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The Yakuza Path: Better Than Suicide by Amy Tasukada

BOOK BLAST

Book Title:  The Yakuza Path: Better Than Suicide

Author: Amy Tasukada

Publisher: ‎ Macarons & Tea Publishing

Release Date: May 15, 2017

Genre: Gay thriller, NOT A ROMANCE

Tropes: Bad boys, tragic hero

Theme: Mafia,  

Heat Rating:  1 flame    

Length: 353 pages

It is the second book in The Yakuza Path series. It can be read as a standalone but it’s better if you read it as part of the series. It does not end on a cliffhanger.

 Goodreads 

 

Buy Links 

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Kobo  |  Google Play  |  Apple Books

Barnes and Noble  |  Books 2 Read

 

A stash of drugs. A twisted cop. A mob on the verge of self-destruction…

 

Blurb 

Nao Murata is the new godfather of the Matsukawa syndicate. When Detective Yamada confronts Nao over a dead drug dealer, Nao knows his organization isn’t responsible. The Matsukawa doesn’t deal drugs… or does it?

When Nao discovers drugs in a locker owned by his syndicate, he no longer knows who to trust. With the police bearing down on the Matsukawa, Nao must make unlikely allies to find out the truth. Can he discover who is betraying him before time runs out, or will everyone suffer for a crime he didn’t commit?

Better Than Suicide is the second book in a Japanese mafia thriller series. If you like complex plots, gripping suspense, and a splash of romance, then you’ll love the next installment in Amy Tasukada’s Yakuza Path series.

 Buy Better Than Suicide to start the race against the clock 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 – Releasing in November

 

 

Excerpt 

 If Nao’s father had kept the drug key in his office desk, what horrors would Nao find once he stepped foot into his father’s home? Nao would rather keep them buried for as long as possible.

Kurosawa knotted the gauze wraps with a tight jerk of his wrist. “The least you could do is not fuck a new recruit at headquarters. It makes it uncomfortable for everyone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Last night with Hisona.”

“Hisona?” Nao blinked.

“You don’t even know his name? The whole house could hear you screw him all night.”

Hisona was much too forceful of a name and didn’t match Aki’s personality at all. So of course he’d forget it.  Apparently Aki could act enough to keep the whole household convinced. With only four days left before jail time, Nao was bound to need Aki’s acting skills again.

Nao grinned. “Aki really knew how to take it. Those recruits are so eager to please.”

“If you want to fuck one, take them to a hotel.”

Nao tried not to laugh at Kurosawa’s reddening face. If it was out of embarrassment or anger, Nao didn’t know, but either way he enjoyed it.

“Taking the time to go to a hotel would’ve killed the mood.” Nao trailed a hand down his own neck to his collarbone. “Have you ever been with a man, Kurosawa? They know exactly what to do during a blowjob.”

Kurosawa puffed out his cheeks. “Couldn’t you go back to the brothel?”

“I thought you’d enjoy me staying in for once. Besides, you’re not in a position to talk to me this way.”

Kurosawa gritted his teeth. “What I’m doing is for the good of the Matsukawa as a whole.”

“You should respect me more as the godfather of this syndicate.”

“Someone has to tell you what everyone is thinking.”  

“Good thing they’re not speaking it because I’d punch them in the face. With you, I’m satisfied seeing you get demoted to cutting up dead bodies and burning the Matsukawa furnace once you’re replaced.”

“I’ll be more than happy to do any task that benefits the family.”

Nao laughed and grabbed his phone. He frowned; there were still no new messages from Kohta, which didn’t put him any closer to finding the dealer.

“Fujimoto called last night about a disturbance in his ward.” Nao grinned. “I was in the middle of getting a blowjob, so I told him to handle it. I want to make sure Fujimoto wasn’t an idiot.” 

 

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.

 

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Book Blast – The Dead Don’t Lie by Anne Russo #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Dead Don’t Lie

Author: Anne Russo

Publisher: JMS Books 

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs 

Release Date: 3/13/21

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, Suspense, Thriller, Action-Adventure

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Love, Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Found Families

Themes: Death & Dying, Betrayal, Love & Sacrifice, Family, Guilt & Loss 

Heat Rating: 4 flames  

Length: 75 000 words/250 pages

This is the first book in a series and features an unresolved ending/cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |   Apple

Barnes & Noble  |  Bookstrand  |  Google Play

Kobo  |  Scribd  |  Smashwords

 

 

Blurb

While young doctor Adam Morrow resigns himself to an uninformed existence, world-weary assassin Ian Abbott struggles with a life he never asked for. When the two strangers meet by chance, the attraction is immediate. And deadly, as Adam walks in on Ian in the middle of a hit.

The situation spirals out of control once Ian discovers he and Adam share a connection far more profound than either imagined. Shocked by the discovery, Ian makes the hasty decision to kidnap him.

Overnight Adam is torn from his promising career and a family who believes him dead. Things go from bad to worse when he finds himself reunited with a mother he never knew who is now head of a covert and shadowy group of killers for hire. Forced into joining their ranks, with Ian as his reluctant trainer and handler, Adam is given a series of impossible tasks to complete.

To survive, he must fight with everything he has to keep his life, his sanity, and his very soul from being swept up in a violent and chaotic world even as he battles his unwanted and complicated feelings for Ian.

For his part, Ian, a man with dark secrets of his own, has a past he isn’t ready to share with Adam even as the other man worms into his life in more ways than one. The two grow closer and lines blur — between good and evil, friend or foe, enemy or lover. But something, or someone, plots against them, determined to do everything in their power to keep them apart. Even if it means destroying them both.

Trigger Warning: This story contains a brief scene of sexual assault and features an unresolved ending/cliffhanger.  

 

Excerpt 

Assignment completed, Ian glanced down at his coat, noticing a few questionable stains even black couldn’t hide. Sighing, he stepped into the adjacent bathroom for a quick wash. He was cleaning off the excess blood splatter when he heard the door open. He stopped and listened as a curious voice called out, “Hello?”

Ian reached for his handgun, quiet as he slid it into his hand. He edged forward, waiting for his visitor to discover Mr. Mallory was no longer among the living. Ian didn’t have long to wait.

“Jesus Christ,” the visitor swore, taking several steps backward where Ian waited in the shadows. Once he was close enough, Ian pressed the gun’s muzzle into the back of his head, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Even in the darkened room, Ian knew he looked familiar. “Turn around.”

Slowly, the man turned toward him, shaking. Ian didn’t miss the shock of recognition when he saw who held him at gunpoint.

“Yeah, I remember you too. This is unfortunate,” Ian remarked and meant it. He didn’t relish putting a bullet right between those pretty eyes, but he’d seen his face. Not once. But twice now. And, unfortunately, he’d have to die for it.

“Wait,” the young doctor urged, his hands in the air. “You don’t have to shoot me.”

