North Wood and I’ve been gone for several hours. Lucca will come after me soon. I creep to the edge of the plateau and look out to her, to Markaytia. Tomorrow, I’m to marry an Elven Prince. I know it sounds luxurious, every boy’s dream and all, but it isn’t that simple.

I must give up my entire life for this man.

It’s not long before I hear footsteps I recognize behind me. I’m certain of whom it is. I don’t even turn to look, until the tree branch pokes into my back.

He wants to fight me today, does he? I jump up with lightning speed, conditioned from the day I could stand on two feet and because I always take reconnaissance of my surroundings, I know there is a stick for me to use against him, two feet away. I snatch it up and take a defensive stance against my assassin. I strike, slice, slash, pierce, and segment his pathetic battle strategy—well, pathetic against mine. My cousin is a formidable swordsman—I outsmart him at every turn with my dexterous footwork and accom‐ plished foresight.

We’ve fought in many battles since the time we were fifteen and trained together from almost the moment we sprang from the womb—it’s in our blood. Peace is a warrior’s mission, yet in succeeding, he renders himself useless. It makes him no less driven to battle. Peace is a fleeting season, even for Markaytia, and I sense that this season of peace has had its turn and war is on the horizon. Either way, everywhere is dangerous now and the people need protection. War will continue to happen whether I want it to or not and when it does, I want to be the one leading the troops.

Now to convince my husband-to-be of that.

 

About the Author 

Some of you know her as Mock, others as S. Legend, or Miss S.  She welcomes all names but will often go by Mock, a name given to her by her readers.

Mock is an ambitious creative, weaving the most precious aspects of her soul into stories.  She is an architect, building fascinating worlds, designed from inquiry, rooted in worldly wonderings.  It’s an intuitive process where she is the scribe, the translator, the conduit. 

It helped that storytelling was the language spoken at home.  One simply didn’t say, “We have an ant infestation. ” In Mock’s family it was, “I was on my way to the living room, when a peculiar ant crossed my path.  I looked to my right, a suspicious line of them marched toward the pantry.  In that moment I knew; my kitchen was under siege.”  The natural flow of conversation always took this form.  

And so. 

When Mock wrote her first novel, she didn’t plan it chapter by chapter, there was no outline, no “plotting” to speak of.  But she didn’t “pants” it either, she didn’t make it up as she went along.  She knew how the story felt, where it curved in places and hollowed in others; she knew the destination it rushed toward.  Instead of orchestrating, she let the world inspire her, and held space for the words to come, trusting the characters knew what they were doing.  All she had to do was tell a story, as she always had done; like breathing.  

This is her peace, her healing and solace: Gifts better shared.

Mock’s works are the comfort you seek when you need to come home.  Her unique writing style will take you, wayfaring reader, to unexpected destinations. 

She always says, “I’m not in the business of making up stories, I couldn’t if I tried.  I’m lucky enough to get picked to share someone else’s story when I ask a question to the universe.  Someone answers; I write it down.” 

 

 

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Newsletter Sign-up: Can either sign up at the website or email

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About the Narrator

Curtis Michael is a worldly creative and proud member of the LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities. Having traveled and taught drama overseas for upwards of the past decade, he has somewhat recently taken up voice acting and narration. You’ll hear some of the flavourings of his experience in the Tristan audiobook, as the characters are wildly inspired from not only the world of Tristan, but also Curtis’ different cultural encounters. With two dogs, two cats and a Corrik of his own, Curtis currently resides in Southeast Asia. He can be found on the many beaches or secluded in his vocal booth poring over juicy stories at every chance he gets.

Website  |  Instagram

 

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Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26) by Jessamyn Kingley

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: December 9, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes:  Enemies to lovers, fated mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 96 664 words

It is not a standalone story, but does not end on a cliffhanger.

Check out the D’vaire Series on Goodreads

 

Demons are expected to hate the Imperian, but what if he’s your mate?

 

Blurb

Praetor Sashati Soriandras is adjusting to his wonderful new life as part of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. His new leader’s choice to leave the demonic realm gained Sashati’s immediate approval. There is nothing there but dark memories and a horrible legend about the butcher who ripped magic from the demons a millennium ago.

After being banished to a tiny realm, Imperian Paszratorabiel—or Paszra, as he prefers to be called—is waiting for his wings to grow back. The minute he recovers, Paszra hunts for a place to bring his family so they can find mates. When Paszra finds a planet full of interesting beings, the presence of demons is the only thing he hates about his potential new home.

When Sashati and Paszra meet, neither man is happy to learn they are mates. The demons blame Paszra for everything, while the Imperian despises Sashati’s people. However, they share a tradition of not denying Fate. But to honor the way their souls are connected, Paszra and Sashati must overcome much more than their initial dislike of each other.

 

About the Author 

 

Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.

Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

Visit her website 

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

 

Social Media Links

  Facebook |   Twitter  |   Pinterest  |  Facebook 

 

 

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Mongrel by Lee Colgin #kindleunlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Mongrel

Author: Lee Colgin

Publisher: Colgin Enterprise

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: November 18, 2021

Genre: MM Paranormal Romance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length:  76 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

A misfit wolf

A guilt-ridden vampire

A chilling mystery

 

Blurb  

Mongrel, a creature more wolf than man, leads a lonely life on the fringes of pack society—until the night a handsome vampire shows up with a mysterious request.

Bowie—a vampire cursed to a life of endless nights—maintains close ties with his human family. When young girls in their village go missing, he must act quickly. But to find them, he’ll need to convince the local werewolf pack to loan him their best tracker—a wolf known as the Mongrel.

Though he hates the slur, Andras is used to being called Mongrel. When Bowie refuses to refer to him by anything but his given name, Andras can’t help a flicker of unexpected trust toward the stranger. He volunteers to help Bowie, risking banishment.

Can two tender-hearted men overcome their traumatic pasts and work together to rescue the girls before it’s too late? Or will the world’s most prolific killer snuff the flames of their passion along with the lives of her captives?

***

This steamy love story spans the country of Hungary as Andras and Bowie journey through cities and wilderness on their quest to right a killer’s wicked wrongs. Mongrel features a sweetly possessive werewolf, a cinnamon roll of a vampire, and the worst serial killer in history. A surprisingly fluffy MM Paranormal/Historical Romance considering the subject matter.   

HEA guaranteed with loads of laughs along the way and no cliffhanger ending!

 

 

Excerpt 

The Kingdom of Hungary, 1610

I watch the ground pass by beneath my paws rather than risk meeting the eyes of the other wolves. They probably aren’t looking anyway, having better things to do than greet the mongrel, even on a full moon. I’ve spent so long pretending not to care it’s almost worked. Who needs them? Not me.

I give a full-body shake to settle my fur how I like it and amble toward the heart of the village, a cool night breeze keeping me company. The chattering of insects pings from the forest beyond a row of humble cottages as I continue past.

Anticipating tonight’s run has me eager. I imagine the frantic heartbeat of my prey as I target my dinner. Pent-up energy dances in my muscles, tickling every nerve and rumbling in my chest.

I love the hunt. Nothing else in my life brings the satisfaction I take from stalking, chasing, and tearing into my prize. It’s one of the few activities where the others tolerate my presence. Though they’ll never admit I’m the better predator, they’re always willing to devour the feast I provide.

Only Ava treats me as equal. She’s too old and frail to hunt for herself these days, but I’ll be sure to bring her a choice portion. Nothing beats a fresh meal, and she deserves the pleasure more than anyone.

It wasn’t always like this. I had friends once when childhood still sang with innocence and the world had yet to slam its doors on me. But remembering better times only brings sorrow, so I move forward to whatever tonight might hold.

Voices sound from fifty paces ahead. Odd because most of the pack would normally have shifted by dusk. Among them, a voice I don’t recognize floats to my ears.

“I must speak with your alpha,” says a smooth tenor, calm, though his timbre vibrates with urgency. “The matter is vital.”

Risking an upward glance, I scan the gathering. Jolan and Ozor, the pack’s enforcers, stand in their human forms facing the speaker, both tense and braced for a fight. But the stranger’s posture isn’t threatening. He’s neat, wearing charcoal stockings under a crisp blue tunic. Knee-high black boots gleam with a recent polish. Spine straight, shoulders back, weight settled in the heels, not the toes. Nut-brown hair hangs tied at his nape, most of it hidden beneath a fashionable black hat. If his features weren’t puckered with annoyance, he might be handsome.

I creep closer on silent paws, ears flicked forward.

“We’re busy,” barks Ozor. “Or hadn’t you noticed the moon? Come back another night.”

The stranger’s lips part, but before he can reply, Farkas storms through his front door.

Clad only in a pair of worn tan breeches, the pack alpha thunders down the porch stairs and into the commons. Even barefoot, Farkas is intimidating, towering head and shoulders over the others. His black eyes land on the stranger in a threatening glower, but the man isn’t shaken.

“You’re the alpha, I presume?” The stranger extends a hand, his movement graceful, as if he’s been invited to a friendly tea instead of invading hostile werewolf territory on a full moon.

Farkas ignores the proffered hand. “Your kind isn’t welcome here.”

Your kind. Wondering what that means, I inch forward so I can scent him for myself.

The stranger returns his arm to his side, fingers curled but not fisted. “And you have my apologies, but this couldn’t be avoided.” His eyebrows arch as he inclines his head. “We must speak.”

I sniff the air. His scent is masked by soaps. Lavender was used for his clothes, rose for his skin and hair, but beneath the added fragrance lies the spiced scent of blood—his own, yes, but also…someone else’s? That’s odd.

“Then speak,” growls Farkas. “What do you want from me, vampire?”

A vampire! I’ve never seen one before. He looks so…human. Fragile. Not what I’d expect of a blood-drinking night terror at all.

 

About the Author 

Lee Colgin has loved vampires since she read Dracula on a hot, sunny beach at 13 years old. She lives in North Carolina with lots of dogs and her husband. No, he’s not a vampire, but she loves him anyway. Lee likes to workout so she can eat the maximum amount of cookies with her pizza. Ask her how much she can bench press.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website   |  Facebook Group  |  Twitter

Newsletter Sign-up  |  BookBub

 

 

Giveaway 

Enter the Kingsumo Giveaway

for a chance to win

a $10 Amazon Gift Card to celebrate the author’s 10th release

and

an ebook Bundle of the Immortal Jewels Series (three books)

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

New Release – Ginger Snapping All the Way by Gabbi Grey

RELEASE BLITZ and AUDIOBOOK TOUR

Book Title:  Ginger Snapping All the Way

Author: Gabbi Grey

Publisher: Self-Published

Narrator: Michael Dean

Release Date: November 15, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Hurt/comfort, lumberjack/nurse, grumpy/sunshine, forced proximity

Themes: Redemption, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 8 hours and 8 minutes

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Audible US  |  Audible UK 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

 

Blurb 

Maddox

I’m not a fan of Christmas. I’m happy to stay up in my mountain cabin and let the silly season pass me by.  But when a friend asks for a favor, I can’t say no.  Now I’m stuck in my cabin during a snowstorm, trapped with the most beautiful man I’ve ever met—who can’t wait to get away. He just might break my heart when he goes.

Ravi

I’m racing to get home for the birth of my goddaughter when mechanical troubles force my plane’s emergency landing. There are no beds at the inn due to a horrendous storm, but a friend says she knows a guy who won’t mind putting me up until the bad weather passes.  Now I’m trapped with that man, and I must decide if I stay, hiding from the rest of the world, or go and face my past to earn a shot at my happily ever after.

 

This is a 72k word, hurt/comfort, lumberjack/nurse, grumpy/sunshine, forced proximity MM romance novel with a moderate amount of angst.

 

 

Excerpt

All of a sudden, the mechanical whirr of a window descending sounded through the cabin, and within moments, a blast of cold air hit my neck.

“Jesus, Sofia.”

I glanced in the side mirror, and damned if the dog didn’t have her head stuck out the window. She must’ve climbed over my bag and, apparently, knew how to lower the window.

Impressive.

“I’m rolling up the window.”

More whirring, and an indignant yip.

I didn’t speak dog, but I knew pissed when I heard it.

“I don’t care.” Maddox gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

Another yip.

“Okay. One French fry. But that’s all you’re getting. Zephyra said no more treats.”

I hesitated. None of my business, but I couldn’t help myself. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking, who is Zephyra?” I probably didn’t need to know, but this was the first conversation in about fifteen minutes, and even if I was interrupting dog/human communication, I wanted in on the discussion.

“Dr. Zephyra Dixon is Sophia’s veterinarian. Her clinic is across from the A&W, and she might have spotted me giving Sophia a French fry.”

Two quick successive yaps.

Ah, now the truth was coming out.

Sofia placed her front paws on the center console by my elbow and nuzzled my ear again.

“Holy crap, dog, you’re all wet.” And cold.

“Hence the reason I don’t want her rolling down the window. Doesn’t have the sense God gave her.”

I glanced over my shoulder to find a grinning pup. Oh, she was mighty pleased with herself.

“At least she’s strapped in.” I’d noticed that. Some kind of harness system. She could go back and forth between the two back windows and come up to the front console, but was clearly secured.

“There’s a reason for that.”

I waited, but no further elucidation came. “Care to share?”

A grunt. “Not long after I got her, we were driving home from town. When I arrived at my place, the back seat was empty.” He shot a quick glare at the dog who didn’t appear the least bit cowed. “She won’t tell me if she slipped or jumped, but she’d gone out the window when I’d slowed down to make a left. Took me two hours of walking the back roads. Finally, someone stopped and told me where they’d seen her. Little shit.” That last bit was muttered, but clearly audible.

I turned to face Sofia. “That must have been traumatizing.”

A snort. “Little dear was lapping up the luxury in someone’s backyard, sunning herself after a dip in the kiddie pool. Damn lucky no one shot her.”

“Shot her?” I pressed a hand to my chest.

“Plenty of my neighbors have guns. Wouldn’t be legal, but that wouldn’t stop some of them. She lucked out.”

I tweaked her nose. “Did you hurt yourself?”

A snicker. “She was just fine. Shaved a couple of years off my life, but she was no worse for wear.”

Ah, so he did have a heart.

For his dog, at least.

 

About the Author  

Gabbi lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black.

 

 

Social Media Links

Audible Profile   |   Blog/Website  |   Facebook 

Twitter   |  Newsletter Sign-up 

 

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Fractured Mind by Matthew Dante #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Fractured Mind

Author: Matthew Dante

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: The Ravens Touch 

Release Date:  November 18, 2021

Genre: M/M Thriller

Tropes: Obsessive love

Themes: Dark Romance, obsession, revenge

Heat Rating: 3 flames       

Length: 60 000 words/ 300 pages

It is the second book in the Fractured Boys series and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

There is nothing more dangerous than a man alone with his thoughts.

 

Blurb

People have been disappearing all across the State with no apparent connection to one another. Police are baffled and struggling to determine if the disappearances are connected or are simply isolated incidents. There are no bodies or evidence- only abandoned vehicles and missing persons reports. 

Meanwhile, Alex Sanders is battling his own demons… 

Almost a year after surviving a horrific weekend held captive by his former best friend, Marc, Alex is now a freshman at the University of Tennessee. Desperately trying to start over, he is consumed with depression, anxiety, and guilt for the murder that he helped cover up. Always fearful of being discovered, Alex can’t help but wonder, is Marc still secretly watching him? 

Could Marc’s obsession with him have something to do with the current flood of disappearances across the State? 

All things seem to lead back to that fateful weekend… the one that started with murder … and ended in betrayal.


Warning: This book contains scenes which may be considered triggering events for some involving extreme violence, murder, kidnapping, and torture.

 

 

Excerpt

Alex had never felt such excruciating pain! It was as if his shoulder was leaning against a furnace during a winter blizzard. His shoulder was on fire, and he began to see stars in front of his eyes. He wished for the pain to stop! Please, God, if you are watching, please make this pain stop! I’ll do anything you ask! I’m sorry I was not a better man! 

Perhaps this was karma finally catching up to him for the role he played in Shawn’s death. While Alex was not the one that ultimately ended Shawn’s life, he also did nothing to report the murder or try to find Marc and bring him to justice. 

Yes, Karma was finally here to collect.

The figure standing in front of Alex slowly began to turn the blade as blood and flesh began to tear aware from his body. 