No crying. No begging. A statement. The doctor even met Ian’s eye when he said it. Ian couldn’t help but admire this guy’s guts. A shame he had to kill him, but he didn’t have a choice. His finger twitched on the trigger.

“I’m afraid I do,” Ian answered, glancing at his name tag. “Dr. Adam Morrow,” he whispered under his breath, the name hitting like a sucker punch to the gut. “Your name is Adam Morrow?”

“Yeah, that’s my — why?”

Ian wasn’t listening, rendered speechless as he studied the man. Pieces were clicking together in a hail of memories, memories he fought for years to keep hidden. Now they came rising to the surface one by one, swifter than he could recall them. All tied to the image of a child’s face. A child whose cheerful grin and name, Adam Morrow, had haunted him for the last fourteen years.

Ian snapped into the present. He charged forth, seizing him by the arm. Adam tried to shake him off as he propelled him toward the windows. Meager light from outside street lamps was enough to spy the lingering traces of that boy. One whose existence itself had been a terrible mystery he’d never wanted to delve too deep into, terrified of the answer awaiting him on the other side.

“Look at me!” he ordered, pressing the muzzle under Adam’s chin.

Adam hesitated but didn’t have much say so with a gun buried in his throat. One glance and the truth slammed into Ian like a bolt of lightning. A sweeping recognition. His eyes told him the entire story in an instant. They were remarkable, dark green, and flecked with gold, memorable —her eyes. There was no way he’d be able to kill him. Not now. The implications of his discovery growing as they sized up the other, each of them unsure what to do next.

“Who the hell are you?” Adam asked, low and shaky.

“Who the hell are you?” Ian countered.

 

About the Author

Anne makes her home in Connecticut with her wonderful and ever-so-patient partner. A lifelong reader, writer, and curious student, Anne hopes to create exciting multi-dimensional characters and worlds but with a queer sensibility. The Dead Don’t Lie is the first book in the Dead Generations series and her first novel. 

 

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Book Blast – Strapped For Cash by K.L. Hiers #kindleunlimited #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Strapped For Cash

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Stormy Night Publications

Cover Artist: Korey Mae Johnson

Genres: Contemporary BDSM MM Mafia Romance

Tropes: Co-workers to Lovers, Sex Before Love, Master and Slave, D/S

Themes: Betrayal and Revenge, Never Know Who Your Real Friends Are

Heat Rating:  5 flames  

Length: 107 000 words/414 pages

It is a standalone book, but the author recommends the others since this is a prequel

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited 

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Blurb 

After the Luchesi mafia family betrays him, assassin Mickey Tamerlane joins with gangster Boss Cold to seek revenge. But as they maneuver to take out their enemies and claim control over the city’s underworld, Mickey finds himself distracted by the newest member of Cold’s crew.

Cocky and handsome, Roger Lorre pushes Mickey’s buttons until Mickey pushes back hard.

Hard enough to hurt.

But no matter how well-used and sore he leaves Roger, once isn’t going to be enough for either of them.

Not even close.

Publisher’s Note: Strapped for Cash is a prequel to Cold Hard Cash and Hard Earned Cash. It includes spankings and rough, intense sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

 

Excerpt 

 “Don Luchesi is dead.” 

 “How?” Mickey blurted out. 

 “Murdered in his very own home,” Cold replied. “I have been waiting years for the old man to kill himself with a heart attack, but someone else decided to speed his demise along. Though I am grateful, this means that certain plans are going to be put into action much sooner than I expected.” 

 “The city,” Crybaby said, her eyes wide. “We’re takin’ it. We’re gonna do it.”

 “Yes,” Cold confirmed. “With your help, my dear Gentlemen, the city is finally going to be ours.”

 “Fuck yeah,” Jules cheered. 

 “Who killed the Don?” Duncan asked quietly. 

 “I do not know.” Cold seemed a little annoyed at that fact. “But that will actually end up working to our advantage.” 

 “How?”

 “Because if I don’t know, it means the Luchesis don’t know.” Cold leaned forward, his usually calm face lit up with excitement. “The most likely suspects are his three sons, Cristian, Luigi, and Matteo. The Don had yet to name an heir, and there will most certainly be a struggle for power.” 

 “The ring,” Mickey recalled. “He didn’t pass on that stupid ring.” 

 “Precisely,” Cold said. “Matteo was favored to take his father’s place, but his brothers are hungry for it, too. This also works to our advantage.” 

 “What do we do?” Crybaby asked eagerly. “Kill ‘em?”

 “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but no,” Cold drawled. “They’re about to do their own killing, and we’re going to help them right along.” He looked to Mickey. “Do you remember when you were so kind as to discover Tony Luchesi’s nasty theft?”

 “Yeah,” Mickey replied. “What about it?”

 “Well, it turns out he was stealing that money to help fund Cristian’s future claim to the throne.” Cold pursed his lips. “Such a shame.” 

 “The bar… it was Luigi’s, wasn’t it?”

 “Yes,” Cold confirmed. “Piece by piece, we’re going to turn the three brothers against one another. The family will split apart. Everyone will try to pick a side, and the three darling siblings will each be attempting to make the best case for themselves while valiantly trying to murder the others.” 

 “Chaos,” Alistair said with a knowing nod. “It’s going to be total and complete chaos.” 

 “You knew this was going to happen,” Mickey accused. “You knew the Don hadn’t picked an heir and was going to die without one.” 

 “I knew he was arrogant enough to think he wasn’t going to die anytime soon and foolish enough not to listen to his doctors,” Cold said. “The chances of him dying prematurely without settling his affairs was very likely. I had planned to use his death to propel our takeover of the city. I did not expect, however, for him to be murdered.” 

 “I call that a fuckin’ bonus.” Jules laughed. “Them stupid ass brothers are gonna be at each other’s fuckin’ throats thinkin’ one of them killed Daddy.”

 “So.” Jerry perked up. “What is our first move, Monsieur Cold? What would you have us do?”

 “Everything we need is right here under this roof,” Cold replied, offering a coy smile. 

 “You know we’re in a gay bar, right?” Duncan asked in a loud whisper. 

 “Yes.” Cold looked irritated. “There is a young man who works here at night as a dancer. He goes by the name ‘Galavant.’ He also washes dishes over at Ragazzi’s.”

 “How is a dishwasher gonna help?” 

 “That restaurant is the Luchesi’s big honey pot,” Jules replied, eyeing Duncan until he cowered. “Galavant is our fuckin’ way in. Payroll for all the drugs, brothels, and illegal type businesses gets banked there.” 

 “How much?” Mickey asked.

 “Millions,” Cold replied, looking very pleased with himself. “The Luchesis are arrogant enough to believe no one would dare steal from them. That arrogance is going to be their undoing. First, we take their money. Next, we’re going to take their drugs. The bouncer here, Reggie? His mother is a maid at one of the hotels the Luchesis run as a brothel. They use the basement there to prepare their product before distribution.”

 “So, we’re gonna take their drugs?” Pym perked up. 

 “No.”

 Pym pouted and sank back down in his chair. 

 “We’re going to tip off the police to the location and allow them to have the glory of the biggest drug bust this city has ever seen. It’s a little gift to our friend Officer Carville for his very timely payments. He’ll look so fetching on the front page. Might even be chief one day. We’re also going to make sure the police’s anonymous source is identified as a member of the Luchesi family.” 

 “We take out the money, the drugs, okay, but what about the judges? All the politicians?” Crybaby frowned. “We don’t own any of them. We barely own any cops.” 

 “Never fear,” Cold soothed. “Once the blood starts filling the streets, they’ll come to us. They won’t have a choice. We’re going to be their safe harbor from the storm, you see. They won’t care who’s in charge as long as peace is established. And if not… well.” He smirked slyly. “I have other ways.”

 “Okay.” Mickey grinned. “So, when do we start?”

 “Soon. You, Jules, and our newest member will be going.” Cold waved to Alistair. 

 Alistair left his perch on the desk to open the door, gesturing for someone to come in. 

 Mickey turned to see who it was, and he couldn’t hide his shock. 

 That son of a bitch…

 It was the crazy guy from the gas station. 

 “This is Roger Lorre,” Cold said. “He is a talented little thief and an expert safecracker. He will be accompanying you to Ragazzi’s. Say hello, Mr. Lorre.”

 “Hello, boys,” Roger said, his eyes immediately focusing on Mickey. “Well, hi there. Long time, no see.”

 Mickey gritted his teeth.

 Cold glanced between them. “Am I to assume you’ve already met Mickey Tamerlane then?”

 “Mickey, huh?” Roger grinned crookedly at him, whistling low. “Mm, and aren’t you just so fine.”

 

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.

 

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Book Blast – Young King Arthur and the Round Table Knights

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Young King Arthur and the Round Table Knights

Author: Siryn Sueng

Publisher: Deep Hearts YA

Release Date: September 18, 2020

Genre/s: Fantasy, M/M YA Romance

Trope/s: First Love, Arthurian Legend

Themes: Coming of Age, Knights 

Heat Rating:  2 flames      

Length:  68 322 words/ 270 pages

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

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Smashwords  |  Apple Books  |  B&N  |  Kobo

 

Arthur grew up a peasant, but when he was fourteen, Excalibur chose him, and now as King Arthur, he must learn to play the game of royalty quickly … or suffer the consequences.

 

Blurb

There was no reason for Arthur to think he would ever become king.

A peasant and son of a baker, Arthur grew up in the castle town of Camelot. When he attended the choosing ceremony, it was merely to see who would draw the Holy Sword, Excalibur – to see who would inherit the throne of the recently departed King Uther. He never expected the sword would choose him…

But it did.

Now, at the young age of fourteen, he has become King Arthur, and for all the power he has gained, he has made just as many enemies. Surrounded by the Knights of the Round Table, and led by the mysterious mage, Merlin, Arthur is grateful for his allies, though he would just as soon return to his old life. Surely, someone more worthy should be chosen as king.

Arthur is in the middle of chaos, a world where everyone wants more than they let on, where many hate the idea of a young boy with no noble background being crowned king; where cold stares and whispered words are just as sharp as an assassin’s blade.

As Arthur fends for his life, he must draw on the strength of his knights, especially fifteen-year-old Mordred, who becomes closer to him than the mere bounds of duty. He must become king, not just in name, but in his heart.

And he must do it quickly, because his enemies want more than just his crown…

 

Excerpt

Two days had passed since I’d pulled the sword free—since becoming King. On the first full day within the castle, Merlin had found me wandering the halls and dragged me back to my room to be fitted for an outrageous amount of clothing. We discussed Illian.

Merlin assured me that he was being treated well within the dungeons, despite his cold attitude that he gave to everyone. Nothing would be done to him without my consultation. That fact only added more weight.

He also brought up his conversation with my mother and the letter I should expect. The day after, I received it. She’d expressed her worries, but also her love and support. She praised me, and though I knew it was meant as encouragement, it only made me more wary and frightened. My station as King was not something to take so lightly—even if she had all the confidence in the world. I tried to reply, but nothing I wrote seemed fitting. Rather, it all seemed more like complaints and childish pleading. It wasn’t something I wanted to send to her, not after having her praise me.

Within the mirror, the striking blue doublet that covered me looked even more out of place as I thought about my mother’s letter. The kingly raiment I now wore wasn’t the only one. I had a rich dark purple one, a red one, a light blue, and a solid black. And to think, those were just for me to wear when I wasn’t in the throne room! All the different clothes were going to make my head explode.

“Yes, he did a wonderful job,” Elias said. “Perfect fit. Of course, he is the best tailor in the lands. Only the best for our King.” He stepped back from me and bowed.

“I don’t need the best,” I said softly, but Elias caught it.

“I suppose it’s good to know that you haven’t drowned in the riches, but at the same time you do need to look the part at least.”

I turned to look out the window. The sea burst against the cliff side, throwing water in a violent display of white foam. I watched the waves for a moment longer, knowing that I needed to get going. I was stalling because I was nervous about meeting the knights. What were they going to think of me? I was young, and a peasant. No royal blood flowed through my veins.

I chewed on my lower lip. Elias touched my arm. I looked over at him. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I nodded and followed him out of the room and into the large corridor.

We left the castle and crossed from the tree-lined grounds into the gardens. The smells of the flowers permeated my senses. I took a deep breath. The scents calmed some of my nerves.

Ahead of us on the other side of the castle grounds stood the Knights’ Tower, where they all resided. The tower was imposing, dark in color, and vines crawled up the sides of the rocks. Windows lined the entire building, spiraling up to the top. Elias led me to the tower’s set of wooden doors and bowed to me.

“This is as far as I can go, Your Majesty.”

My heart clenched and ice shot through my chest. I was going to be alone with the knights. Terror flooded me and I began to tremble. Elias touched my arm again. I focused on him. He smiled and the gentle look helped me relax.

“You will be just fine, my lord. They might be rough around the edges, but they’re loyal and actually very nice.”

“Okay. I’ll be just fine. Thank you, Elias. I’ll see you later.”

He bowed and left me standing in front of the doors. I contemplated leaving and hiding in the library. I turned and took a step forward—right into a warm body. With a startled gasp, I stumbled back and bowed forward as I squeaked, “Forgive me! I didn’t see you there! I’m sorry I ran into you!”

The one who I had run into snickered and I recognized that tone well. I looked up to see Merlin smirking at me. My heart fell like it had become a lump of lead. I stared at him as he laughed at me. I could feel a hot blush creeping across my face.

“My, my. You’re a King now, my lord. You don’t bow to anyone. So, what is it that has you cowering before the Knights’ Tower? Are you intimidated by them?” Merlin seemed a little more welcoming, but I still didn’t like the look on his face. It seemed like he was scrutinizing me beneath his outward demeanor.

I turned back to the double doors and swallowed dryly. “They won’t approve of me.”