Alex cried out again in pain as his tears mixed with the blood that now slid down his arm and onto the straws of hay that peppered the ground of the barn.

He deserved this. He watched a man die and remained silent. Alex was finally getting what he deserved. 

Alex’s cry of pain was cut short as his face was splashed with a warm liquid. He opened his eyes startled, just in time to watch his torturer fall to the ground with a thump. Puzzled, Alex looked up.

Standing in front of him, holding a blood-stained bat, was his demon savior… the man who had caused so much pain in his life… the man whom he once cared for deeply… Marc. 

“Marc?” Alex whispered, half in shock, half in disbelief. 

This had to be one of his hallucinations brought on by the pain he was enduring. There was no way that Marc was standing right in front of him. No way.

Marc dropped the bloody bat and pulled the butterfly blade from his back pocket. He knelt down and gently touched Alex’s tear-stained face. 

Alex felt a slight tingling sensation when Marc’s fingertips touched his face. It was as if a thousand little electric currents were running from Marc’s fingers to his cheek.   

Alex stared up into Marc’s soft brown eyes. There was so much emotion in those eyes; fear, anger, and a hint of something else… longing?? 

Staring into those eyes, Alex thought about the countless nights the two of them stayed up late chatting together. The days when it had just been the two of them, living in a simpler world. A world before all the pain, murder, and betrayal. 

Yes, Alex had broken Marc’s heart when he refused to help him deal with Shawn’s dead body- a murder Marc had committed in order to protect Alex. But being here now, staring into Alex’s soulful eyes, it seemed as though all that had been forgotten by Marc. Marc was staring at Alex with such loving eyes.  

“I’m here now. Everything will be okay, I promise,” Marc blurted as the anger seemed to melt from his eyes and was replaced with so much love. 

“Wh… what are you doing here?” Alex asked, still in shock that Marc was actually standing in front of him. 

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to get here,” Marc apologized, as he touched the side of Alex’s bloody face. 

Alex noticed the look of pain in Marc’s eyes as he wiped the blood from Alex’s face. 

“Marc… I can’t believe you’re… how…” Alex was at a loss for words. He could not believe that Marc was standing right in front of him. Coming to his rescue once again. After all that he had done. But how did Marc know?

The lights in the barn suddenly went black. 

 

About the Author 

Matthew Dante is a Canadian indie author who loves to write about magic, fantasy, and romance. He is an avid reader, world traveller, lover of all things Marvel and DC, and a romantic at heart. 

Most of his stories center around gay main characters who are usually the love interests and the heroes of these stories. He writes these novels, so that other LGBTQ people will be able to read about characters and stories that they can relate to and be proud of.

 

Social Media Links

Facebook   |   Instagram

 

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Sexted By Santa by DJ Jamison #kindleunlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Sexted By Santa

Author: DJ Jamison

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: November 18, 2021

Genre: Contemporary MM romance/holiday romance

Tropes: App hookup to lovers, neighbors, single dad, reluctant Santa, age gap

Themes: Choosing love over regret, found family, holiday feels, love and acceptance

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 83 500 words

It’s set in the Thrust into Love universe, but with no real overlaps.

The book does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |   Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

Christian Kringle: College professor, reluctant Santa, and…fake dating my neighbor?

 

Blurb


I’m a grinch and proud of it–but this year, there’s no avoiding the Christmas cheer.

First, I get roped into playing Santa. Shudder. Then, while trying to dodge a setup with my boss’s brother, I somehow promise to attend a holiday party with my boyfriend–who doesn’t exist.

Next thing I know, my (soon-to-be former) best friend has set up a profile on a hookup app to find me a date. With the username of….wait for it…SantaWantsYourChimney.

Go ahead and laugh. He sure did, the traitor.

Before I can delete the profile, I match with an easygoing guy with amazing photos. His teasing about Santa kink makes me laugh, and blush, and feel things I haven’t since my divorce. For the first time in years, I look forward to dating.

Until we meet, and he turns out to be my neighbor. My very young, very off-limits neighbor who I’ve clashed with for years. Only now I know just how sexy, charming, and sweetly devoted to his daughter he is.

I should walk away, but I still need that fake boyfriend. The only problem? Jaxson’s so convincing I can’t tell where the pretense ends and real feelings begin.

Falling for him is easy. Loving his daughter? Effortless. Trusting that I can keep them is the hard part.

It’ll take the magic of love, family, and yes–even Christmas–to teach this old grinch new tricks.

Sexted By Santa is a standalone holiday romance set in the Thrust Into Love universe.

 

 

Excerpt

In the following scene, Christian logs onto a hookup app after his friend made him an embarrassing profile with the username SantaWantsYourChimney:

 

I finally opened the app that Barry had installed on my phone.

Time to change this ridiculous profile—or maybe delete it altogether.

There were a handful of notifications. Huh. I had some match requests, more than I would have expected given the lack of any real photos on my account. But my notifications also included men who had accepted my request—a neat trick since I hadn’t made any yet.

Barry, you scoundrel…

I should delete the whole lot of them. Why would a normal guy go for this Santa schtick? With great skepticism, I took a peek at one of the messages.

I want to ride Santa’s pole!

Charming. I checked the guy’s stats. He was older, at fifty, but clearly not mature, as my profile—well, the one Barry had written for me, at any rate—had requested. He wasn’t bad looking, slim but handsome. His user name, Best_You’ll_Ever_Have, didn’t encourage me. It was too close to my ex-husband’s brand of ego. Fynn was beautiful, and he knew it. He’d used it to his advantage on more than occasion. But when that didn’t work…Oh, he became furious. His ego was huge but fragile. Even for a single date to a work party, I wanted a guy who’d be a little more even-keeled. The last thing I needed was some ridiculous drama playing out in front of my colleagues.

I bypassed him to review another match. This one in his sixties.

If you’re tired of naughty boys, maybe Santa needs a Daddy.

Nope. Delete.

I picked through a few more, not overly impressed with the offerings—until I reached CasualDad.

I almost passed him by—until I realized this wasn’t another Daddy wannabe. This was an actual dad. Was that good? Not for anything serious—I wouldn’t know the first thing about dealing with a kid—but luckily I only needed a date to a party. No commitment required.

I checked his profile for red flags.

It read: I’m a dad first. Just looking to relieve some stress and have fun. Open to casual dating, but I don’t have the time or energy for anything serious.

Well, that sounded perfect. Plus, he’d accepted a match request Barry sent on my behalf—rather than seeking me out—so perhaps he wasn’t a weirdo turned on by a pixelated Santa. Why he’d accepted the request was a still a mystery though. Maybe he didn’t see it actually going anywhere. Why would he, when the guy requesting a match was a fictional person?

CasualDad’s pics were enticing.

He had a broad, firm chest with script over his pecs that read Love leaves no room for regret. A nice sentiment, though I didn’t know if I agreed. My love for Fynn had created plenty of regret. But I didn’t have to agree with the man’s tattoo to take him on a date. Preferably, a date that ended very pleasurably for us both.

I’d gotten on this app to find a date to a work party, but these pictures reminded me that my body had its own needs, which had been ignored for some time now. Maybe I could get more than arm candy for a boring night with my colleagues out of this.

My mouth watered as I studied the various pics showing his chest and stomach, not overly muscled but solid. There was no direct face shot, but there was one shot of him in profile. He had nearly shoulder-length hair, which was blowing across his face. Water—maybe a lake—filled the background of the image. I could just make out the edge of his smile—and it was mischievous, maybe a little amused by someone off camera.

Jaxson Hicks flashed through my mind for a split second. His smile as he took pot shots at my Santa performance had that same edge of mischief. But I shut that thought down. I’d set my filters to hide anyone under thirty-five—and a quick look at CasualDad’s profile confirmed he met that threshold. Jaxson was much younger. He’d dropped out of college about seven years ago. If my math was correct, he would be somewhere around twenty-six or twenty-seven.

Even if he were old enough, Jaxson and I had never been anything but oil and water since we’d first met as student and adviser. He hadn’t liked what I’d had to say, and the feeling had been mutual.

Better to focus on this guy in front of me. This delicious-looking guy.

I decided to send him a quick message.

Hey, there. I like your pics and your profile. You seem like someone I’d like to know better, maybe over drinks? Apologies for the ridiculous username and profile. I’ll update soon.

His response came just as I was putting aside my reading for the night and turning off the light.

CasualDad: The name gave me a good laugh. If you change it, does that mean you won’t be cleaning my chimney? And is that a euphemism for what I think it is?

I groaned, mentally cursing Barry again.

SantaWantsYourChimney: My jerk of a friend thought it was funny. Obviously I need a new friend. If this doesn’t work out, you can have the spot. As long as you can resist matchmaking and setting up ridiculous profiles for me on dating apps.

CasualDad: That’s a high bar. I don’t know if I can meet it. I kind of want to see where a Santa kink could go 😉

SantaWantsYourChimney: But I hate Santa, and Christmas, and all this seasonal nonsense.

CasualDad: That only makes this name funnier. Now you have to keep it.

I dropped my head back on the pillow. It seemed as if I were destined to play Santa in all aspects of my life. But even I had to admit it had served as a pretty good ice-breaker with CasualDad. His easy teasing made me smile.

Maybe I can keep the name if it means you chat with me again, I typed.

He was quick to reply: Maybe I’ll chat with you again if you send me some sexy Santa pics.

Oh, hell no. Volunteering as Santa was bad enough. But posing for X-rated Santa selfies wasn’t happening. I sent him a reply, then turned off my phone before I could be tempted into embarrassing myself.

Listen, I’m just not that kind of Santa. I don’t rush down anyone’s chimney. But I do hope we can chat again…

When I woke the next morning, the first thing I did was check the Thrust app for his reply.

Hahaha, okay, Santa. We’ll play it your way. Message me again when you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.

 

 

About the Author

 

DJ Jamison writes romances about everyday life and extraordinary love featuring a variety of queer characters, from gay to bisexual to asexual. DJ grew up in the Midwest in a working-class family, and those influences can be found in her writing through characters coping with real-life problems: money troubles, workplace drama, family conflicts and, of course, falling in love. DJ spent more than a decade in the newspaper industry before chasing her first dream to write fiction. She spent a lifetime reading before that and continues to avidly devour her fellow authors’ books each night. She lives in Kansas with her husband, two sons, one snake, and a sadistic cat named Birdie.

 

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New Release – Townies by W.S. Long

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Book Title: Townies

Author: W.S. Long

Publisher:  JMS Books

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs

Release Date: November 6, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes:  Friends to lovers

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness, first time

Heat Rating: 4 flames  

Length: 45 000 words/ 151 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

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Buy Links

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Can a secret crush who rejected Johnny be someone he can trust? And why would the richest teenager in town be interested?

 

Blurb

Johnny Cunningham had a secret crush on the high school quarterback, Zach Carpenter. Because of fear and anxiety, he didn’t do anything about it. A chance meeting after high school brings their paths together again, and sparks fly. 

Zach Carpenter was born into the richest family in town, but since 10th grade he has been attracted to Johnny Cunningham and wasn’t sure if Johnny liked him too. When they meet again after high school, Zach cannot deny his strong attraction to Johnny and pursues him, even though Johnny is a Townie and dirt poor and Zach’s parents have already determined Zach’s path in life. 

When Johnny discovers that Zach suffers from bipolar disorder, and that Zach’s parents have other plans for Zach that don’t include Johnny, can they overcome these obstacles and make their love last forever?

 

 

Excerpt 

The drive to their mom’s Waffle House shouldn’t have taken long but stop and go traffic going to the restaurant added several minutes to their drive.

As they rounded Memorial Park, some campaign signs lined the road.

“I can’t believe they have election signs up already. It’s still a year off.” Johnny eyed one small sign. Pete Buttigieg.

“That’s the gay guy, right?” Colton asked.

“Yeah. I heard people still don’t know how to pronounce it.”

“He’s not going to win. Look how many Trump 2020 signs there are here.”

“He won this county last time.” Johnny sighed. “He won the whole state, I think.”

“Could you imagine if a queer man won? Holy hell?” Colton laughed. “Here we are.” Colton pulled up, and parked.

Johnny and Colton walked quickly into the restaurant and were greeted by Gladys. Their mom soon appeared from the back.

“Hey you two, happy birthday!” Sharon beamed. “Take that booth over there.” Their mother pointed to the corner and Colton and Johnny took the seats quickly with Johnny taking the seat that faced the entrance.

Gladys came up to them with a coffee pot in her hands. Johnny turned the cup over on the saucer and let Gladys pour. “I can’t believe you two are nineteen. High school graduation was just days ago, not a month or so.” She chuckled as she poured a cup for Colton.

Sharon smiled, and placed her hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Glad you could make it Conn — I’m sorry, Johnny. God that’s going to take time getting use to calling you what your grandpa called you. Your brother said you were like the dead this morning.”

“Yeah, why sweetie? It took me how many years to tell you two apart, now you got be called Johnny now?” Gladys laughed.

“What did the boys want?” Dwayne, Gladys’s husband yelled.

“The usual, right” Sharon asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said.

“Yeah,” Colton. “Me too.”

Johnny kicked Colton underneath the table.

Sharon put her hands on her hips and glared at Colton. Johnny nudged his shoe against Colton.

“I’m sorry.” Colton’s face flushed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s better.” Sharon relaxed her arms. Gladys chortled as she went back to the counter to take care of a customer who wanted to pay his bill.

“I bought a small cake for you two from Publix to have before you leave. I have to work until nine tonight. So, we’ll just have to a birthday dinner another time. Raincheck?”

“That’s fine, Mom.” Johnny smiled. “Chocolate cake? Yellow cake?”

“It’s yellow cake with fudge icing.” She held her finger out. “I’ll be right back.”

The door opened with a small bell ring, and Zach Carpenter walked in with an older man.

Johnny instinctively slunk down in his seat.

Colton’s eyebrows knitted together, “What?” Colton twisted his body to where Zach stood

Zach was scanning to see where they should sit.

“You can sit anywhere you want honey!” Gladys shouted, as she took the customer’s twenty and made change from his bill.

“Hey, Zach!” Colton shouted.

Johnny’s neck heated.

“Hey, Colton, Connor, what’s up?” Zach Carpenter walked toward them; his companion followed him too. Zach stood at least six feet three inches, and when Colton stood up to greet Zach, it was noticeable that Colton was a couple of inches shorter.

Zach had three days or so of light brown stubble that contrasted with his unruly ash brown hair. The grey shirt he wore seemed painted on his sculpted chest. The shirt further tapered into a V-shape, showcasing his small waist. The pink shorts he wore showed off Zach’s thigh muscles. Johnny didn’t know what brand of moccasins Zach was wearing but he was sure he didn’t buy it from Wal-Mart.

The man next to Zach was shorter; thinning salt and pepper gray; the man’s eyeglasses balanced at the end of the gentleman’s nose.

Before Zach or Colton could say anything, Sharon appeared, holding the cake in one hand, and another tried to keep the candles on the cake from blowing out.

“It’s your birthday?” Zach asked, staring at Johnny, who nodded quietly slightly embarrassed when their mom started singing.

“Our birthday,” Colton corrected.

Luckily for them, Gladys took over when their mother faltered in staying in tune, and Gladys’s golden voice, trained from years of choir practice at the local A.M.E. church, got other patrons to clap at the end, right before the twins blew out the candles. Zach and the older man next to clapped hard.

Dwayne came out with grilled cheese and fries and gave the plates to Gladys who in turn placed them in front of the boys.

Sharon hugged her boys and went back to the back office while Gladys and Dwayne went back behind the counter.

“This is my uncle, Roderick,” Zach said. “He’s visiting from Boston and saw this restaurant from across the bridge from his hotel on Gulfside.

“We don’t have them in Massachusetts.” Roderick eyed Johnny and Colton’s plate as he scanned the cooking area. “I remember as a kid going to them in Pennsylvania. We would stop after summer camp in upstate New York just to try the grits. I haven’t had grits in so long.”

“Well, uncle, I can tell you’re hungry so let’s take a seat.” Zach waved goodbye at Colton, Johnny, and Sharon as Gladys passed with two fresh plates for the cake.

Johnny relaxed when Zach and Roderick sat in a booth several feet away and not in the empty booth right next to them.