“Not everyone will. But that’s what it means to be king. No one is loved on their first day on the throne. Everyone questions the new crown; that is simply how it is. It takes time to earn trust and loyalty. You will earn it. But…if you do nothing, then you will have nothing.”

His words shook me. The mage was right. I understood then why he was the advisor to the King of Camelot. He knew what he was talking about. Despite being condescending at times, he was truly helpful.

“I can’t avoid everything, and why should I? Thank you, Merlin.”

He bowed to me. “Of course, Your Majesty. It’s what I’m here for. So, shall we?”

“Yes.”

I turned around and pulled the door open.

 

About the Author 

Siryn Sueng is a writer of fantasy, paranormal, and even Sci-Fi genres. She’s married to a wonderful husband with a minion of two years. They have a full house with three adorable fur babies, Anubis -the mighty cat hunter- Kida -the momma bear- and Mishka -the loveable husky-.

Siryn is a lover of games on a wide range of platforms. She plays on the PC, console, and hand-held devices including the phone. Japan is where she would love to visit sometime and is a huge inspiration to many of her projects. She’s a huge fan of Japan, including manga and anime. Siryn has even begun to dabble in comic/manga script writing. Future works in this will be posted on WebToon.

 

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Book Blast – Tik Tok No by Lucy Ravens #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Tik Tok No

Author: Lucy Ravens

Cover Artist: Chandra Trulove Fry

Release Date: February 23, 2021

Genre/s:  Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: Friends to lovers

Heat Rating:  4 flames     

Length: 40 000 words/98 pages

It is a standalone story

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

 

Can I turn my best friend into more in front of thousands of followers?

 

Blurb

Will

Lucas Bentley has been in my life almost as long as I can remember. 

The boy next door. My sister’s short fling. My best friend.

And while we have been inseparable like brothers for years now, I have been loving him at a distance in my heart this whole time. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a tatted, skateboarding bad boy from my dreams.

Now that we’re adults, I want to be out of the friend zone, but after putting myself there for damn near 20 years, I’m not sure he will ever see me another way.

So, like the lovesick fool I am, I’m going to show him how I feel with an audience of thousands and hope I don’t crash and burn back into the friend zone.

If you love it when best friends become more, big romantic gestures, a new kind of bromance, and lots of sarcasm, scroll up to start the first book in the Friend Zone series! 

 

Excerpt 

The heartfelt words slip out of my mouth on their own. I only meant to think them. Saying them out loud isn’t at all what I want. It is foolish at best. I can only hope that I didn’t speak loud enough for Will to understand my words. 

Of course, I’m not that lucky. I know that because he is frozen in place with a deer in headlights look in his eyes. As the moments pass his expression changes a thousand times. He goes from shock to fear to confusion to sadness to desire, and then starts the cycle all over again. It’s difficult for me to watch. It’s my fault he’s so freaked out.

“What did you say?” he eventually chokes out through lips that don’t appear to move. 

“I think you heard me,” I boldly reply. I stand up tall to face him down with the truth for once.

“What does it mean?” he asks, intently gazing into my eyes as if searching my brain for answers.

“You know that, too,” I say with a crooked smile, not even trying to hide from his searching gaze.

The tension in the room gets thicker by the moment. We don’t speak. There’s just a staring contest and a battle against giving in to desire. The room is growing hot. One of us is bound to break. It’s inevitable.  

Will takes the first halting step in my direction, and the battle is lost. We collide like freight trains on the same track. Our chests bang together taking our breath away. Neither of us seems to care about whether we can breathe or not. There’s no reason to. We’ve got each other.

Our lips meet in a heated exchange. This is no ordinary kiss, nor is it soft and gentle. Instead it’s demanding, overwhelming, intense, and almost as physically draining as an MMA fight. Our mouths open wide to let the other gain entrance. Tongues battle for supremacy; twisting and turning inside the wetness of our cheeks. Will bites my bottom lip, and I taste the drop of blood that rises from the tiny wound. I gasp with intense joy as he sucks at the droplet, and he growls.

Will is leaning into me. His weight grows heavy against me. I can’t stand in place or hold myself steady. Suddenly, he’s pushing me backwards, and I slam into the wall. I hit it hard, but I like the power he’s using against me. It’s a turn-on. I’m filled with excitement and need. This is a whole new Will. I’ve never seen him like this. I revel in his strength and power.

He holds my arms in a tight grip. They are plastered to the wall. I can’t move, and I really don’t want to. I will let him do whatever he wishes to me. I need him to control me. At the moment, he’s ravaging my lips. I don’t fight back. I take everything he’s giving and savor it. I pray he never comes to his senses. I want more which scares me in a delightful way. 

 

About the Author

A Mommy, vampire fanatic, Harry Potter nerd, and hopeless romantic are just a few of the things to describe the enigmatic personality of one, Lucy Ravens. A long time author with two bestselling pen names, she has now expanded into the MM universe after she read some of her first MM rom coms and fell in love with how they can be romantic, sweet, and sexy all at once in a way contemporary romance for MF couples has somehow lost. She hopes to bring all her quirks over to this pen name to entertain readers and make them swoon!

 

Social Media Links

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Book Blast – Years of Silence by J.K. Jones

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Years of Silence

Author: J.K. Jones 

Publisher: Self-published 

Release Date: December 30, 2020

Genre/s:  Dark M/M Romance, Magical realism

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Themes: Russian Mafia, floral horror, body horror romance, interracial romance, cultural diaspora 

Heat Rating:  4 flames 

Length:  91 872 words

It is a standalone book. 

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links 

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

 

Three friends. Two lies. One truth.

 

Blurb 

Three friends. Two lies. One truth.

Silence can be deafening. Billionaire Tycoon Zander Wright is no stranger to loneliness.

However, what happens when his friend-turned-enemy comes back?  

Knowing Vadim is like dancing the space between heaven and hell. The ocean is an inch between ecstasy and misery. Like all things long since forgotten, young love always remains the most crippling of pain.

Zander Wright is aware of this. He’s felt the fatal blow of being love-struck—bludgeoned violently over the head with the taste and feel of utopia in his arms and in his bed.

Vadim Oblonsky will always be the one thing he wants, but can never have.

Just like Petyr Yahontov will always be the one thing standing in his way. A dangerous man, with a sweet dimpled grin that has connections to the Russian mafia. Petyr wasn’t supposed to take it this far. Now, someone in his inner circle wants him dead. Zander didn’t start this. He didn’t want any part of it.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t finish it.

 

Warning from the author – Years of Silence is a dark MM Romance. This book will take you on a journey of self-discovery and disillusionment, a psychological thriller with so many twists and turns it will make your head spin. Enemies to lovers, floral horror, friends to lovers, hurt comfort, first time mm romance, gay betrayal romance, mental instability and so much more. Read an outstanding piece of literature of three friends and how one truth destroys all of them.

 

Excerpt 

From Chapter 1

Zander recalls these images not to relive them.