 

About the Author 

Immigrant, military-brat, gay veteran, and former theme park employee, among other things, W.S. Long upon leaving the military became a lawyer. During the day, he practices law but at night he reads and writes male-male romance under this pen name. Once in a while W.S. Long travels or dreams about traveling to wonderful places with his wonderful husband, a mild-mannered college professor. 

 

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Finding Sarah by Aprille Canniff

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Book Title: Finding Sarah

Author: Aprille Canniff

Publisher: Fulton Books

Release Date: August 26, 2021

Genre:  Romance, F/F Romance

Tropes: Trauma, New Girl in Town

Themes: Internal Struggle, Relationship, Love

Heat Rating: 3 flames    

Length: 60 000 words/ 187 pages

The book ends on a cliffhanger. There is a follow-on book coming.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

The past has left her scarred and broken, but does she have the strength to risk her heart on the future?

 

Blurb 

When Sarah steps off the plane in Provincetown, she has only one goal—to leave the past behind her. As she begins her journey of rediscovering herself, she meets one of the town’s deputies under less-than-ideal circumstances but soon finds herself drawn to her in ways she knows she can’t allow.

Deputy Catrina Diaz loves her job, her family, and her friends, which is why she became a deputy to begin with, to keep her town and those she loves safe. When she crosses paths with Sarah, a newcomer to town, she finds herself wanting more than Sarah is wanting to give.

Sarah fights hard to find herself as the past keeps finding new ways to haunt her. As their relationship grows, will the secrets Sarah is hiding, secrets that Cat realizes everyone knows but her, finally pull them apart? Can Sarah trust Cat enough to overcome her past and the insecurities it has caused and take a chance on the one thing she thought she could never have again-love?

 

Excerpt 

Grateful for the privacy, Sarah sat down, facing Cat on the couch. “Cat, I don’t want you to think…” Sarah paused, struggling to find the words to explain.

“What? That you’re avoiding me?” Cat reached over and took Sarah’s hand, their fingers automatically intertwining. “Sarah, I like you. I like spending time with you.”

Sarah was overcome with sadness. “Cat, we can’t.”

“Give me one good reason why.”

A tear slid down her cheek as she spoke the simple truth that had consumed her since she had met Cat. “Because I’m broken, and you deserve better.”

Cat reached over and gently wiped the errant tear away from Sarah’s cheek. “We are all broken in some way, but that doesn’t mean we can’t help each other to heal.”

Sarah shook her head, frustrated for what she wanted and for what she could never have. “Cat, you don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t, but I’m willing to wait until you are ready to tell me. Until then…” Cat leaned forward and gently, almost shyly, placed a soft kiss on Sarah’s lips. The feel of Sarah’s lips flooded her senses and filled her with a warmth so intense she finally understood what all the romance novels were talking about. She understood what it meant to fall with one simple kiss. “I want to spend time getting to know the Sarah you are wanting to become.”

Sarah did her best to fight back and hide the feelings she had for Cat, but that kiss, how could she hold back now? That one simple kiss tore down the walls she had built to protect herself and others. She had to do what was right and stop this before it got out of control, but what her mind wanted was overridden by her heart, surprising even herself. “Cat, I don’t know if I could handle you walking away if you find out what happened to me. I’m telling you, it’s horrible, and it’s not something you can unsee.”

It broke Cat’s heart to see the tears that were now flowing freely down Sarah’s cheeks. She wanted to erase the past and the hurt it had caused her. Instead, she pulled Sarah into her arms and held her as she cried. “I see you for who you are, and that’s all that matters. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

Sarah wanted to say no because she couldn’t take anymore hurt or disappointment in her life, but the longer Cat held her, the harder it was to fight. Finally, she dried her eyes and sat up. “Maybe…”

 

About the Author

Aprille Canniff retired from the military after 24 years of service and has deployed to multiple Middle Eastern locations throughout her military career.  She is a full-time Deputy Sheriff who loves her job and wakes up every morning ready for another day.  Her passions include fishing as a catch and release type girl and hiking with her wife.  Her two cats determine the pace of her future books so she never gives a timeline for completion.

 

 

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Dark Fate: An MM Urban Fantasy Romance by Kat Silver #giveaway

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Book Title: Dark Fate: An MM urban fantasy romance (Flame Born Book 2)

Author: Kat Silver

Publisher: Kat Silver

Cover Artist: Bookfly

Release Date: November 12, 2021

Genres: Urban fantasy romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers 

Themes: Self-discovery and empowerment, finding home, freedom, good vs evil

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 117 000 words

It is not a standalone book, but part of a series (Flame Born Book 2)

This story ends on a satisfying cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

Torn between finding answers and escaping chains, can Michael trust his werewolf lover or is the devious vampire prince the only one truly on his side?

 

Blurb 

“And if I am a monster? Will you want me then?” 

Ten days after the battle at Blackriver, Michael struggles with new forbidden desires, with his rampant Flame, and a deepening relationship with the taciturn werewolf, Commander Gabriel Flanagan.

Feeling responsible for their loss, Michael longs to rescue the students stolen by the manipulative vampire prince, Alexei Vasiliev. But the High Council refuses to free Michael from his chains. They fear the whisperer — the half-breed who decimated an entire company of soldiers and came back from the dead. Yet, Michael still yearns for a future among the Guardians. For a place beside his Finnish, silver-eyed giant. For a home within the crazy supernatural world he’s now bound to. 

But does Michael still have a future? He’s a descendent of the Warlock — from a bloodline that produces only monsters. If discovered, not even his protective lover can save him from certain execution. He may not want to.

Dark Fate is the second book in the Flame Born series. This MM urban fantasy/paranormal romance is action packed, featuring steaming hot scenes, a hunk of an alpha love interest, a chocolate scented snarky vampire prince, a clever best friend who can kill a man with her little finger, and one too many shady characters to count. See inside for trigger warnings on both books. 

 

Excerpt

I grip the sink edge, knuckles white, and glare at the contents of the glass vial lying beside the tap. The viscous liquid, the color of a fine bottled wine, looks so innocuous. Innocent. A random sample of blood.

There’s nothing innocent about this vial’s contents.

Every time I see it, my mouth salivates with the need for a taste. Whenever I take the vial from my pocket to caress the cool glass in my hand, a clamoring monster of desire rips through me like a fire.

Not this time.

I swipe up the tube, twist out the cork, and prepare to pour the blood away. Metal clanks against ceramic, echoing through the small bathroom, as the chain between my wrist manacles knocks the sink. A heady smell of cocoa and figs hits my nostrils. My hand falters. God, that scent.

His scent.

An urgency to inhale the smell deep into my lungs, to press the glass into my lips and lick the rim, almost takes control. 

Alexei. That devious vampire. He knew exactly what he was doing when he left me with this. His blood constantly tugs at me like an unfinished song. Like a broken tooth my tongue won’t leave alone.

I could wash temptation away. Watch clear water turn burgundy as the vile substance slides into the drain.

I won’t.

I’ve faced this trial for ten days, and the result never changes.

I’ve tried to show the vial to Flanagan. Tried to hand it over so he can smash the glass and destroy the contents. Somehow, it always returns to my hiding places. A dirty secret.

 

 

About the Author 

I’m a simple northern English lass with an addiction to writing, as well as all things romance. Also addicted to cats, cat videos, and anything with, you know, cats in it. And there’s chocolate, and tea, coffee too, and rainy Sundays. Okay, I have many addictions. But my first love has always been story in all its forms, from movies to books to anecdotes told over a beer at the local pub. If we’re sharing a story, I’m all ears. And if it’s fantasy with sexy heroes and vampires and lots of angsty luuurve, I’m probably drooling. Come in, pour yourself a tea, and kick your shoes off. Let me tell you a story.

 

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New Release – Remember When by BL Maxwell #kindleunlimited #giveaway

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Book Title: Remember When 

Author: BL Maxwell 

Publisher and Cover Artist: BL Maxwell

Release Date: November 11, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, small town, holiday romance 

Themes: Secret crush, secrets revealed

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 50 500 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

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Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited 

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A night to remember, a confession, and a lifetime of love in this small town, friends to lovers Christmas romance.

 

Blurb

Andrew Lawson’s life in Sacramento has turned from being everything he dreamed of growing up, to a lonely place where finding someone special to share his life with is impossible. When the first person he meets on returning home for Thanksgiving is his childhood friend Link, it’s a reminder of happier times when his whole future lay in front of him. Agreeing to a drink before heading to his parent’s place is a way to reconnect, and a great way to start the holiday.  

Link Stanton never considered leaving the small farming town he grew up in, but he misses Andy more than he’ll ever admit. Secretly lusting after a friend is bad enough but being in love with him is so much worse. One drink with friends seems harmless enough, after all, catching up on old times can’t be a bad thing, until beers turn to shots, and Link reveals how he really feels. 

Everything could change, and if Andy doesn’t remember Link’s heartfelt confession, they could carry on as friends. But if he does remember, this could be either the worst, or the best, Christmas of all. 

 

Excerpt 

Sunday morning came and I slept in. The past few days, including two nights of drinking, had finally caught up with me. I’d stayed up late the night before texting with Link about anything and nothing at all. Like always, that was just how it was between us.

Around ten I rolled out of bed and checked my phone. A few clients had messaged hoping to get in sometime before Christmas. They were smart to book it now. Even though it was a month away, by the end of this week there wouldn’t be any openings.

It was a perfect Sunday, I didn’t leave the house and got everything ready for the week. This week would be the beginning, and it wouldn’t let up until Christmas Eve. I normally worked it, but after this year I’d decided it was time to start taking it off.

I was just settled down on the couch and turned on the TV when my phone rang. “Hello?” “Hey.” I’d know that smooth deep voice anywhere.

“I was just thinking about you.” It wasn’t a lie, since I’d left home Link had been on my mind constantly.

“Good thoughts I hope.”

“Always. It was great seeing you again. I know it hadn’t been that long but it really was nice to catch up again.”

His words brought a smile to my face, and I pictured his blue eyes crinkling at the corners with a grin. “So, are you going to give me any clues?”

“Do you need a clue?” he taunted, and he knew he taunted. I would have sworn I could hear his smirk through the line.

“Link, you know I need a clue. I’ve been racking my brain since Friday trying to remember anything that might help. Why did you let me drink so many shots?”

“Hey, you were having fun, we were all having fun. Who was I to ruin anyone’s good time? And once you started you were all in. Then we were dancing, and well it was a lot of fun.”

Oh god, he was right. It wasn’t unusual for us to all get together before a holiday and have a few drinks, there was nothing that would make me not go all in. “It was a lot of fun, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out.” I wanted to mention his confession, and how he kissed me. But I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, and it felt like something we should talk about in person.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for years,” he whispered, and I would have sworn I could feel his breath on my neck.

“I think you said that the other night.” My own voice was soft and breathy. I wasn’t sure exactly why, but the mood had changed, and I didn’t want anything to break the spell his words had woven around us.

“Did I?” He played coy, something that was new between us. But I found I was quite drawn to.

“You did, right before you kissed me.” He was quiet then. Too quiet, and I checked the phone to be sure we were still connected. “Link?”

 

About the Author 

BL Maxwell grew up in a small town listening to her grandfather spin tales about his childhood. Later she became an avid reader and after a certain vampire series she became obsessed with fanfiction. She soon discovered Slash fanfiction and later discovered the MM genre and was hooked.

 

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Cosy & Chill by Jackie Keswick #kindleunlimited #giveaway

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Book Title:  Cosy & Chill

Author: Jackie Keswick

Publisher: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Covers by Jo

Release Date: November 10, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance with a Touch of Magic

Tropes: Opposites Attract, everyday magic, stranded fae, lost treasure, house mates, home-made family / found family

Themes: How to make dreams come true

Heat Rating: 3 flames       

Length:  approx. 62 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Amazon CA  |  Amazon DE  |  Amazon AU

 

Romance with a Touch of Fae

 

Blurb

What does it take to change your life?

Not “manly” enough for his father, quiet, industrious Finn dreams of his own knitting store. He needs Leo’s enthusiasm to take the steps that make his dream come true.

Cheerful, adventurous Leo puts on a good front selling artisan ice cream at the market, but shies away from fulfilling his grandmother’s last wish. He needs Finn’s love and support to tackle his past and put it to rest for good.

Add a Saxon treasure, a fae stranded in the human world, and an empty store with very unusual rental terms and falling in love is not the only challenge Finn and Leo have to face.

But there’s magic in dreams, and all they have to do is hold on tight.

 

 

Excerpt 

Finn’s boots squelched with every step. When he kicked them off on his parents’ doorstep, water seeped from his wet socks. “I hate November,” he grumbled while he hunted for his keys. “And weather forecasters.”

They hadn’t predicted this morning’s downpour, and Finn minded that. He might have taken an umbrella had he known. Or a boat.

He’d gone to the post office to drop off his latest batch of parcels, detouring on to the far end of the High Street to look at an empty store on the way back. Double-fronted with a bow window, it was perfect for the shop he dreamed of. He’d lingered in front of the dusty windows, imagining them sparkling clean, and the shelves in the room beyond filled to bursting—until the rain had prompted him to leave.

The shop was all he could think of and if wishes were coins, he’d have rented it already. As matters stood, he hadn’t even enquired.

Finn pushed open the door, and a ball of russet yarn with two needles sticking through it hit him right in the face.

“How many times have I told you not to leave your prissy stuff lying around the house?” His father bellowed at full volume from three feet away.

Finn wanted to point out that his ears worked fine, thank you very much, but knew that it would only make matters worse. He picked up the yarn, grateful that neither needle had poked his eye out, and that his father’s rough treatment hadn’t dropped any stitches.

“Sorry, Dad,” he muttered, meaning it. He’d been working on a commission when he realised that he’d miss the parcel collection if he didn’t hurry. In his rush to the door, he’d brought the half-finished glove in his wake. He should have taken it back to his room and run if he’d needed to, but that was water under the bridge.

He hung up his jacket in the hallway, then stripped off his sodden socks and his T-shirt so he could dry his feet before leaving wet footprints everywhere. He wiped up the water on the wooden floor for good measure before he made his way up the stairs.

If his father was yelling when it was barely five o’clock, then the rest of the evening wouldn’t be peaceful. No doubt he’d already opened the bottle of Scotch he’d bought yesterday.

Finn couldn’t cope with much more of this. Christmas was two months away. His list of orders was as long as his arm and turning away new business was not an option. He needed to work, not sit in his room, keeping half an ear out for trouble. 

The familiar, colourful clutter in his room soothed his mind. The space wasn’t large, just roomy enough for a bed, a wardrobe, and his desk. Every free corner held boxes and baskets filled with yarn, and he hunted for a piece he could create in a few hours. Hats were good for that. He could knock those out in no time flat.

His order book showed two requests for hats, and both were his favourites: custom orders.

He opened the first file to the smiling face of a young woman with green eyes, red hair a few shades darker than his own bright copper, and a spray of freckles across her nose. She’d requested a hat in a flattering style, but had specified nothing else. Moss green, his mind supplied immediately. Mohair. A close-fitting hat with a swirl pattern.

Suddenly excited, he went rummaging under his desk for a skein of moss-green yarn that showed tiny speckles of deep red here and there. He stuffed the yarn into his messenger bag along with his needle case, a measuring tape and the customer’s measurements. Then he changed into dry clothes and checked the weather. The rain had let up a bit, and Finn hoped he could make it to the pub without getting soaked again.

His father was swearing at something on the telly, as had become his habit. Finn tiptoed out and breathed a sigh of relief when he stood in the rain. Everything set off his father’s temper these days. Especially Finn.

He really should move out. He would move out. As soon as he’d saved enough to afford the rent on a small shop with a room where he could sleep. Maybe then, his father wouldn’t be so angry all the time and his mother would smile again.

Three hours later, the moss-green hat was nearing completion. Warm through after a dinner of steak pie and chips, and nursing a second beer, Finn felt almost happy. He was a familiar sight in the Crown & Anchor, tucked into a corner with his yarns and needles. It was a place where he could work without fear of interruption, and he’d been coming here ever since his father had lost his job and started drinking.

Food and peace weren’t the only things to recommend the pub. It was a great place to pick up commissions. People always looked for unusual, one-of-a-kind gifts, and he’d made christening gowns, blankets, baby clothes, scarves, hats, gloves, even Christmas ornaments.