But to dance the space between heaven and hell. The ocean is an inch between ecstasy and misery. Like all things long since forgotten, young love always remains the most crippling of pain.

Zander Wright is aware of this.

He’s felt the fatal blow of being love-struck—bludgeoned violently over the head with the taste and feel of utopia in his arms and his bed.

The grotesque and sublime slam into him all at once, he tries to push through, he tries forcing it down, but still, it bubbles up. For once he doesn’t release it, he holds onto it, until it solidifies in his soul.

He knows he’ll never let go. Not now and not ever. Not even if it kills him.

And it surely will kill him, one of these days.

Zander raps his fingers on the table, impatiently going over the extensive legal jargon. The leather feels plush and comfortable as he leans back into his chair. The office is spacious and almost too large for one person alone, but Carlisle has insisted.

There’s a large bookshelf in the far corner, hefty enough to fill a library with nearly dozens upon, dozens of cases. Zander read them all.

Not by choice of course, but by necessity. He lives and breathes his work.

Case files lay stacked on his desk, untouched because of the sheer amount of work he still needs to get through.

“Is this all of it?”

The intern nearly jumps, his small lithe frame looking even smaller in his black slacks and white crisp dress shirt. He’s native American, with beautiful tan skin and dark piercing eyes, rimmed with glasses “Yes Mr. Wright.”

Zander looks back at the file, his eyes greedily taking in every single word. The whole case was fucked up. Even as he read more about the people involved, he felt his stomach coil in disgust. Sometimes he wonders why he became a defense attorney in the first place.

You know why.

“Sick fuck,” He mutters under his breath, before tossing the file on the table.

The case is straightforward: billionaire tycoon caught raping an underage girl and somehow thought throwing money at the problem would make it all go away. However, more women started coming out, accusing the defendant of being a rapist.

“A friend of my father’s you said?”

“Yes, Mr. Wright.”

Even after all the evidence proved that the man was guilty, he still had the fucking gull to plead “not guilty”. It was hard to argue against his DNA found in a rape test. Zander knew he had to take this case on, it was expected of him.

His face hardens.

“These are the police reports. I’ve sealed them to make sure nobody has access to them.” Zander says, placing them in a filing cabinet near his desk, and then Zander hands another file over to him. “Seth, take the case report back to Tanya and tell her that I want Mr. Dmitriev in my office Thursday morning at nine am sharp.”

“Yes, Mr. Wright,” Seth says, snatching the file away and nearly sprinting out of the room.

Zander takes a deep breath, loosening his silk fitted Armani jacket.

If this were a normal day, he would have yelled at Seth for not bringing these files in sooner. His father wanted this situation dealt with as quickly and discreetly as possible.

However, today was unlike any other day. His fingers twitch with anticipation as he wills himself to calm down.

Zander moves from his chair, eager to get the blood pumping and not to dwell on the reason why it feels like his heart wants to burst from his chest.

 

About the Author  

Heaven and hell, demons and angels. J.K Jones has always had an affinity for otherworldly things. From her debut novel, it’s easy to see she loves all things crawling in the shadows. As it so happens, J.K Jones is the author of a gritty, fun, action-packed, soul-rending novel. Her characters are so dark and twisted they defy the dimensions of this world. She does not believe in HEA, she does believe in writing a suitable ending for her characters. Never will you read any of her works where the characters ride off into the sunset together. Not going to happen. There is nothing J.K. Jones loves more than a tragic ending. She is an avid reader, poet, and LGBTQ activist. She is a University graduate with a BA in Sociology, also has a TESOL certificate for teaching English as a Second Language.

Author Links

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Book Blast – The Emancipation: Dion’s Baptism by Dijon M McIntyre #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Emancipation: Dion’s Baptism

Author: Dijon M McIntyre 

Publisher: FreedomArtz LLC

Cover Artist: Cameron Dudley 

Release Date: December 5, 2019

Genre: Contemporary Adult Fiction

Trope: Therapy

Themes: Love, Depression, Forgiveness, Coming out, Acceptance

Heat Rating: No heat

Length:  34 365 words/128 pages

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

 

A young gay man has a near death experience that forces him to go through therapy and recount the events of his abusive past that led to his excessive drinking and depression.

 

Blurb

The Emancipation: Dion’s Baptism is a fictional story about a young man who has a near death experience and ends up going to therapy, forcing him to dig up painful memories from his past and discover what is the real cause behind his depression and his excessive drinking. He not only finds the answers he’s looking for but also the strength to forgive all the people who have hurt him.

 

Excerpt 

“It’s something I don’t normally tell people about because I don’t want them blaming my sexuality on that. With me being gay, I feel that people in my life always look for an explanation as to why I’m gay or how I “became” gay. It’s not like it was one particular incident that made me like guys, I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. As a child I didn’t really know a name for it or a label to attach to it, I just knew I was always attracted to men. I don’t care too much about how anyone else feels about it, this is part of who I am.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what people in your life did you feel wanted an explanation from you about your sexuality?”

“Everyone, at least that’s the way it felt. Close friends, family members. They all wanted to know why I’m like this; they treated it like it was a disease. I remember people in my family asking me if I had been molested by someone in the family or saying that I turned out like this because I used to carry my grandmother’s purse to her car for her before she went to work. People tried to find every explanation for something that didn’t need one. It’s like I’m asking me why I’m black. Who cares as to why I’m this way, I just am.” Dion doesn’t look Cathy directly in her eyes when talking about him being gay and feeling rejection.

“Seems like you felt the pain of rejection a lot in your life.”

“More than you know, in some ways I think rejection is the very reason that I’m in this office talking to you in the first place.”

“What is your earliest memory of being rejected?”

“Ouch. I need to take another drink before I tell you this one.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Not sure if bad is necessarily the right term to use–more so painful.”

 

August 5th, 2001

“DJ, what are you doing?” Kesiah asks in a slightly critical tone.

“Singing duh, I love to sing.”

“You do?  Since when?” She rolls her eyes.

“Since always, I always sing in my plays at B.C. Cook.” Dion expresses with a child-like excitement

“Well you need to stop singing.”

“Why?” 

“Because you aren’t good at it. Momma used to always say that ‘if you ain’t gone sing a song right then don’t sing it at all.” Keisha walks away, leaving Dion’s eyes full of tears that he silently lets out. 

 

Present Therapy Session

“Keisha is your sister, correct?

“Yeah.” Dion twiddles his thumbs showing his anxiety from talking about his sister.

“When she told you that you couldn’t sing, how old were you?”

“I was seven, I looked at my sister at that time as my best friend. I looked to her for encouragement and support.”

“In that moment, do you feel like she failed you by crushing your expectations of her?”

“I did feel that way, wisdom and time has helped me to forgive her and understand that she wasn’t really trying to hurt my feelings. She was a  thirteen-year-old girl who was still hurting from the death of her mother, our mother. And she didn’t fully know how to process the things that were going on in her life at that time. Looking back, I actually feel bad for not being more understanding about the pain she was in. I held that against her for a long time.

“I know you said that you forgave your sister but what about the effect of what she said? Do you still want to become a singer?”

“Not really, I mean she wasn’t entirely wrong in what she said. She wasn’t entirely right either. I did love singing and my elementary school was a performing arts school so I got to do every area of performance whether I was good at it or not. I decided that my real passion lies somewhere between not just performing but also creating.”

“So you want to be a music producer? Or a singer-songwriter?”

 

About the Author

Dijon McIntyre is an Author/Actor/Director amongst many other things. He was raised in the beautiful sunshine state of Florida which has had a profound effect on his writing and his artistic performances. Getting into acting at the young age of 6, he is familiar with many different types of performing including acting and music but he attributes his love for all of these things to his undying love for God. Raised as a Christian and now identifying as a “follower of Christ”, Dijon has a vision to use his publishing/production company FreedomArtz to open up opportunities for the people who want to make their dreams come true while still maintaining a liveable wage doing what they love. You can find any of his three books on Amazon, Google Books, or any major online retailer. 

 

 

Social Media Links

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Book Blast – The Vanishing of Owen Taylor by Kyle Michel Sullivan #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Vanishing of Owen Taylor

Author:  Kyle Michel Sullivan

Publisher:  KMSCB

Cover Artist: JamTheCat

Release Date: April 28, 2016

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Murder Mystery/Suspense

Trope/s: Anti-gay conspiracy, intolerance, corrupt legal system

Themes: Cost of unconditional love

Warning: References to rape

Heat Rating: 3 out of 5

Length: 121 070 words/ 355 pages in PB; 274 in HC

Is it a standalone book? Somewhat. Jake Blaine is the MC in this book, and it’s a semi-followup to Rape in Holding Cell 6, a book I wrote with his lover, Antony, as the MC…but it’s not absolutely necessary you read that book to follow this one (tho’ it might help, at the beginning).

Add on Goodreads 

Book 1 – Rape in Holding Cell 6

 

Buy Links

Author’s Blog   |   Smashwords

    Amazon UK | Amazon US

 

When his uncle disappears, Jake goes to Palm Springs to find out why only to get caught in a web of fear, hate, betrayal … and what looks more and more like murder … with Jake targeted as the next victim.

 

Blurb 

Was it murder? Suicide? Or did Owen Taylor vanish to avoid prosecution for rape? Everyone had their own idea, but the only note he left behind was sent to his nephew, Jacob Blaine, in Denmark … which was crazy, because Owen knew Jake was currently living in the States.

Of course this happened at the worst possible time for Jake. He was helping his lover, Antony, fight bogus criminal charges; his estranged, anti-gay mother was battling cancer; his job in Copenhagen wanted him to return there — now; and worst of all … Antony was pushing him away. It was tearing him apart.

But Uncle Owen had backed him up through some rough times, so Jake made what he thought would be a short trip to Palm Springs, to see if he could find out what happened. He re-connected with Dion, his first true love, and then he discovered other men had also disappeared. On top of that, an organization called PSALMS was spreading hate and distrust of the gay community as part of their plan to turn back gay rights.

The more Jake dug into Owen’s disappearance, the more he found lies, deceit and treachery by members of the police force, people in the DA’s office, and even some of Owen’s friends. And behind it all was someone who would do everything they could to keep their true motives hidden.

Even have Jake vanish, as well.

 

Excerpt

This is from the end of Book 1, Part 4, where Jake has Antony and their techie-roommate, Matt, do some research:

They read the message and Matt did some cross-referencing on his diamond-sharp laptop as I spoke, popping in with, “Okay, got that here,” and, “It fits.” He also found a chart showing Warren Philby had a ninety-five percent conviction rate and was talking about running for Riverside District Attorney in the next election. As a Republican with a Tea Party bent.

Already I hated the prick.

That’s when I noticed Tone looking at me with his quiet, wary expression, so I snarled, “You don’t believe my uncle’d molest a kid, do you?”

“No.” He frowned like he was insulted I’d even asked him that question.

“So what…is…it?”

“I dunno. It just doesn’t line up with…well, your father called your mother, asking about your uncle’s condos and — “

“Condos? He had more’n one?”

“Four. One he lived in; three he rented out. He also owns some other property.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, how d’you know my father called mom?”

“She…she told me.”

I nearly fell off the chair. “My mother called you?”

Tone blinked and looked away. “Uh…looking for you. I…I told her you were…you were out of the country.”

“When?”

“Day before yesterday.”

Man, I should’ve gone to see her the second I got back.

“What’d she say to you, Tone?”

He sighed. “She knows why you’re here. And she…she said stuff like, That’s just like you, to let people drag you down. Then she gave me her number and address — “

“I know that shit,” I said. “I’m goin’ straight over.”

“She’s moved, Jake,” said Matt.

“She sold her townhouse? She loved that place.”

“Just telling you what she told me,” Tone said. He gave me a slip of paper with a phone number and address.

“This is south side,” I muttered.

Tone shrugged. He wouldn’t know, but my mother was one of those types who only want to live around acceptable people. In her eyes, Southside was…borderline…at best.

“Matt, we’ll be right back.” I went around the counter, took Tone by the arm and guided him up into the bedroom, then closed the door, sat him on the bed and kneeled before him, looking hard into his eyes.

“Y’know, I had lunch with Mira. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

He hesitated then looked straight back at me, his eyes sharp as cut diamonds. “That therapist I’m seeing…that the state’s making me see. I…I asked him to talk with her. Told him she’s a psychologist and has a clinic in Paris and…and I wanted her to know everything that happened was on me. Not you.”

“She already knew that.”

“…Maybe. This verified it.”

“And you talk about me not tellin’ you things?”

“I…uh…I didn’t think she’d let you know.”

“Great defense. So what’s in those notes?”

He looked away. “You already know everything in them.”

I took a deep breath. “Tone…what. The fuck. Is goin’ on, here?” He just stared at the wall. No expression. I took his face in my hands and made him look at me. “Okay, whatever it was that my mother said to you — keep in mind…that bitch kicked me out of her home when I was seventeen. I haven’t seen her since, so what she knows about me and who I am is zero. Zip. Nada. Anything she says is just her messin’ with us.”

He shrugged me off and said, “But she’s right. You wouldn’t be here except for me.”

“You’re right, you little shit — I wouldn’t. I’d be fresh out of jail. Or still livin’ in Nana’s house. Barely existing. I’d never have met my brothers and sisters in Paris, or gotten to work with my Uncle Ari, or become a Danish citizen. I’d be an ex-con. But I’m here, alive, because of you. So what. Did. My mother. Say. To you?”

“Just…just what I told you.”

“Bullshit!” No response. I sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor. “You don’t wanna talk, don’t. But this is a woman who told her only child that she hates him bein’ queer.”