The crowd was friendly and Annabelle, who held the pub’s license and worked at the bar that night, was more supportive than his parents had ever been. He’d made her a long cardigan, wine- red yak with a touch of silk, and she was perfectly happy for him to sit in his corner and knit. She even recommended him to friends and customers.

He hadn’t shared his dreams of owning a yarn shop with anyone, but maybe it was time to change that. He was working up his courage to ask her about business loans and setup grants, but he’d wait until she’d finished speaking to the guy leaning on the bar.

He had broad shoulders that tapered to slim hips, a trim backside, and long legs. A fisherman’s rib jumper, Finn’s mind suggested. Navy blue AAran. Or tweed, indigo with gold speckles. With a high collar to show off that long neck and let the slightly too long blond hair pool like gold against the blue.

You’re staring. Stop it.

That was easier said than done until Finn thought to wonder why the guy had four little Tupperware dishes open on the bar between himself and Annabelle.

He was explaining something to her, talking not just with his hands but with his whole body. There was passion in that lithe form, something bright and shining that held Finn’s interest until he realised he hadn’t stopped staring at all.

He dropped his gaze to his newly finished hat and tried to focus on the pattern, the run of the yarn. It would suit the lady who’d sent the photo. It would frame her delicate face, set off the striking hair, and bring out the green of her eyes. He knew the hat would find favour with her, but—for once—knitting couldn’t hold his mind.

The blond man at the bar drew his mind and his eyes, and Finn caught the moment when all that passion fell to ashes. The man’s shoulders slumped and one of his hands dropped to his side.

Annabelle watched him with an apologetic smile as he returned his dishes to his bag. She pulled a beer for him and handed it across the bar.

For a heartbeat, he appeared as if he was going to refuse. Then he dipped his head in thanks and reached for the glass. He slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder and turned away from the bar.

In a move that surprised him by its daring, Finn caught the man’s gaze, flicked his own to the empty seat at this table. He’d never been so brazen before, but something in the man’s wary determination spoke to him. He wasn’t sure what the blond man saw, but he came over and set his beer on the table.

“May I?”

 

About the Author 

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops.

For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in all the usual places

Blog/Website  |  Facebook group  |  Facebook page  |  Twitter 

Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up  |  TikTok  |  Patreon 

 

 

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New Release – Safe Harbour by Thom Collins #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Safe Harbour (Jagged Shores Book 2)

Author: Thom Collins

Publisher: Pride Publishing

Release Date: November 9, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance, Thriller and suspense

Tropes. Small town, holiday/coastal romance

Themes: Divorce, fresh starts, jealousy

Heat Rating: 4 flames    

Length: 58 382 words/ 229 pages

It is the second book in a linked series (Jagged Shores) but can be read alone. 

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Universal Sales Link  |  Publisher  |  First For Romance 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Amazon AUS

Kobo |  Barnes and Noble

 

Two lovers seek shelter in a storm of jealousy and passion

 

Blurb

Matt arrives in the seaside town of Nyemouth for a much-needed vacation. As a successful lawyer, Matt has a hectic career, and with an ex-husband still pestering him for money, he is long overdue a break. A holiday home perched above the town and its breath-taking harbour seems like the perfect place to unwind. Matt can’t wait to explore the beautiful, jagged shorelines and lose himself for a couple of weeks.

Jake has made a home in Nyemouth. After growing up in the city, living on the coast is everything to him. Running a business with his sister and volunteering on the crew of the local lifeboat, he is exactly where he wants to be. But Jake’s life is far from peaceful. Though he left his domineering husband Vince a year ago, Vince refuses to consent to a divorce or loosen his controlling hold on Jake.

On Matt’s first night in town, he encounters the couple having a blazing row. When Vince turns violent, Matt intervenes and takes Jake inside to escape his angry ex. Despite what happened, Matt feels a powerful attraction to the younger man. Jake is bright, endearing and unbelievably attractive, but the young man’s life is complicated. Matt already has enough problems of his own. He came away looking for an escape, not a starry-eyed distraction. As Matt and Jake get to know each other better, the gamble on a holiday romance becomes hard for either of them to resist. They have both been unlucky in love before. Maybe this time will be different.

Vince will not be shaken off so easily. He has no intention of letting Jake go…ever. As Matt’s and Jake’s emotions deepen, they do not understand how far Vince will take things to keep his husband. As far as Vince is concerned, they made a vow to each other… “till death do us part.”

 

 Excerpt

Matt opened the gate and approached Jake, who stood watching as Vince walked away.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Jake’s skin was rosy, and his chest rose and fell dramatically. His hands trembled. Shock, Matt surmised. Jake turned to look at him. His eyes were wide, the pupils huge. “Yes,” he said, out of breath, “I’m… I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“What?”

Matt pointed at his cheek. “Where he clocked you.”

“Oh.” He put his fingers to his face and looked at the blood on the tips. 

“Why don’t you come inside for a few minutes? I’ll get you an Elastoplast for that.”

“No, I couldn’t. Sorry… We’ve caused you enough trouble already.”

“Hey,” he said softly, “don’t apologise. I couldn’t ignore what was happening. Come on in. You’re shaking, too. Take a seat until you get your breath back. Give your buddy time to get away. I wouldn’t want you bumping into him at the bottom of the road.”

Jake exhaled, and the tension left his neck and shoulders. “If it’s no trouble, I could come in for a few minutes—just until things calm down.”

“Are you hurting anywhere else?” he asked, leading Jake to the front door and inside. “From when you fell.”

“Only my pride,” he said. “If that counts.”

Matt smiled. “Nothing wrong with your sense of humour.” He led Jake to the kitchen at the rear of the ground floor and sat him at the table. Matt folded a piece of kitchen roll into a small square and gave it to Jake. “Press this tight against the cut. There’s a first-aid kit in my suitcase. I won’t be a minute.”

“No need,” Jake said, pressing the paper towel against his cheek. “This should be enough to stop the bleeding. It’s just a scratch. You’ve done more than enough already. Thanks a lot.”

Being so close to him, Matt realised what a great-looking guy Jake was, with those beautiful eyes and unblemished skin. His T-shirt was well-fitted, showing the fine shape of his chest and shoulders beneath. His bare arms were muscular, gently suntanned and covered in light-brown hair. Despite his serious expression, there were very few lines on his face. Matt guessed his age to be around twenty-five.

“Do you want me to call the police?” he asked. “I got most of what happened on camera—certainly, the assault part. With me as a witness and the video evidence, they’ll have enough to charge him. It’ll get him out of your hair for the weekend, at least.”

Jake shook his head. “I don’t want to involve the police. It will only make things worse.”

“That guy assaulted you.”

“I’ll live. It’s just a scratch. If we phone the police, it will only make Vince worse.”

Matt didn’t push it. He’d seen this so many times before when victims of violence didn’t want to pursue a case for fear of inflaming the situation. “So, who is that guy? Your boyfriend?”

Jake exhaled dramatically. “If only. That would make things so much easier. No, Vince is my husband—soon-to-be ex-husband. At least I hope so. That’s what tonight was all about. My solicitor wrote to him about the divorce and he got the letter this morning.”

 

About the Author 

 

Thom Collins is the author of Closer by Morning, North Point and the Anthem Trilogy. His love of page turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the latest Jackie Collins book and confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy novels.

Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonk-busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but in 2013 he realized cruising is the best way to see the world.

Check out his website for news updates and a free ebook The Night.

 

Other links

Twitter: @thomwolf  |  Instagram: thomcollinsauthor  |   Newsletter Sign-up   

 

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one of five ebooks from Thom’s backlist.

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New Release – Red’s Wolf by Beth Laycock #kindleunlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Red’s Wolf

Author: Beth Laycock

Publisher: Rainbow Romance Press

Cover Artist: Free To Be Creative Co

Release Date: November 10, 2021

Genre: Paranormal romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, age gap, snowed-in together 

Themes: Found family, learning to accept yourself

Heat Rating:  3 – 4 flames  

Length: approx 28 000 words

It is the first book in a series of standalone books/novellas and does not end on a cliffhanger. 

Goodreads 

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

A fairy-tale retelling with a paranormal twist!

 

Blurb

Concerned for his gran’s health, Red braves the snow-covered forest to ensure she’s safe in the worsening weather. After several encounters over recent months, Red is both hoping to run into the huntsman again whilst also dreading he might because he knows their friendship can’t lead to more, no matter how much he wishes it might. 

A glimpse of his huntsman distracts Red and he stumbles away from the safety of the woodland path straight into the danger known as the wolf of Bowland. Shaken, but unharmed, Red manages to escape to the safety of his gran’s cottage to recover. 

Despite Red’s reservations, the pair grow closer after they end up snowed in together at the huntsman’s cabin, but can Aldrich help Red accept there is nothing wrong with who he is? Or will Red let his secret and insecurities come between them? Especially when he finds out his huntsman is hiding a secret of his own.

 

This M/M romance from Beth Laycock features friends to lovers, an age gap, snowed-in together, shifters and witches, and of course a HEA.

 

Excerpt 

I stopped as I reached the twisted oak and drew in a deep breath, and then slowly blew it out in a plume of white vapour. Hope warred with trepidation. I didn’t know the man all that well, we’d met a handful of times over the last few months in the woods to stop and talk, but I knew enough that I liked the man and wanted to discover more about him. 

And those encounters in the secluded woods had left me wanting more. More glimpses of the toned body that was hinted at beneath his clothes. More opportunities to listen to his lilting, almost musical voice as we chatted about everything and nothing. More chances to lose my senses in his intoxicating musky scent with that spicy hint of cinnamon. 

And didn’t that just spell trouble with a capital T. Looking forward to seeing the huntsman could only lead to heartache. I doubted one night with him would be anywhere near enough. And I didn’t do relationships. Couldn’t

With a brush of my palm over the twisted oak’s trunk, I veered off to the right and towards Gran’s. The hairs on the back of my neck lifted and as I raised my gaze…there he was. As if thinking about him had conjured him out of thin air, and I sucked in an icy breath.

Crouched in the distance, blurred by the snow that had begun to fall again, but I’d have recognised him anywhere. I took a step towards him. Adrenaline surged through my veins as excitement and anticipation spurred me closer. I couldn’t drag my gaze off him as he reached out a hand to the snow. 

What is he doing? 

Too engrossed by the vision of the huntsman, I must have wandered to the edge of the path because I stumbled over a small boulder hidden beneath the blanket of snow. I cried out as I fell, throwing out my hands to break my fall and to try to keep me on the path as my gran’s warnings rang out in my head. Never leave the path, Red. It’s not safe in the woods if you’re not on the path, that’s the only place I can protect you out there

But it was too late. As my elbow connected with the ground, it was cushioned by the soft earth of the forest floor instead of hard stone. Pain ripped through my body, and every bone ached as the curse took hold of me. 

I rolled onto my side as my hands morphed into paws, claws flicking out, and grey fur sprouting over every inch of my skin. My eyes shifted position and my vision dimmed to only muted colours as my sense of hearing heightened—the scuffle of some small animal scurrying away along a branch, the whisper of the snow falling on the ground, the slow, deep breaths of the huntsman in the distance—and my ears twitched.

My fangs dropped from my gums to replace my useless regular teeth, and my nose lengthened into a snout as the smells of the forest overwhelmed me. I could scent the huntsman even from this distance. And that tug I felt in my chest every time I saw him intensified to the point I almost threw my head back and howled.

The cinnamon tang of him had saliva dripping from my fangs, and I shuddered at the thought of sinking them into his warm, soft flesh. I shook my head, trying to rid the idea from my mind as I scrambled to my paws, but I could almost feel the give of his skin beneath my fangs as they sliced through him. 

My wolf did not control me. I would not bite a human. My heart throbbed at the thought, especially at the notion of harming the huntsman. It seemed wrong somehow, even though it was in my wolf nature to kill, and I couldn’t deny that weird urge—bite, bite, bite—whenever I was around him. 

The snap of a twig made me flinch. It was so loud and brought my surroundings back into sharp focus. A glance over my shoulder confirmed my worst fears. The huntsman was headed straight for me. 

I bounded away in the other direction, dodging between trees in the hope of shaking him off my trail. Of course, I didn’t. He was a huntsman and he easily tracked my paw prints in the snow despite the fact he couldn’t match my pace.

I circled back to where I’d stumbled off the path, crossing over my original paw prints to throw him off my tail. My tongue lolled out despite the cold nip in the air. I darted behind the twisted oak tree, my ears twitching as I listened for the huntsman. Nothing. 

I hung my head and drew in a breath. The big bad wolf escapes his hunter.

 

About the Author 

Beth Laycock’s books are influenced by her time living overseas as well as the gritty, urban landscape of the north of England where she grew up. She has been reading romance since she was old enough to tell herself that line every book lover does—just one more chapter.

As a teenager, she attempted to write her first novel, and many more since then are still gathering dust on her bookshelf. It wasn’t until she discovered the M/M genre that her muse showed up and refused to quit telling her stories about beautiful men finding love together. She hasn’t stopped scribbling them down since. Beth’s muse usually shows up when she is in the shower, is allergic to cleaning, rarely lets her watch TV, and insists she drinks copious amounts of coffee so she can turn caffeine into words.

 Beth’s books range from sweet to sexy, long to short, contemporary to paranormal, but a HEA is always guaranteed.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Instagram

Newsletter Sign-up  |  Pinterest  |  BookBub

 

 

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New Release – Genie in a Vodka Bottle by Rob Rosen #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Genie in a Vodka Bottle

Author: Rob Rosen

Publisher: JMS Books

Release Date: November 6, 2021

Genre: Speculative M/M Romance, Mystery, Adventure

Tropes: Genie, Enemy to Friend, Magic

Themes: Searching for love, forgiveness

Heat Rating:  4 flames   

Length:  139 pages/56 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

Barnes & Noble  |  Kobo  |  Google Play

 

A funny, frisky, and frequently heart-pounding genie romance and adventure novel!

 

Blurb

Mysterious forces are at play when Paul’s vacation to Spain unexpectedly detours to Gibraltar and then Morocco, to a vodka bottle in a hole in the wall bar, to a handsome genie with a slew of secrets, plus almost limitless powers, virtually no memory, and a keen desire to be freed from his curse. Along the way, Paul is reunited with his ex-lover and the genie’s previous master as fate draws them ever deeper into a murky, dangerous past.

On our heroes travel, from the frigid north of Russia to a magic carpet ride across China, ultimately finding themselves in the deserts of ancient Jordan. Here, they encounter another of the genie’s previous masters and a power far greater than they could’ve ever imagined, all within a massive temple carved into a mountainside. Can our intrepid foursome uncover the truth before the curse takes them all and possibly the entire world down? Will love win out in the end? Or is the genie forever doomed to a life foretold in fairy tales?

In this funny, frisky, and frequently heart-pounding adventure, only one thing is for certain: magic can happen even without three wishes.

 

Excerpt 

The bottle was still in my hand. I reached for the cork. I gave it a pull. It didn’t budge. I pulled again, harder this time. Nope, nothing. That cork must’ve been in there a long, long time, I figured. I stood up, placed the bottle between my knees, wiped the sweat from my palms and grabbed on tightly to the cork. Then, seeing as where I was, grunted, “Open sesame,” and gave one final, massive yank.

POP went the cork.

“Oh fuck,” went I.

I mean sure, the bottle was open, but, um, well, time was suddenly standing still. Like totally still. Nothing was moving, not the fans, the waitress, not Omar, who was pouring a drink that was suspended in midair. Though me, yeah, me I was moving. Or least my heart was. Super-fast, in fact. Energizer Bunny fast.

“Oh fuck,” went I, yet again.

Because now the vodka bottle was pouring, only, it wasn’t pouring vodka. And the pouring wasn’t obeying the laws of gravity because what was being poured went out and up as opposed down and down some more. Plus, the vodka bottle should have been pouring liquid but appeared to be pouring gas, a massive white cloud of it tinged with swirls of various shades of blue and, if I wasn’t mistaken, which I wasn’t, lightning. I mean, I knew lightning when I saw it, it’s just I’d never seen it being poured from a vodka bottle before.