“Maybe…maybe you shouldn’t go see her…“

“I got to. Somethin’ is goin’ on with my uncle and the only way to get the truth of what she knows is a face-to-face.”

He ran his hand through my hair. God, I loved it when he did that. Then he whispered, “Should I stock up on alcohol?”

I sighed from the emotion in his voice and nodded. “Twelve-pack. No, fuck it — Tequila.”

“I’ll get some mixers and we’ll make a nice queeny night of it. A Christian, a Muslim, and a Jew had a party…“ He snorted. “Sounds like the setup for a joke.”

I made him look at me. “Hey, I’m half Catholic.”

His hand whispered over my cheek and his eyes grew hurt, again. “My all-American mutt.”

All I could think to say was, “Don’t let mom mess with us, Tone.” He ruffled my hair then got up and left the room.

I leaned against the bed. He’d lied to me. My mother’s crap comments weren’t bad enough to rip him up. There was definitely something else going on in his head, and he’d used them as a wall to hide behind.

Well…sitting on the floor wasn’t getting anything done. I got up, got dressed, and headed over to the insurance company where she worked. I wanted a professional environment around us, in case things got nasty, because she was damn well going to explain to me what the hell she was pulling.

Only it turned out she hadn’t worked there in nearly three years.

Man…I had a lot of catching up to do, with her.

 

About the Author 

Kyle Michel Sullivan is a writer and self-involved artist out to change the world until it changes him…as has already happened in far too many ways.

He has written books that range from sunshine and light (“David Martin”) to cold and dark (“How To Rape A Straight Guy”, which has been banned a couple of times) to flat out crazy (“The Lyons’ Den”) to mainstream (“The Alice ’65”). He has now ventured into SF-Horror-Suspense with “The Beast in the Nothing Room” and taken Capitalism to its logical extreme in “Hunter”.

He is currently working to complete “A Place of Safety”, his Irish novel; “Darian’s Point”, a gothic horror story set in Ireland; and “Dair’s Window”, about an artist trying to rebuild his world after the death of his lover.

Kyle uses Tolstoy as his guide, and is trying to build characters as vivid and real as possible. He has a lot of fun doing it mixed with angst, anger, and amazement… but that’s the lot of a writer.

 

Author Links

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Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

a signed hardcover copy of The Vanishing of Owen Taylor

or

signed paperback set of Rape in Holding Cell 6 & The Vanishing of Owen Taylor 

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Book Blast – Fast, Free and Flying by Jude Tresswell #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Fast, Free and Flying (County Durham Quad, #6)

Author: Jude Tresswell

Publisher: Self-published (KDP)

Release Date: December 9, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary gay mystery

Trope/s: Ace/non-ace relationships

Themes:  Compromise; guilt; revenge

Heat Rating:  1 flame

Length: 63 000 words

The mystery story stands alone. Helpful, but not essential, to have read a previous title due to character development.

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

 

Suspects of one crime. Victims of another.

 

Blurb

Drones lie at the heart of this mystery facing Mike, Ross, Raith and Phil, four men who live in North-East England.

A spate of art-related burglaries and a series of horrific kidnaps have occurred. The freedom of the quad, and that of Nick, their special friend, is threatened by involvement in both cases. They are suspected of one and Mike is a victim of the other. The officer in charge is the quad’s old enemy, the homophobic Chief Inspector Fortune. Should the quad set aside their distrust and tell him what they know?

Meanwhile, Nick has issues of his own to consider. Compromises are needed, but how many? 

This is the sixth tale in the County Durham Quad series. Background is included to aid new readers.

 

Excerpt

From Chapter 1

(The whole chapter, read by the author with aerial footage of the setting, is available on YouTube. Link below) 

A new sound had been added to the rustic ones that normally formed the backdrop to life in the Durham hills. Instead of the bleating of sheep, there was a whirring—and it came from the sky. The quad’s new video channel was up and running, and Raith, plus drone, was filming everything and everyone. He was, as he liked to put it, “Doing the rounds.”

   “Doin’ my head in,” was how it seemed to Mike and, right then, there was a danger of that actually happening. Mike was responsible for nearly all the quad’s maintenance work. He was sitting astride a rooftop, replacing the flashing on one of Tunhead’s chimneys. Tunhead was the little hamlet where the quad lived. It was the seat of BOTWAC, the Beck On The Wear Arts Centre, and the video channel was designed, in part, to promote the artisans’ wares.

   “Watch what you’re doin’ with that bloody thing!” Mike yelled from his perch.

   “It’s alright, Mike. I’m in full control,” Raith yelled back.

   “Not from where I am, you’re not! I thought you weren’t supposed to fly it over buildin’s!”

   Raith made the drone whizz round in a circle and shouted, “Well Tunhead doesn’t really count as buildings, does it? I mean, twelve tiny houses, my studio and a disused church. It’s hardly buildings.”

   “It felt like buildin’s when Ross and I were refurbishin’ it all, and it felt like buildin’s three years ago when I knocked the walls through to next door just to give you leg room.”

   “That’s building, Mike, not buildings.”

   Sometimes, there was no answer to Raith’s logic. Mike swore softly, sighed and decided to wait until tea-time, when all the men would be home together. They’d discuss Raith and his drone then. First things first. He continued repairing the chimney.

***

   In Tees, Tyne and Wear Constabulary’s new Tyneside police station, another drone-related conversation had caused heated words that day. The woman making a complaint was angry.

   “Look,” she said to the officer on the front counter, “this is the third time it’s happened in a fortnight. I ignored the first invasion of my privacy. The second time the blesséd thing was hovering overhead, I telephoned. I was told that someone would contact me. Nobody’s done so, and this morning it happened again. I want something doing. I feel I can’t go into my own garden and I’m bothered that whoever’s doing this is spying on me and my children. It’s horrible and it shouldn’t be allowed.”

   The woman had good reason to feel harassed. She lived in what had once been the lodge of a large country estate. That is, she occupied the house that lay at one end of a long, tree-lined drive. The drive led, through parkland with trees and an ornamental lake, to a substantial eighteenth century property. On three occasions recently, the peace of the surroundings had been broken by the whirring of a drone. More importantly, she felt intimidated by the drone’s presence. As she said, she felt she was being spied on. Surely that was a crime?

   It was, the official told her. At least two different offences connected with drone misuse might be invoked on the woman’s behalf, but, in a case like hers, invoking them was problematic. Even if an incident should happen again and a patrol car could reach her while the drone was still visible and airborne, there was little that officers could do. Firstly, they would need to locate and identify the flyer. If they felt that a harassment offence had been committed, they could instruct the flyer to land the drone. However, there was no power of seizure and, indeed, no power to even view the footage unless there was suspected terrorist activity—unlikely in this case. The woman had to be content with an apology and a promise that an officer would definitely come and visit her. In fact, a detective called a few days later, but not specifically because of her case. By then, the big country house had been burgled, and thousands of pounds of silver, porcelain and artwork had been stolen.