The cloud spread, the blue becoming purple, then red, then all the colors of the rainbow at once. It looked like what you saw in an oil slick, greasy and blending and bleeding. And then the room I was in was all cloud, and it was just me in the cloud, me and the vodka bottle and the cloud of smoke and lightning and rainbow. The hairs on my neck stood on end as I tried to take it all in, but how do you take in a cloud, especially when it’s all around you, choking you, engulfing you completely as if it were a living, breathing thing? And you could feel it, too. The power of it.

“Oh fuck,” went I for the third time. Because now I was not alone in the cloud, and the eyes that had been staring back at me from the label on the bottle were no longer on the bottle and were no longer the same eyes. And the face on the bottle had a body, a different body, a new body, and the body was big, and the body was torso on top and cloudy solidness down below, and the face was above mine, and the eyes were staring down upon me, boring through me, piercing what felt like my very soul. Or maybe that was me being a bit overdramatic, but how can you not be overdramatic at a time such as that?

“Master,” boomed the voice that erupted forth from the mouth in the face, the cloud all at once swept from the still-stagnant room. The half torso, half solid cloud still floated above me, still churning in color and lightning and a slight tremble of thunder that reminded me of our drive through Spain, me and Omar number two.

“Paul,” I managed to squeak out.

The face tilted ever so slightly. “Paul? What is a Paul? I do not know this word.” The voice again boomed, rattled my bones, shook the fillings in my mouth. The voice was deep as the ocean, heavy as a boulder, pressing down upon me with each vowel and syllable that was uttered.

“Paul,” I said, sitting back down in my chair. Or falling back down in my chair. Probably the latter. “That is my name. Paul.”

The cloud-man craned down, the eyes barely a foot away. “Paul,” came the voice in a whoosh that washed over me like a tidal wave, the exhale smelling of spices and earth and incense. If you bottled it, it’d sell well. I had a bottle in hand, but, like the room around me, I was sort of also frozen to the spot, and so bottling, at least for the time being, seemed out of the question. “You have freed me, Master Paul.”

I blinked. He did not. He had eyes the color of fresh moss, skin the color of The Rock back in Gibraltar, perhaps a shade darker. He was shirtless, dense with smooth muscle from chest to arms to hands to fingers. And despite the obvious power of him, he looked young, my age, give or take. And as for the cloud below him, it swirled like a cyclone, shooting off sparks as he hovered there. He was beautiful. He was fearsome. I needed to pee. Badly.

 

About the Author 

Rob Rosen is the author of the award-winning novels Sparkle: The Queerest Book You’ll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava, Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort, Fate, Midlife Crisis, Fierce, And God Belched, Mary, Queen of Scotch, Ted of the d’Urbervilles, Sort of Dead, and Genie in a Vodka Bottle, and editor of the anthologies Lust in Time, Men of the Manor, Best Gay Erotica 2015, and Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volumes 1, 2, 3 and 4.

 

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook

 

Giveaway 

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an ebook copy of Genie in a Vodka Bottle

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TASTE (London Love #2) by Sophia Soames #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: TASTE (London Love #2)

Author: Sophia Soames

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Christina Stern

Release Date: November 1, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope: Enemies to lovers

Theme: Hotel, London, Hurt/Comfort

Heat Rating:  4 flames   

Length: 91 000 words

It is a standalone story and the second book in the London Love series. 

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

There is a fine line between love and hate.

 

Blurb

“Emotional, funny, gripping, and heart-wrenching, Sophia Soames’ books pulled me in and stuck with me well after. Highly recommend.” —Jennifer Cody, author of the Diviner’s Game and Shattered Pawns universe.

Finn Christensen doesn’t do feelings. He doesn’t do relationships either and when he has an itch to scratch, there are always clubs and hook-ups. He works every hour of the day as the Front Office manager for the Clouds Westminster Hotel in central London. He’s respected in the industry, and as senior management, deserves the reputation and fear his name carries.
Then award-winning restauranteur Mark Quinton swans in like he owns the bloody place, and Finn’s carefully managed world starts to fall apart.

Mark Quinton needs. He’s impulsive and stupid and childish and probably the last person in the world who should be allowed to run the Food and Beverage department at the Clouds Westminster Hotel, however many brilliant ideas he has and seems to manage to miraculously pull off. He needs. And he needs Finn Christensen.

It’s a match made in hell. A recipe for disaster. There will be a bloodbath one day. They all know. Everyone knows.

TASTE is the second book in the London Love series, following four extraordinary ordinary couples living real fairy-tales in the city of London. TASTE is a hurt/comfort, enemy-to-lovers romance set behind the scenes in a busy inner-city business hotel. 


Trigger-warnings for off-page mentions of domestic violence, kleptomania, depression, ADHD and culinary crimes involving cheese. HEA. 

 

 

Excerpt

Finn Christensen, though, was just that. Textbook dull and insanely boring. The man only owned slick, grey suits, wore the same black tie every goddamn day and needed to learn how to grow a beard. Despite being well into his forties, he had a babyface and a crown of almost angelic blonde curls on the top of his head. He must have mislaid his halo at some point because there was nothing angelic about him.

He never spoke to me, apart from random snide remarks and the trademark eye-rolls he seemed to have honed on me. His thick curls were always a mess of natural perfection, his lips always pursed in a tight scowl, and there were definitely firm muscles showing through the fitted shirts that were his preferred attire. I’d caught him staring at me a few times during these meetings, just a glance, and then he would take a swig of his water bottle and look away. I knew he disliked me. Fuck that—he bloody hated me for some reason I didn’t fully understand.

The problem was, I couldn’t really peg him down, however much I wanted to. He was way above my league professionally, having worked himself up from the ground, gaining experience on the back of some posh hotel management degree. His office displayed an impressive wall full of hospitality diplomas from well-known establishments, and he always looked immaculate, in his bloody posh suit-and-tie combos, while I was happy to slum it in one of my favourite floral shirts and black jeans. I’d heard whispers he’d wanted the F&B gig, but I didn’t believe that. He was the front-of-house manager, which held a lot more clout in the management world than the dude who fiddled around with room service yields and made sure the breakfast service made a profit.

And still he hated me.

I knew he was gay. Everyone did, like they knew I was an equal opportunities kind of guy, swinging freely from having a hot girlfriend to being the man-whore of the moment when I felt that need. We didn’t hold back with those personal need-to-knows in the Clouds hotel world, so we knew most things about everyone in the company. I didn’t even have to fill people in or ask for the low-down because my wait staff were the biggest gossipmongers in the world and happily kept tabs on all the current drama, telling me before things got out of hand, which they did, on a daily basis. Not only did my happily bed-hopping staff shag like rabbits and fall in and out of favour at the drop of a hat, but I had to reluctantly admit to having caused some of that drama myself. My last bed partner had been a woman, but that little affair had conveniently come with no strings attached, like my thrusts usually did.

Hence there I was, staring back at him across the table, noting how his hair was, as always, on the edge of needing a trim. How his angular face lit up in a rare smile at a particularly complimentary comment. The squareness of his shoulders in that well-cut suit. The pout of those lips just made for, well. Ahem. Activities between the sheets, preferably of the kind where he was on his knees with my cock in his mouth. That thought had already been well and truly entertained and had made me ejaculate into my own hands more nights than not these days.

I couldn’t quite pinpoint the time when I’d realised I fancied him. Perhaps even a small part of me wanted him. Yet I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up whenever he was in the room. His voice grated on my nerves to the point where my teeth would grit, and his pompous PowerPoint presentations in these weekly meetings made me sigh a little too loudly.

Which made him stare at me with murder in his eyes. Yup, the feeling was mutual.

Instead of displaying my own totally professional PowerPoint presentation, I found myself standing up and throwing numbers off the top of my head because I was a cocky twat. And all the while, the almighty Mr Christensen sat scowling with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Christensen, don’t you agree?” I smiled at him. He didn’t smile back. “Was my prediction for the new lunch menu not right on track? You were the one who disagreed with the proposed changes. I’m pleased to see that, once again, I was right.” I sprinkled the words lightly, maintaining my pleasant smile as I took in the room, which was mostly amused stares. This showdown had become a weekly thing, and everyone was eagerly awaiting what would most certainly be a brutal comeback.

Right on cue, Finn Christensen raised his hands in a deliberately slow clap.

“Mr Quinton, congratulations on the one per cent profit you added from last week. Less than one per cent. I am more impressed with the massaging you must have done to come up with those figures, because according to Saffiya’s more truthful calculations, looking at last week’s accounting breakdown, you made a further 392-pound loss on the food side.”

Damn. Now Saffiya, our immaculate financial controller, was nodding as well. So yes, we’d made a bit of a loss, but I’d cooked the numbers well, and the reduced staffing figures and portion size reductions were more than covering those numbers for next week.

“Those losses are already considered, and we look forward to a profit-making food side next week with the introduction of our Incredible Desserts concept. The test customers were raving about them last week, and as always, we welcome visits down to our kitchen to sample our wonderfully talented head chef’s new creations. Ben and his team are truly an incredible asset to the chain.”

In another of his signature moves, he was on his feet before I’d even finished the sentence, showing his displeasure by going to stand against the back wall of the room. It made him look taller, angrier, more confident, as well he knew.

“Come on, Quinton,” he droned. “You’re deluded, and we all know it. Demand for in-house meals is high, but unless you want our customers to cross the square and grab McDonald’s from the corner, you need to up your game. We’ve had several complaints about the lack of comfort food on your menu, and Mr Proctor once again demanded we comp his bill due to the lack of fish and chips. You know how important our premium customers are, don’t you, Quinton?”

He banged his head back against the wall as he spoke, clearly annoyed with my dumbass attitude and overbearing confidence. But that was the way I rolled, and the fact that it seemed to annoy him just egged me on.

“No need to speak to me like I am a child.” I smiled demurely. “But if you want me to break down the figures for you…” I paused deliberately. “Then I can explain like I would my five-year-old niece’s maths homework. We made a profit overall and scored 4.92 on customer satisfaction. Seventy-two per cent of last week’s guests took one or more meals in our restaurant.”

“We offer free breakfast, mate,” he cut back. “Which means twenty-eight per cent of our clients couldn’t face our breakfast. Not a particularly good score.”

I hated him. I hated him so fucking much.

 

About the Author 

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Find me on social media @sophiasoames on all platforms

Christina Stern is a Russian based artist. Quick sketches and portraits drawn in pencil are what she likes to do the most. Her work can be found on @christinastern on Instagram

Aurelia Morris is a cover artist, photographer, Photoshop wiz and eternal fangirl. She works in many mediums under more aliases that she can keep track of.

 

Social Media Links

Facebook Group: Sophia Soames’ Little Harbour  |  Twitter  |  Instagram 

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The Yakuza Path 6: Wrapped in Screams by Amy Tasukada

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Yakuza Path: Wrapped in Screams

Author: Amy Tasukada

Publisher:  Marcarons & Tea

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: November 4, 2021

Genre: Gay thriller, Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Bad boys, hurt/comfort, boss/secretary, slow burn romance

Themes: Friends to lovers

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 37 500 words/ 184 pages

Though the story is self-contained, it is best enjoyed if read as part of the series.

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Universal Link    |   Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

A gunshot. A bloody note. And a relationship that might not survive…

 

Blurb

Now that the war with the Korean syndicate is behind him, all Nao Murata wants is a vacation and a chance to nurture his new relationship with Aki Hisona. They can punish those who abandoned the family later.

After six weeks trapped in a hospital bed, a quiet vacation is the last thing Aki wants. Ready to prove himself to Nao and the rest of the family, Aki’s desperate for some action. And not just the yakuza kind…

When Aki hears a gunshot, he knows the dust has far from settled. Nao says it can wait, but Aki’s unable to understand why they can’t tie up those loose ends. 

Between Aki’s constant pushing and Nao’s uncompromising focus on what he thinks is best for them both, are they too stubborn for their fragile relationship to last?

Find out in The Yakuza Path: Wrapped in Screams, the sixth installment of The Yakuza Path thriller series. If you like gritty Japanese crime, complex characters, and a high dose of gay romance, then you’ll love Amy Tasukada’s latest novel.

 

Buy Wrapped in Screams to get your taste of romantic revenge today!

 

The Yakuza Path Series

BOOK 1 – Blood Stained Tea

BOOK 2 – Better Than Suicide

BOOK 3 – One Thousand Cranes

BOOK 4 – The Deafening Silence

BOOK 5 – Flowers of Flesh and Blood

BOOK 6 – Wrapped in Screams

 

 

Excerpt 

“Of course I want you to sleep with me.” Aki placed a hand suggestively on Nao’s thigh.

Aki couldn’t think of anything else that would make him happier than having Nao’s cock rip him in half. Though Aki doubted he could get his up even if he wanted to. Skipping the pain meds to get his libido back was the next thing on his to-do list. The hospital had only given him a two-week supply. So far he hadn’t hurt too much and they’d mostly made him tired. It would still probably take a few days for the narcotics to completely leave his system, but he and Nao could mess around until then.

“We need to be careful.” Nao brushed Aki’s hand away.

Tightness gripped Aki’s chest and clawed at his throat. Nao pushed him away again. After everything Aki had been through, after everything Aki had done for him, it was like nothing had changed between them.

“We couldn’t even kiss yesterday without you becoming breathless,” Nao added.

It sounded so cruel. Why did it have to hurt so much? Aki looked away, but Nao cupped Aki’s face. The gesture lessened the pain, but it still stabbed.

Nao’s eyebrows drew together. “I don’t want you hurt because of something I did ever again. There’s a whole list of things you can’t do.”

“The doctors were being cautious.”

“There’s a gaping hole in your chest.”

“It’s six centimeters. That’s hardly gaping.”

“I don’t want you back in the hospital because of an infection. It can happen to anyone. It happened to me when I didn’t listen to my doctor.”

“And because you weren’t taking your antibiotics.”

“That’s true.” Nao laughed.

“Are you going to kiss me at least?”

Nao leaned over until their lips touched. He was cautious at first as if asking permission. Aki opened his mouth, and Nao’s tongue entered. Aki’s muscles relaxed, and he willed his fears to subside. Nao wasn’t going to bend him against the nearest surface and screw him raw like in Aki’s fantasies, but Nao wasn’t saying it would never happen. All Aki had to do was convince Nao he was fine, and in a few days, they’d be banging like rabbits.

Nao licked at Aki’s bottom lip before pulling away. He pressed their foreheads together.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” Nao asked.

Aki nodded. “You’ll at least help me change my bandages, right?”

“You’ll have to teach me.”

Aki pulled off his undershirt, hiding a grimace of pain in the cloth. He wanted to be alluring. Nao had seen him shirtless plenty of times, but it would be the first so close. Aki glanced over his shoulder suggestively, but Nao was focused on taking the bandages out of the plastic bag.

Aki sighed. Changing his bandages wasn’t sexy, but he’d hoped the undressing part would be.

 

About the Author 

International best-selling author Amy Tasukada writes thrilling times of crime, love, and gore. Readers who crave diverse characters, unique settings, and edge-of-your-seat action will devour her Yakuza Path series. Readers who seek less blood and more love will swoon over the Yakuza Path Romance and Would it Be Okay to Love You? Series. Amy is an atheist, queer author who enjoys drinking tea, Japanese street fashion and visual kei music.  Her calico cat, O’Hara, is never far from her side. Amy lives in North Texas, but is always planning her next trip to Japan.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |    Instagram   

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Seashell Virgin by Steve Schatz #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Seashell Virgin

Author: Steve Schatz

Publisher: Any Summer Sunday Books

Cover Artist: James – GoOnWrite.com

Release Date: October 31, 2021

Genre: Humorous Mystery, Gay Friends, Drag

Tropes: Friends overcoming haters,

Themes: Empowering, humor

Heat Rating:  2 flames

Length: 85 000 words/ 288 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. 

It is part of a series with related characters and themes, but reading the other books in the series is not required. 

Goodreads 

 

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

Mystery, Wit & Drag Queens 

Blurb 

Fast-paced fun. Touching and tawdry. Churchies, crooks, and rapscallions scheme to close our only gay bar, rape a forest, and get rich with a gay-hating charter school. Break-ins, kidnapping, threats, blackmail, bondage, and the most spectacular drag show the world has ever seen, thrill and delight you as the anti-heroes from Nacho Mama’s Patio Cafe once more answer the call to set things straight, as it were.

 

 

Excerpt 

Chapter 1 – Some Days Suck

Gone! A fourteen-foot truck packed to the tits with geegaws, gowns, and glamour—spirited away. I had parked it right here, less than thirty minutes before, obvious as a zit on a first date, across the street from Hoosier Daddy, the town’s only gay bar. Close, so when I got stuck carrying everything TiaRa del Fuego chose into the dressing rooms backstage, I’d have less of a struggle. I had already been far too butch for a day off. I had planned for a day full of napping, occasional attempts at cleaning, some light reading, and more napping. Then Beau showed up far too early and ever since, I had been far too active for someone of my tender years and with my lack of motivation.

All that splendor had not just walked itself into the van. No, these arms, these legs, and this back had been repeatedly besmirched by physical effort and all were letting their displeasure be known. When I’d pulled up to the bar a few minutes earlier, I wanted, needed, and deserved a drink, possibly two—while I described the glories that awaited in the truck to TiaRa and Suave. Timmy had laid the groundwork and my ebullience had sealed the deal. TiaRa had said she positively hungered for the gowns and baubles. Suave KitTan had declared she already had a plan to sneak a quantity of the lovely things into her store, Suave Delights, while evading the watchful eye of her devoted husband Foxy, who had once again decreed no new stock was allowed until there were sales to match. Suave was always much more interested in acquisition than disposition. All that remained between me and a lovely lie down was the actual hand over. So, we went out to complete the exchange. Simple. But there the truck wasn’t.

“Are you sure you parked it here?” asked TiaRa in much the same tone a mother uses when asking, “Where did you see it last?”

Swallowing my frustration, I managed to contain my impulse to point out that my age and mental abilities had not declined to such an extent that I would have forgotten where I had parked the truck in such a short time. TiaRa, a delicate being, did not deserve snippy replies, despite my rising alarm.

The truck had been either towed or stolen. One possibility was expensive, and the other horrifying. I had just promised the contents to TiaRa and Suave and I hated to disappoint them. Far worse, the truck was actually the property of my latest job. I had only recently been given keys to the shop and knew where the keys to the truck were kept. No one had been at work when Beau’s moving emergency arose. The truck wasn’t scheduled to be used, so I had borrowed it without asking. I just left a note for Brian, the owner. I knew this was generally acceptable. Others had done it, but I was new and hadn’t taken the liberty before. If the truck was in any way damaged, I would be looking for a new job. If it had been stolen, I might be looking for a lawyer. I do not handle stress well. My mouth tends to make talking motions without actually forming words. Tia and Suave looked at me with growing concern.

Maybe the churchies, I thought.

 

About the Author

Steve Schatz writes with a crazy mashup of laughs and excitement and humor. Readers can’t stop reading, but don’t want the story to end. Each book is an adventure where endearing anti-heroes struggle against this crazy world and triumph using the twin forces of intentional, creative action and friends helping friends.  Schatz draws on a lifetime of varied and fascinating experiences, from instructional designer and college prof to party clown and nightclub owner.

His series of adult fiction highlights a group of middle-aged gay friends who gather every week in a small, Indiana college town. Mixing drinks, snappy repartee, and the humor and joy of long-time friends, in one book they rescue the fair drag queen from an obvious miscreant. In another, they ride to the protection of a lesbian candidate for judge who is being targeted by mysterious evil-doers. The excitement reveals itself against a backdrop of drag performance and efforts by anti-heroes. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll beg for more. Steve Schatz offers a new voice and a smile for the LGBT community and their friends.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Twitter: @AnySummerSunday

Facebook  |   Newsletter sign-up

 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

an ebook of each of the 3 books in the series

(Any Summer Sunday, Who Plugged the Dyke, and Seashell Virgin)

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Wicked Lovely (The Black Blade Chronicles, Book 1) by J.K. Hogan #kindleunlimited #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Wicked Lovely (The Black Blade Chronicles, Book 1)

Author: J.K. Hogan

Publisher:  Euphoria Press

Cover Artist: J.K. Hogan @ www.wickedpixeldesigns.com

Release Date: October 12, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers

Themes: Adventure/quest (kind of Game of Thrones-esque but queer)

Heat Rating: 4 flames   

Length: 90 000 words

It is the first book in the series and not a standalone story. There will be an HEA over a three-book arc. The first book isn’t quite a cliffhanger, more of a to be continued ending.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

A new series that combines the adventure and magic of epic fantasy with the enchantment of romance

 

Blurb

Darkness grows in the realm of Taleth. To the west, a power-hungry despot schemes to conquer kingdoms and territories alike by chasing an ancient elven prophecy that could give him the power to rule all. In the east, after a prince’s murder goes years unanswered, a princess learns there was much more to her brother’s death—and to her life—than she realized.

The House of Kjenelach is shaken to its foundation when Princess Sigrid is stolen away. Her faithful guardian, Sir Senne Clayward, reluctantly accepts help from his nemesis, a notorious halfling mercenary of questionable morals—but indispensable tracking skills—called Kasimir vas Hjardar.

Kasimir makes his living hunting monsters, both creatures and men. While he exists outside the law, he lives by his own unassailable code of honor. At the top of that list: never harm a child. When he turns down a contract to kidnap Sigrid and later finds out she was taken by someone else, he offers his help to the prickly knight tasked with protecting her.

Together, they embark upon a journey across the continent to save Sigrid and foil King Prosper’s plans to conquer Taleth. The way is fraught with dangers and pitfalls, from supernatural beasts to Senne’s deathly fear of magic, but they must not fail, for Sigrid may very well be the savior of the realm: the long prophesied Aisnellach Fuil. Somehow, the two men must set their differences aside and work together to rescue Sigrid, and possibly find love along the way.

 

 

Excerpt

Senne awoke to a skull-shattering headache. What the devil had happened to him? Surely he was dead. But shouldn’t one’s pain end after death? No, not dead, then. He was lying on something. He felt it, lumpy and scratchy beneath him. He attempted to blink his eyes open past the thick, drugging pain in his skull. He glimpsed a dark, empty room, a fire blazing merrily in front of him.

Senne must have lost consciousness, for it seemed like he blinked only once and a man appeared, sitting in a chair next to the fire and stropping the blade of…a small ax.

The next time Senne blinked, the man was still by the fire, but he wore nothing but loose, black trews. He was no longer stropping, but braiding his long sable-colored hair. For each braid, he would start at the hairline at his forehead and plait backward halfway down his skull, leaving the lower part of his hair loose.

Senne couldn’t help but notice the way the muscles in his broad back and thick arms bunched and rolled as he worked. But as some of the fog in Senne’s head began to clear, he realized what he was seeing: five braids in the elven style. An elf? Except this man was much too large, not willowy and slender like elves tended to be. His ears were slightly peaked rather than long and pointed. A halfling then. Wait, surely he couldn’t be that halfling, could he?

“I know you’re awake,” the halfling said as he finished his last braid. “Are you planning my death while you lie there pretending to be unconscious? You’ve already failed once, and you’re in no condition to be more successful this time.”

“I…” Gods, his head hurt. Senne could barely hang on to a single thought. His gut was telling him this man was an enemy but when he’d been at his most vulnerable, the halfling hadn’t hurt him. In fact, he was possibly…helping him?

“Who are you?”

“I am called Kasimir vas Hjardar, the Black Blade of Andrahar. Though your young maid insists upon calling me Kas.”

“Sigrid!” Senne gasped, bolting upright, then whimpering as the room spun and his head pounded. He had to pinch his lips together to keep from vomiting.

Kasimir swore and stood. “Lie down, you bloody idiot.” His words were harsh but his hands were gentle as he eased Senne back down on the lumpy cot.

“Sigrid,” Senne said again, slightly calmer but no less anxious. “I was with her. We were riding back to the Keep…”

“After you shot me.”

Senne cleared his throat and his gaze involuntarily sought out Kasimir’s right leg. He was surprised to see some sort of splinting device strapped to it. “Yes, well… I apologize for that. I was beside myself with worry when she ran away, and I…misread the situation.”

“Egregiously,” the halfling added in a bland tone.

“Yes, well…” Senne sighed. Fair enough. “After she and I talked about, ah, other things, she explained what happened. You were long gone by then, I’m afraid. Again, my sincerest apologies.”

Kasimir said nothing. He simply pulled his chair from the hearth to Senne’s bedside and sat. And waited, arched eyebrows raised.

“I don’t remember anything after that. What happened? H-how did I get here? Where’s Sigrid? D-did you do something to her?”

Kasimir sneered, his half-elven nature evident in his pointy eye teeth. “‘What happened’ is someone nearly smashed in your melon, didn’t they? I don’t bloody know who it was, and I certainly didn’t do anything to the maid.”

Senne glared at him, disbelieving. “Then why have our paths crossed again, eh? Black Blade indeed.”

“Oh, I was instrumental in our paths crossing again. After my mate patched the old leg up, I tracked you. I was going to kill you for that arrow.”

Senne growled, which only made the halfling grin. Senne couldn’t blame him. A growl from a man as weak as kitten wasn’t exactly threatening.

“I was on my way when your horse came stampeding through the woods. ‘Course I didn’t know it was your horse at the time. I caught him, and he wanted to go north so that’s what we did—”

“The horse wanted to go north?” The halfling lowered his eyes, and Senne could’ve sworn he blushed. “Elven witchery,” Senne spat.

“Oi, if that’s what it is, then elven witchery saved your useless hide.”

Senne couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

“When I found you, you were unconscious and leaking blood from your noggin like a sieve. There was no sign of the girl.”

“You set out to kill me, so why am I here…and where is here?”

“You might not believe I have any honor, but I’m not a murderer. I wasn’t going to kill someone who was defenseless, and I wasn’t about to leave a man to slowly bleed to death or get picked apart by forest predators. There are few I’d wish that kind of death on. So I slung you over your Dagfinn and led him to my mate’s cabin.”

The halfling watched Senne with his unsettling blue eyes, so blue as to be almost colorless, slightly tipped up and ringed in inky black lashes. He was waiting for something, but Senne had no idea what.

Senne licked his dry, cracked lips. “Why? Why bring me to this hovel instead of dumping me in the village and letting someone else take the burden?”

A muscle twitched in Kasimir’s jaw. “First of all, this hovel belongs to my oldest friend, and it’s thanks to him that you’re lying comfortably in a bed right now instead of in a shallow grave, so have some respect.” He paused to calm his ire before speaking again. “As to your question, I don’t much like the village. Each time I go somehow results in almost losing my life. Besides, I’m still healing from my own injury…” He glared at Senne. “And the cottage was closer. I have a small amount of healing magic in my ‘elven witchery’ quiver, and it’s kept you alive so far. I want you to heal so that when I kill you, it will have been a fair fight.”

Senne snorted. He might quite enjoy sparring with the halfling when they were both at full strength. The amusing thought gave way to worry, however, then panic over Sigrid. Where was she? Was she even alive? He tried to sit up again, this time fighting through the dizziness and nausea that swamped him.

“Oi!” Kasimir rubbed a hand over his face in a mark of clear exasperation. “I’m still not entirely sure you’re not going to die of that cracked skull of yours. I’m not that good a healer, only a halfling after all,” he said with derision.

Senne winced. “Yes, I know, but I have to take that chance. I have to find Sigrid. I can’t even go to the Guard for help, because if what you said is true, we still have traitors in our midst. No one can be trusted. I’ve got to go after her.

Kasimir looked toward the precarious ceiling of the shack and swore. “Can’t believe I’m gonna say this…but if you’ll just stay here one more day or so, get some food in you and let the magic do its work… I’ll help you bloody track her.”

“Why?” Senne asked suspiciously. “Why would you do that for me, someone you’d intended to kill?”

Kasimir looked horrified. “You? I’ll not be doin’ it for you. I’m fond of the girl, all right? She saved me from being garroted when she felled the third highwayman. And besides, I think I might…have an idea who took her.”

Senne sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and stared at the halfling for long moments. “What?

 

About the Author 

J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, she found her true passion. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them.

J.K. resides in North Carolina with her husband, two sons, and their pets. If she isn’t writing, J.K. can be found designing book covers at Wicked Pixel Designs, creating fiber art and supplies at Earthbound Fiber Arts watching Hurricanes Hockey and, of course, reading!

 

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter

Instagram  |   Amazon  |  Pinterest

 

 

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

your choice of ebook from the author’s backlist

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Blog Tour and Author Interview – The Tiergarten Tales by Paolo G. Grossi

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: The Tiergarten Tales

Author: Paolo G. Grossi

Publisher: The Conrad Press

Cover Artist: Charlotte Mouncey 

Release Date: May 31, 2021

Genres: LGBTQ+ / Historical Fiction

Tropes: Boys’ friendship 

Themes: Toxic masculinity and fatherly love

Heat Rating: 3 flames       

Length: 90 035 words / 384 pages

It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Waterstones

 

Berlin. Its boys. Their stories

 

Blurb

Boys and men of Berlin. A captivating journey through their lives, love affairs and misdemeanours across the city’s turbulent history. 

Felix and Walther bestride a deep class divide, forging an enduring bond in 1890s Prussia. Kaspar and Max navigate the fraught upheavals of the Weimar Republic by skilfully marketing the only commodity in demand. Young Kazimierz leaves his impoverished Silesian village and sets off on an epic journey to the Prussian capital, the seat of an ageing Frederick the Great. His heavenly beauty, endearing naivety and, ultimately, fate will transform his life once through the gates of the city.

Echoes within echoes. Circles within circles. Wealth, poverty and moral compromise. The privilege and toxic masculinity of the Prussian officer class.

 

INTERVIEW PROMPTS

The prized possession you value above all others…

My opera CDs.

The unqualified regret you wish you could amend…

Dropping out of university.

 The temptation you wish you could resist…

‘The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it’. Oscar Wilde.

The book that holds everlasting resonance…

The Persian Boy by Mary Renault.

The film you can watch time and time again…

‘Once upon a time in America’, by Sergio Leone.

The person who influenced you the most…

Soren Kierkegaard: ‘Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced’. I wrote an essay about him in High School. It was a great success (it had a lot of sex in it).

The event that altered the course of your life…

Coming out to my family. It didn’t go well.

The song that means the most to you…

‘So in love’, by Cole Porter.

The happiest moment you will cherish forever…

Moving to London.

The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…

Until last year, writing and publishing my first book. Now it’s the second.

Your early recollections of writing fiction…

Editing the school journal. Even then I couldn’t do real stories and my articles were all fantasy!

The way you would spend your fantasy twenty-four hours, with no travel restrictions…

Galloping furiously with Theseus towards Athens. Naked.

And then sleeping with him (if he’d let me).

The pet hate that makes your hackles rise…

Bigotry, moralism and provincialism. They make me sick.

The figure from history you would most like to buy a pie and a pint…

Frederick the Great, king of Prussia and unrepentant homosexual.

The piece of wisdom you would pass onto a child…

Read Kierkegaard.

The philosophy that underpins your life…

See Kierkegaard’s quote.

The character you enjoyed writing the most…

Felix. The main character in The Tiergarten Tales. Handsome, charming, popular, competitive and wealthy. Yet reckless, occasionally insufferable and ultimately self-destructive.

The character you found difficult to write…

The ladies. I know little of them.

And the promo…

 The Tiergarten Tales

Ten short stories following the lives, love affairs and misdemeanours of men and boys of Berlin across its turbulent history.

In modern day Berlin young Karl falls for glamorous Bill, an American with a mid-life crisis as big as his bank balance.

Felix and Walther bestride a deep class divide in an enduring bond in 1890s Prussia.

Kaspar and Max navigate the fraught political upheavals of the Weimar Republic by skilfully marketing the only commodity in demand, unaware that it will lead them onto different and dangerous paths in their lives.

Roland and Heiko spend a blissful summer of true friendship sailing on a boat along the placid waters of the Wannsee, revealing to each other repressed truths.

Young Kazimierz leaves his impoverished Silesian village on an epic journey to the Prussian capital, the seat of an ageing Frederick the Great, not knowing that his heavenly beauty, endearing naivety and ultimately fate will transform his life once through the gates of the city.

The Tiergarten sometimes shields them, at times threatens them or merely witnesses their quest for love, adventure, friendship and survival.

Echoes within echoes. Circles within circles. Wealth, poverty and moral compromise. The privilege and toxic masculinity of the Prussian officer class.

 

Thank you, Paolo.

 

Excerpt from The Lodger

Grey sky. It has been so for the last few days, or weeks, months perhaps. It had been his decision to move here so there is no one else to blame. That irks him no end, no

one to blame, no one to shout at.

Up here on the sixth floor one can barely hear the traf-

fic below and there is never much of it anyway; it’s early morning and he lives on a quiet and leafy street, upmarket, expensive, unaffordable for most people.

The air is warm and all he wears is pyjama bottoms; he prefers to walk around the apartment barefoot though he misses a soft thick carpet. But more often than not homes come with beautiful wooden parquet here: beautiful but uncomfortable for his feet which have lost some of the supple elasticity they used to have. Age, always age; he wishes he could log out from thinking about ageing.

Coffee time. He walks back inside through the French doors and inserts a capsule in the machine, the mechanical noise reassuring, another morning with the same routine.

Frau Greta is on her way and he needs to get out. It’s his rule number one or, rather, hers: get out of the cleaning lady’s way, you’re just a hindrance and when she took on the job she dropped a few stern hints which allowed no debate. Very German, he smiles.

No breakfast at home; he’ll walk to the Bismarck Bistro for mid-morning brunch. The temperature is warm enough to sit outside with just a light jacket and watch the world go by.

Except that it never does. The bistro is quaint and the fare of good quality but it never seems to be that busy, though the lack of a crowd has lately developed into a pleasure rather than a shortcoming.

Either way the bistro is close, reasonably priced, and on the edge of that vast and wild forest in the centre of the city peculiarly described as a ‘garten’.

He’s ready now and he feels pleasantly casual: slacks, a polo and a light blue jacket. A scarf around his neck protects him from the light breeze.

And sunglasses. He has spent a good chunk of his previous life in a part of the world where everyone wore sunglasses, outdoor and indoor. You could never see anyone’s eyes. Beautiful eyes, old eyes, blue, green, black, it didn’t matter; they were all behind dark lenses. All the fucking time.

But he has kept the habit; perhaps one day he’ll lose it. Habits come and go.

He strolls along the oak-lined paths before turning towards the bistro. Empty roads. Is that Sunday? Perhaps not, but the roads are always empty here anyway. Which he loves. Or not. He’s not yet sure.

When he reaches the bistro, he lazily scans the area: a few tables outside, almost empty as usual, one middle-aged guy tapping away at his laptop in the far corner.

He takes a seat and then remembers the free newspapers inside so he gets up again and strolls in to pick up a copy of the Morgenpost.

Ella is at the till. The owner greets him in a low voice and with a smile. She must do that with all the regular customers, he thinks, but he likes it as it makes him feel special even if he is dead sure he isn’t.

After three years his German has improved dramatically. He has subjected himself to a gruelling and eye-wateringly expensive blitz of private tuitions. He can now finish read- ing long-winded and often completely irrelevant opinion pieces. Nothing much ever seems to happen here anyway. He prefers books to news but he forgot to bring one along.

‘Good morning sir, what can I get you today?’

Not Ella’s voice. It sounds soft and warm, young, almost female though clearly not.

As he turns, a young man of perhaps less than twenty stands there with a smile and detectable eagerness. The eagerness of the new employee, the excitement of a new job, the freshness of a new chapter.

The boy gently shifts the wheat blond fringe along his forehead; a pair of black framed spectacles sits on his angular nose, the thick prescription lenses magnifying his light blue eyes.

‘Good morning, let’s see: a cappuccino for a start, I haven’t decided on the food, may I have a minute?’

‘Sure, sir, I’ll get the drink ready for you, take your time.’

The manners are calm and polite. Unassuming, he ponders.

After a few minutes the young man returns with the cappuccino and briefly stands there, clearly waiting for the order but with no impatient insistence.

 

About the Author 

Paolo G. Grossi was born and raised in Milan. Thirty years ago, he spent a weekend in London  and decided to stay. Like most Italians, opera and the visual arts are his main passions. When not writing, you will surely find him attending a performance, visiting a museum and, of course, spending some time cycling in Berlin or around the Wannsee. He lives in London with his partner David. 

The Tiergarten Tales is his first book.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Instagram

 

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New Release – Finishing Last by Rob Browatzke

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Finishing Last 

Author: Rob Browatzke 

Publisher: Sisyphus Press 

Cover Artist: Alexandria Corza 

Release Date: Halloween

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance 

Trope. Friends to lovers

Themes: Found family

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 70 000 words/ 245 pages

It is a standalone story within a series

Goodreads – River City Romances Series 

 

Buy Links

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK  

 

Mitch Morris is a nice guy – and you know what they say about them.

 

Blurb

Mitch Morris is starting over in a new apartment when he meets a handsome new neighbor. Dan Murphy is starting over in a new city when he meets a handsome new neighbor.

They DON’T hook up.

Instead, they become friends, and slowly, more than friends. But when they both start dating other people, it’s increasingly obvious there’s something between them. Nice guys don’t cheat though, and besides, who would risk a friendship on the chance of something more?

 

Excerpt 

“It doesn’t matter,” he told Dan. “We are not running Sunday —and I don’t care how many times you say Kyle McFall,” he added, sticking his fingers in his ears. “Sunday is Halloween, and that means we will both be far too hungover from Saturday’s Halloween parties to even think about running.”

“We could just not get drunk, you know. That’s a thing. That people do.”

“Not my people!” Mitch said. “Halloween Saturday is my literal favorite day of the year.”

“That’s what you said about Gay Day,” Dan said. “And about Pride. And about the day Duncan had his two-for-one special.”

“You know, I get that we’re friends, but sometimes, I really wish you didn’t pay so much attention to everything I say. You’ve got this annoying habit of throwing my own words back in my face, and it really is the most unattractive thing you do.”

Dan shrugged, grinning. “What’s so special about Halloween?”

“What’s so special about Halloween? What’s so special about Halloween?” Mitch forced his voice to screech.

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

“Oh, you little tiny gayby,” Mitch said. “What did they teach you back in that backwater town of yours?”

“Isn’t your hometown like five hundred people?”

“Yes,” Mitch said, “and every single one of them celebrates Halloween. But that doesn’t even

matter, because you see, Halloween is something more for gay people. It’s like Christmas and your birthday and the best blowjob ever all rolled into one.”

“Do you ever worry that your constant exaggerating ever builds things up to a point where people are let down?”

“Did I let you down about Pride?” Mitch asked. Dan shook his head. “Or about that two for one special?” Dan let out a laugh. “See? I never steer you wrong. Now, what are you being?”

“Like, for my costume? I have no idea.” “Daniel! It is only two weeks away.”

“Do you already know what you’re doing?”

“Since July,” Mitch said. “I have to say, I’m outdoing even myself this year.”

“What are you doing then?”

“No! A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“But, you just asked me!”

Mitch chuckled. “Oh, Dan,” he said. “Poor little gayby Dan. You are many things but you’re not a magician.”

It was a brave front that Mitch was putting on, because the truth was, he had no idea what he was going to be. He and Kent had normally done a pair of costumes, which hit a brilliant new level a few years before when they’d actually gone as a pair of pears. But this year, Kent and Dylan were doing a couples costumes, because of course they were that kind of couple, and it was probably going to be something super lame, like Romeo and Julien or some shit. But Mitch was idealess.

He was never idealess on Halloween. He had suggested to Ellis that they do a couples costume, which he normally hated; best friends together was fine, but boyfriends matching was just gay, and not in the good buttsex sense of the word. But Ellis was going as Black Panther.

“Why don’t you tell me what to go as?” Dan asked suddenly. “Since you’re the expert and all.”

Intrigued, Mitch gave that a ponder. Sometimes it was easier to dress someone else, and maybe that would give Mitch the inspiration he needed for himself. It had to be different. Most of the people at The Torch were just going to be slutty superheroes or slutty animals or slutty somethings, anything for an excuse to be out for a night in as little clothing as possible. This wasn’t something Mitch minded, overly. In fact, he looked forward to the beautiful men, but when it came to his own, he usually wanted a bit of commentary. After all, there was a thousand dollar grand prize on the line, and who couldn’t use that?

 

 

About the Author

Rob Browatzke doesn’t believe in writing what he knows – that’s why he delivers gay romance with happy endings! Equal parts sarcasm and kindness, he has been writing as long as he can remember. When not writing, he can be found actively involved in local queer nightlife, where he has made a career since the late 1900s. He lives in Edmonton Alberta, but don’t hold that against him. Feel free to stalk him on social media.

 

Author Links

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter @robbrowatzke  | Instagram @robbrowatzke

 

 

 

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The Schoolmaster’s Spy by Ruby Moone @RubyMooneWriter #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Schoolmaster’s Spy

Author: Ruby Moone 

Publisher: Self-Published 

Cover Artist: Meredith Russell 

Release Date: October 28, 2021 

Genre: Regency MM 

Tropes: School Crushes / King’s spy with trust issues & geeky school master 

Themes: Trust, love, finding a family, self-acceptance 

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 93 000 words

It is book three in the Winsford Green Series and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Book 1 – Dances Long Forgotten

Book 2 – People Like Us 

Goodreads Series 

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link   |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

 

Mark Dexter was the one boy that schoolmaster, Felix Brook, never forgot. Ten years later, he’s back… 

 

Blurb

With Bonaparte defeated, King’s spy, Captain Mark Dexter is furious at being sent to investigate the latest headmaster of his old school, rather than a smuggling ring on the south coast. Things look up considerably when he realises that the schoolmaster he admired above all others, Felix Brook, is still there. The man who listened to him, the man who cared about him, the man who is still out of bounds. With only half an eye on the job, Dexter puts Felix in a compromising position. The mission goes catastrophically wrong, leaving Felix to bear the brunt of the repercussions. With his commanding officer after his blood, and Felix running from him, Dexter is desperate to put things right.

Felix Brook, schoolmaster, is devoted to Hestingley’s school and its pupils. His life is quiet and unremarkable, but When Mark Dexter turns up at an Old Boys’ dinner, he turns Felix’s life inside out. In the decade since he last saw him, the wild, unpredictable schoolboy has become a devastatingly handsome man. Felix can scarcely believe it when Dexter makes his attraction clear, it’s like a dream come true. Until it all goes wrong.

Reluctantly thrown together at the Winsford Green annual Summer Fete, Felix and Dexter attempt to piece together what happened, rebuild trust, and deal with the searing passion that still burns between them. When the truth is finally revealed, Felix must not only prove his innocence, but hold tightly to love as Dexter’s world crumbles beneath him.

 

Excerpt

Felix yelled aloud at the shock of running into someone in the dark corridor. A firm hand clamped over his mouth and Felix clutched the strong arm that held him. When the hand eased a little, he was wondering frantically what to say by way of explanation for his presence, when a wave of sandalwood mingled with leather hit him. There was only one person in the world who smelled like that. Only one person with that underlying scent of manliness. He swallowed and stared at the floor, gathering his composure. Why would Dexter be here? Why? The conclusion he drew both terrified and exhilarated him.

The hand over his mouth lifted and Felix had to make himself not lick his lips.

“Brook?” It was him. Mark Dexter was standing in front of him, one arm holding him tight. Felix had regretted not taking up the earlier, blatant invitation with every fibre of his being. Castigated himself as an abject looby for not responding with at least a smidgeon of sophistication and behaving like the insular, lonely schoolmaster he was.

“You followed me.” He hadn’t a clue what else to say.

“Is that what you think?”

Felix had to look up at that. “Well, why else are you here?”

Moonlight shone through the window beside them, casting a ghostly glow over Dexter’s head, making his hair look darker and his eyes gleam.

“Why else indeed,” Dexter whispered and stepped closer. Felix’s instinct was to run, but he held his ground. This was probably the last chance he would get to spend time with him. Who was he fooling? Spend time? He didn’t want to spend time, he wanted to… Well, he didn’t know what in God’s name he wanted but it involved Captain Mark Dexter in his rooms. In his bed, leaning over him, kissing him, feeling the weight of him. Christ, he wanted him naked.

“Do you want me to leave?” Dexter was so close he could feel the warmth from his body.

This was it. All he had to do was say ‘yes’ and he was sure that Dexter would leave. He had done so last time.

“Mr. Brook?”

“My name is Felix,” he said, surprised at how deep and rough his voice was.

A smile spread across Dexter’s sculpted features. “Felix,” he whispered as though tasting the word on his tongue.

“You can’t be calling me Mr. Brook. That man was your teacher.”

“And this man, Felix?”

Felix shivered as Dexter moved closer. He touched his nose to Felix’s ear and the breath left Felix’s chest. His eyes fluttered closed, his mouth opened on a soundless word, and he leaned into the contact.

Dexter’s hand slid around Felix’s waist, and he pulled him a tiny bit nearer. He pushed his nose against Felix’s cheek and nuzzled. Felix felt the soft warmth of his breath, the scent of his skin, and the latent strength in the body that stood so, so close.

“Might this man, Felix, be my lover for tonight?”

 

 

About the Author

Ruby Moone lives in the wilds of Lancashire with her husband and writes historical and contemporary romance. At school, her teachers said that she lived with her head in the clouds and if she didn’t stop daydreaming she would never get anywhere. She never did stop daydreaming, and after years of happily living in the clouds, decided to write the stories down.

 

Social Media links

Facebook Page  |  Facebook Group – Ruby’s Room  

Twitter  |  Instagram  |  Tumblr

Webpage and Newsletter sign up

 

 

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Dancing Before the Crash by C.C. Everill #kindleunlimited #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Dancing Before the Crash

Author:  C.C. Everill

Publisher: Self-published in conjunction with Ronni Sanlo Literary (www.ronnisanlo.com)

Cover Artist:  Barbara Gottlieb (gottgraphix.com)

Release Date: April 25, 2021

Genre: Memoir

Trope: Friends and lovers

Themes: Gay life 1977-1989

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length:  72 388 words/386 pages

It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

Imagine finding someone’s diary – would you read it?

 

Blurb

In 1977, a 22-year-old man moved to NYC to pursue his dream.  His journal tells of his romances, friendships, clubbing while attempting to “make it” in the big city.  The author’s diary takes us from the early days of the 1970’s disco era through the devastating AIDS epidemic. If you lived through this era or are interested in LGBTQ+ history, this book offers insight from a survivor.

 

 

Excerpt 

Sunday, April 26, 1981

It is now 3:30 a.m. and I’m not able sleep. I can’t stop thinking about last Sunday, which was Easter, so I thought I would get up and write about it.

Jesse was changing into his bellmen’s uniform when I entered the locker room on Saturday before work. He was in a chatty mood and said the rash had disappeared.

“I have an idea. How about if you come home with me tonight and then tomorrow, we can spend Easter together?”

What a surprise! I accepted.

Easter was delightful. We walked the dogs to the Village and had brunch on The Patio. After eating, we walked back to Jesse’s apartment and got high while drinking beer on the roof. It was a warm sunny day and since we were both slightly sweating, we took showers before leaving for work.

That was a week ago. Our first night of sleeping together since the night we partied at The Saint. Tonight, while we were in line at the cafeteria, Gerald the server commented that he constantly sees us together.

“That’s because we’re both the same age and from Colorado and worked together at another job.” Jesse explained.

I wanted to add that we are compatible, sleep together now and then, and enjoy each other’s company. Instead, I smiled. Don’t want to upset the apple cart.

After work, we smoked a few joints in Central Park and then walked to a nearby diner for a bite to eat.

P.S. Earlier this week, Jesse invited me to accompany him to his parent’s house in May to celebrate our birthdays.

“Oh, that sounds great, but I’m not sure about a trip to Colorado.”

“We’re not going to Colorado. They live in Connecticut, remember? We can rent a car.”

I forgot that his parents lived in Connecticut. We talk so much about being from Colorado. As I recall, on the first night we met he told me his parents had moved.

Invitation accepted.

 

About the Author

C.C Everill was born in New England.  He earned a BA in Music and Theatre in the 1970’s.  Before moving to NYC, he kept a diary which was the foundation for “Dancing Before the Crash.”  He is now a retired piano teacher and resides in North America with his husband of 36 years and their three cats.

 

Author Links

Twitter   |  Instagram

 

Giveaway 

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$20.00 Amazon gift card

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Nautilus Than Perfect by K.L. Hiers #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Nautilus Than Perfect (Sucker for Love Mysteries, Book 4)

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Tiferet Design

Release Date: October 26, 2021

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Tropes: False Start, Unrequited Love (Or Is It?), Pining For Your Partner, Office Romance

Themes: Love Conquers All

Heat Rating: 5 flames  

Length:  60 000 words / 200 pages

It is a standalone story, but the author recommends reading the previous books.

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK 

 

 

Blurb

Detective Elwood Q. Chase has ninety-nine problems, and the unexpected revelation that his partner is a god is only one of them.

Chase has been in love with Benjamin Merrick for years and has resigned himself to a life of unrequited pining. But when they run afoul of a strange cult, Merrick’s secret identity as Gordoth the Untouched slips out… and so do Chase’s feelings. The timing can’t be helped, but now Merrick thinks Chase only cares about him because he’s a god.

Even more unfortunately, it turns out the cultists want to perform a ritual to end the world. Chase’s mission to convince Merrick his feelings predate any divine revelations takes a back seat to a case tangled with murder and lies, but Chase doesn’t give up. Once he finds out there’s a chance Merrick feels the same way, he digs in his heels. Suddenly he’s trying to court a god and save the world at the same time. What could possibly go wrong?

 

 

Excerpt 

“So,” Chase said, tiptoeing to the broken window and glancing outside, “is it true you guys had tentacle orgies? Was that really a thing?”

“You have discovered I am an ancient immortal, and that is the first thing you ask me?” Merrick actually laughed.

“Well, yeah.” Chase grinned. “Priorities.”

“There were many fertility celebrations,” Merrick replied. He sounded bashful. “It was common for worshippers to offer their bodies to us. Due to the nature of our anatomy, ahem, we can copulate with more than one mortal at a time.”

“So, orgies.”

“Of a religious nature.”

“By anatomy, do you mean what I think you mean?” Chase had quite the imagination, but he was dying to hear details.

“Most of the gods have multiple appendages for mating.” Merrick ducked his head. “Though we do not actually need a partner for reproduction.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Chase teased.

Merrick laughed, smiling again. “My father, Baub, personally spawned thirteen of us in all.”

“So you’ve got twelve siblings?”

“More still if you count my half brothers and sisters.” Merrick cocked his head. “You really do not know anything about the gods, do you.”

“No, not really,” Chase admitted. “I know some of the names, I know a few holidays, and uh, that’s about it. Definitely wanna hear more about the copulating.”

“Now you are being obscene.”

“What?” Chase grinned slyly. “I’m a heathen. I don’t know any better. Educate me.”

“No.” Merrick’s tone was firm, but he was smiling.

“Got it, you’re not an easy god. I respect that.” Chase winked. “Need to buy you dinner before you show me the tentacled goods.”

“Detective Chase!” Merrick’s eyes widened. “Are you… are you flirting with me?”

“Damn, you are a good detective.”

“That is not acceptable behavior,” Merrick scolded. “Is this because now you know I am a god, you expect me to be promiscuous?”

“What?” Chase huffed. “Come on.”

“I told you that I did not want this to affect our working relationship,” Merrick grumbled. “I expected better from you.”

“I’m joking, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, it is not funny,” Merrick continued to complain. “The nature of my intimate parts is not up for discussion.”

“For the record, I wanted to know all about your intimate parts before I found out you were a god,” Chase said honestly.

Merrick didn’t immediately respond, and he looked confused. “Are you referring to the clothing-optional invitation?”

“The one we’ve never, ever talked about?” Chase leaned against one of the desks. He didn’t see any point in hiding his feelings now. “Yeah, that one.”

“I am not here to partake in physical pleasures, no matter how tempting you may be.”

“Wait, tempting?” Chase couldn’t have heard him correctly. “You think I’m tempting?”

“Obviously,” Merrick huffed. “It is why I had to refuse your advances that night. I cannot allow myself to become distracted by your sensual sorcery.”

“Sensual what now?” Chase questioned if he was awake right now and almost pinched himself to check.

“It does not matter,” Merrick hissed impatiently. “You are my partner, and it would be detrimental to Merrick’s future in law enforcement to become sexually involved with a coworker.”

“Okay, the speaking in third person is weird—”

“Do not bring this up again,” Merrick snapped. “For my sake and Merrick’s, I must insist you stop right now. I cannot risk damaging his legacy over physical pleasures. I do not know how else I can refuse you and make you understand.”

“Listen to me,” Chase pleaded, a flicker of hope rekindling inside of him and spurring him on. “I never thought in a million years that you’d ever be into me! I didn’t have a clue! I don’t just want physical pleasures, okay? I’m sure that’s all super great with your tentacles and appendages or whatever, but I’m—”

“Detective Chase, please,” Merrick said firmly, holding up his hands for silence. He shook his head, his face contorting in pain. “Please stop.”

The words were right on the tip of Chase’s tongue.

But I’m in love with you, you big, beautiful idiot!

He couldn’t bring himself to say it, seeing how upset Merrick already was, and he fell silent. His mind was still reeling from learning that Merrick had found him attractive all of this time—What the hell was sensual sorcery anyway?—and he planned to ride that stroke to his ego and hold on to it for as long as he could.

It wasn’t a confession of undying affection, but it was much more than he ever thought he would have.

 

About the Author 

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, she worked in the death industry for nearly a decade. Her first love was always telling stories, and she has been writing for over twenty years, penning her very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but she never gave up.

Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |  Instagram  

Newsletter Sign-up  |  Patreon 

 

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EXHALE (London Love 1.5) by Sophia Soames @sophiasoames #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: EXHALE (London Love 1.5)

Author: Sophia Soames

Publisher: Self Published

Cover Artist: Christina Stern

Release Date: October 25, 2021

Genre:  Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes:  Instalove, First Date 

Themes:  Fairytale sweetness

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 29 000 words

It is a standalone story, but best enjoyed if you have read Breathe first.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links for EXHALE – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

A sweet tale of figuring out that the future isn’t always straight.

Blurb

What do you do when your relationship falls apart? Well, you bury yourself in a deep hole of grief, one you have so carelessly dug for yourself. Jamie Walters needs to find a way out of the mess his life has become, but the way forward is not as straight as he thought it would have been. What’s the point anyway? Women are off the menu but Jamie still wants the entire textbook fairy-tale. The romantic dates and the flowers and holding hands in the dark, and Grindr certainly isn’t the place to find your happily ever after..

Catch up with Jamie and the rest of the Walters family in this sweet little insta-love fairy-tale where Jamie finally gets his happily ever after, Originally published as part of the Love is All Anthology, Exhale has been reedited and extended to the quirky little fairy-tale it was always meant to be.

Exhale is a standalone novella but is best enjoyed after reading Breathe.

Trigger warnings: Brief mention of pregnancy loss.

 

 

BREATHE – 99c Promo Offer

Also Available in Kindle Unlimited 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Pre-Order Links for TASTE

Releasing on November 1, 2021

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

 

Excerpt from EXHALE

“No, no, I’m not a virgin.” I dug my hands into my pockets. “I mean, I’ve hooked up with people before. I’ve had sex. It’s just, it never leads anywhere…”

And I was off again, jabbering so fast the cigarette flew from my lips and almost rolled off the platform. I didn’t know where to look as my mouth kept blurting more nonsense. I couldn’t look at him. Fuck. Talk about embarrassing. How did people do this? How did they get over themselves? I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

“…either they never call again, or they leave before we even get our clothes off. I’m just…hopeless at everything, apparently.” I rounded up my little Ted Talk, picked up the cigarette, then stood there not knowing what to do with it. I didn’t want to put the damn thing back in my mouth. There was no bin. Fuck my life.

Why the hell had I told him all that? Really, Leo?

Leo, Leo mon enfant terrible. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head, scolding me for my stupidity, although she’d probably have been laughing too much to tell me off. She’d moved back to France a few years ago, taken a lover, and then another. She was the queen of hook-ups. I had no idea where she met these men, but they were a new constant in her life—something she didn’t have when I was growing up. It had been just her and me back then, and we’d lived well. Stable. I’d had a good childhood, I honestly couldn’t complain. But there had been no one in my mother’s life and she’d obviously been lonely. Now she wasn’t. She was happily shagging around like a teenager, and secretly, I loved that she did. I loved that she was having fun. At least one of us was.

“Why am I intimidating?” he asked, shuffling his feet. “I don’t mean to be. We don’t have to do anything. We can just go for a coffee if you want?”

“I don’t like coffee,” I muttered like a petulant child. “Look, I’m French, and obviously wired wrong because I’m both lactose and gluten intolerant and I don’t like coffee. So, all that bread and cheese shit is out—”

“You don’t sound French.”

“Grew up here, didn’t I?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. That’s why I have a crap name. Leo Jacques Leblond.”

“I think your name’s great.”

“Try spelling it every time you give it to someone on the phone. It’s annoying.”

“Hmm.” He was staring at me again, like he had the world at his booted feet. Doc Martens, for fuck’s sake. All polished up and fully visible below his too-short, chequered trousers. He had some ripped, multicoloured rock band T-shirt showing underneath a knitted cardigan, the look completed by a super-cool, vintage long coat. Like some emo. Or not. He wasn’t wearing black but a mixture of beiges and reds. And a bright-blue rucksack. Nothing matched, yet… Yeah. Vogue called. They want their cover model back. The pretty one with the weird clothes.

He was talking again, and I’d totally zoned out.

“…and I said to myself, life is too short. So, I want to do this if you’re still up for it. But maybe do it right, kind of just hang out and get to know each other.”

“I want to have sex,” I stated. Why couldn’t I ever control my mouth?

“I’m totally up for that.” He grinned from under his curls. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it? But we’ve been standing here talking for a bit, and it’s nice, and you’re nice, and I’m sure Costa Coffee over there do gluten-free biscuits, and I’ll buy you a bottle of water or whatever your poison is. I just need to sit down and get my head in gear because this is kind of freaky. I’ve never done anything like this before. To be honest, I’m a little weirded out, and now here I am—”

“On some dodgy council estate, meeting up with a dude who’s probably a drug dealer and will have you beaten up in a minute.”

“I hope not!” He laughed, and the world became a little brighter. “Are you a drug dealer?”

“No,” I giggled back. “I promise you. I’m a dull uni student, and I live in a tiny student flat. I haven’t got much to show for myself, but perhaps one day, I’ll have a nice job and a better place to live. That’s my plan. I want to teach French. Or perhaps move to Paris for a while, find my roots.”

“Don’t move to Paris. I’ll never see you again.”

I couldn’t tell if he was serious, so I joked, “You might not want to once you’ve seen me naked.”

He blushed, and it was the cutest thing ever.

“You’re desperate for this coffee thing, huh?”

“Just to clear my head,” he said again. He sounded a little defeated, but I was grateful for a plan that didn’t involve taking him home. I wasn’t sure I could deal with that right now, however much I liked the idea of seeing him naked.

“Come on. Let’s go get you a large coffee—”

“I prefer espresso.”

“You sound like one of those posh kids,” I teased. I couldn’t help myself.

“Maybe once upon a time, I was posh. Not anymore. I still live at home with my siblings in a rundown council terrace in Thorpeton Green, and not the posh part. Like, backstreet-dump Thorpeton, near the industrial estate under the M4.”

“Working-class posh,” I blabbed on. “You look posh, you talk posh, and you look like you just stepped out of a fashion shoot.”

I regretted it even before I finished speaking because now he really looked freaked out, my beautiful, gorgeous man. I wondered how people survived having a partner who looked like him. I mean, he would be with someone amazing one day. Probably some big, rich, muscle bear of a man who would love him and spoil him, while I would be stuck alone in my dingy flat, dreaming of him. I was already jealous of the imaginary rich boyfriend, the one he would love forever.

“You’re deranged,” he said, smirking at me. I sighed, fiddling with my fingers. I’d heard that one before. Then he reached out and grabbed my sleeve. Tugged at me. Smiled as he led me down the steps towards the road. I followed him, thinking at that moment, I would have followed him anywhere. Blindly, desperately and, I think, a little bit in love.

 

About the Author 

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Find me on social media @sophiasoames on all platforms

Christina Stern is a Russian based artist. Quick sketches and portraits drawn in pencil are what she likes to do the most. Her work can be found on @christinastern on Instagram

Aurelia Morris is a cover artist, photographer, Photoshop wiz and eternal fangirl. She works in many mediums under more aliases that she can keep track of.

 

Social Media Links

Facebook Group: Sophia Soames’ Little Harbour  |  Twitter  |  Instagram 

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The Yakuza Path: Flowers of Flesh and Blood by Amy Tasukada

BOOK BLAST

Book Title:  The Yakuza Path 5: Flowers of Flesh and Blood

Author: Amy Tasukada

Publisher: ‎ Macarons & Tea Publishing

Release Date: May 28, 2020

Genre: gay thriller, NOT ROMANCE

Tropes: Bad boys, tragic hero, unrequited love

Themes: Mafia, betrayal 

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 299 pages

It can be read as a standalone but you get more if it is read as part of the series.

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

 

Buy Links 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Kobo

Apple Books  |  B&N  | Google Play  |  Books2Read

 

A killer. A traitor. A deadly war that could take their love and their lives…

 

Blurb 

Ruling the Kyoto yakuza makes Nao Murata a perpetual target, especially with the Koreans encroaching into their territory. An attempt on his life at his mafia headquarters crosses a line. Setting up his beloved ally Aki as the would-be assassin crosses another. Nao knows the only way to save his friend’s life is to sever their growing bond and force Aki to fake his own death…

But Aki Hisona refuses to stay dead. Determined to expose Nao’s would-be killer and save the man he loves, Aki goes deep undercover in the Korean underworld. But when he’s asked to prove his loyalty, he risks becoming caught in a web of his own lies…

With Aki gone and the Kyoto mafia in grave danger, Nao fears his trust in others could be fatal.

Will Nao and Aki find the traitor in time, or will Nao’s rule end in bloody chaos?

The Yakuza Path: Flowers of Flesh and Blood is the powerful fifth installment of The Yakuza Path thriller series. If you like gritty Japanese crime, richly-nuanced characters, and slow-burning gay romance, then you’ll love Amy Tasukada’s high-octane novel.

Buy Flowers of Flesh and Blood to slice into the Japanese underworld today!

 

 

The Yakuza Path Series

BOOK 1 – Blood Stained Tea

BOOK 2 – Better Than Suicide

BOOK 3 – One Thousand Cranes

BOOK 4 – The Deafening Silence

BOOK 5 – Flowers of Flesh and Blood

BOOK 6 – Wrapped in Screams

Releasing in November

Pre-Order here

 

 

 

Excerpt 

Aki closed his fingers around the paper brim of his empty coffee cup and ripped another small piece off. Without looking, he added it to the pile on the table. Mindlessly stuck on repeat, he ripped, added, ripped, added, over and over.

He’d spent the night in the twenty-four-hour Korean café, trading off between sleeping in the bathroom and eating cake to justify staying. He’d been hoping to improve his Korean, but the speakers played nothing but pop songs. Aki learned a million new ways to tell Nao how he felt but doubted he’d gained the right words to impress Namjoon.

Another rip.

Another one on the pile.

Another turn of the mangled cup… Another rip. 

His ribs tightened in his chest, crushing his heart until it screamed. He didn’t deserve to be by Nao’s side.

Another turn.

Another rip.

Another sugarcoated song about love.

Aki’s thumb hit the bottom of the cup. Nothing more to tear up but himself.

He stood, bones aching from napping on the bathroom floor. He needed a bed, and the only way was with Namjoon’s help.

 

 

About the Author 

International best-selling author Amy Tasukada writes thrilling times of crime, love, and gore. Readers who crave diverse characters, unique settings, and edge-of-your-seat action will devour her Yakuza Path series. Readers who seek less blood and more love will swoon over the Yakuza Path Romance and Would it Be Okay to Love You? Series. Amy is an atheist, queer author who enjoys drinking tea, Japanese street fashion and visual kei music.  Her calico cat, O’Hara, is never far from her side. Amy lives in North Texas, but is always planning her next trip to Japan.

 

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |    Instagram   

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