 

About the Author 

Jude Tresswell lives in south-east England but was born and raised in the north, and that’s where her heart is. She is ace, and has been married to the same man for many years. She feels that she understands compromise. She supports Liverpool FC, listens to a lot of blues music and loves to write dialogue.

Blog/Website

 

 

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Book Blast – Midas Touch: A Christmas Romance by Alex Hall #KindleUnlimited #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Midas Touch: A Christmas Romance

Author: Alex Hall

Publisher: Madison Place Press

Cover Artist: Rebecca Slather

Release Date: November 9, 2020

Genre: F/F Romance

Themes/Tropes: Christmas, childhood friends to lovers

Heat Rating:  3 flames   

Length:  75 000 words/ 208 pages

It is a standalone book.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

 

Blurb

Gwen Cook has returned to Williamsburg, Virginia, after more than a decade away from her family estate. Frankie Porter has spent the last year renovating that same estate, turning the dilapidated Cook mansion into a showpiece. Gwen and Frankie shared a childhood full of hard secrets and ripe with first love. Now adults, their paths cross again and sparks fly.

A HEA with content warnings for PTSD and implied child abuse.

 

Excerpt 

 The boathouse had barely changed in twelve years. The creek ran quite a bit deeper and wider. Brown water had swallowed up much of the far bank and licked in pools about the base of the boathouse itself. Frankie had to shove back kudzu and sumac as she walked. The soles of her boots sank inches into mud. Tiny pink-and-white wildflowers grew up between the trees, and here and there she spotted a drooping hedge bright with red berries.

She made her way cautiously through the undergrowth until she could touch the old building. Standing against the foundation, she cocked her head and squinted up along brick walls. The boathouse seemed as sturdy as she remembered. Two stories high and crumbling on the outside, it was ruler straight and strong except for the roof, which still sagged but hadn’t given in to the elements and fallen.

“Used to be, they knew how to build to last.” Frankie patted the warm brick.

The structure didn’t tower the way it had in her childhood, but she supposed it wouldn’t. She had grown—her bones had lengthened into adulthood. She’d managed to top five feet, barely. At sixteen, she’d feared she would be stuck forever just above four.

Frankie hesitated, glancing up into the sky. The trees had grown tall, and she could see less of the sun than she remembered. The place was definitely cooler, definitely shadier; but on a warm summer afternoon, shade wasn’t such a bad thing.

She leaned against the boathouse and untied her boots. Stripping off her shoes and socks, she stood barefoot in the mud, regarding the brick walls. Twelve years gone and she was no longer a child. Could she do it?

Of course she could. Was it wise?

Probably not.

But her fingers and toes found the old cracks easily, and before she knew it, she was halfway up the wall. The brick brushed her khaki shorts, leaving brown stains. A branch streaked her white shirt with sap. Frankie didn’t notice. At the top she hoisted herself over the edge of the roof and onto the shingles. She sat very still, holding her breath, waiting to see if the roof would protest. The shingles held, even when she rose to her feet and tiptoed across the top of the boathouse to her old perch.

She looked up and around first, admiring the oak and the dogwood and the ash with their green-as-grass leaves. She sucked in the fragrance of the creek as she brushed her bangs from her eyes. Then she took a deeper breath and looked down.

James Creek glittered below, cut into geometric shapes by dim sunlight. Shadows gathered at the edges of the water and then spread away along the bank. From where she stood, the water looked deep and inviting.

 

About the Author 

Sarah Remy/Alex Hall is a nonbinary, animal-loving, proud gamer Geek. Their work can be found in a variety of cool places, including HarperVoyagerEDGE and NineStar Press.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Twitter: @sarahremywrites 

 

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Book Blast – Toy Soldiers (Book 2, When We Were Young series) #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title:  Toy Soldiers (Book 2, When We Were Young series)

Author:  Maggie Blackbird

Publisher:  Devine Destinies

Cover Artist: Martine Jardin

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance, young adult, multicultural, LGBT

Trope/s: Friends to lovers

Themes: Coming of age, coming out

Heat Rating:  1 flame   

Length: 70 349 words/ 244 pages

It is NOT a standalone book.  Book 1 needs to be read first.

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Buy Links 

Amazon US |  Amazon CA |  Amazon UKAmazon AU

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 Once a thief, always a thief, and if he can’t win the heart of the boy he loves, he’ll steal it.

 

Blurb  

Billy Redsky’s made one of his biggest dreams come true, but there’s a problem. Even though the boy he loves is mere footsteps across the hall from his bedroom, they might as well live a country apart because claiming René Oshawee’s heart is more difficult than Billy anticipates.

Much to Billy’s disgust, René can’t accept his true self, so he’s incapable of loving someone else. And all he cares about is living a life the chief and his wife foresee for their youngest son.

If Billy is to finally have what he truly desires, he must stop René from running away from who he really is and face the man in the mirror, or what they share will never blossom into true love

 

 

Excerpt 

Stuart lived past the recreation center. Billy huffed down the road. Sure, he’d be interrupting dinnertime, but big deal. He couldn’t stay in Castle Oshawee any longer.

 The boiling heat of anger beneath his clothing stopped him from freezing under the clear, cold sky. Darkness was fast approaching. The sun on the horizon was bursting with colors of mauve, scarlet, and pumpkin.

 The big door at the recreation center opened. Billy’s old buddies, Lonn and Dylan, strolled outside to probably have a cigarette. When they strutted away from the doors and beelined for the road, Billy stiffened. They knew he could beat their asses—especially since he outweighed them by a good fifteen pounds now.

 “’Sup?” Lonn called out, slyly grinning.

 “Not much.” Billy stopped. He wasn’t going to keep walking like a coward afraid of the neighborhood bullies. “Heard you both got kicked out.” Because neither rode the school bus anymore.

 “No biggie.” Lon shrugged. “Y’know we were bailing when we turned the big one-six.”

A direction Billy had been heading before dumb ol’ René had turned him into one of The General’s toy soldiers in Oshawee Army.

 Splashes of rebellion bubbled under Billy’s skin. He might’ve blown off telling Mr. and Mrs. O where he was going tonight, but he’d been heading for Stuart’s, and later going home right on the button of his curfew time, like a good little grunt.

 He folded his arms. “What’re you doing?”

 “What else? Heading for the old house.” Lonn dropped another sly smile.

 Dylan nodded, also grinning.

 When Billy had used to party there, they’d burned stuff in the woodstove to keep warm during the winter.

 “You coming, or are you still hanging with the geek twins?” Lonn elbowed a chuckling Dylan.

 “Sure, why not?” Nobody at Castle Oshawee had given a flying fuck Billy had left the house. As for René, screw him. All he cared about was following the rules and obeying the orders coming from everyone seated in the living room.

 

 

About the Author

An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes.  When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.

 

Author Links

 Web Site | Facebook Page | Twitter 

BookBub | Linked In | Amazon Author Page 

eXtasy Books Author Page | Newsletter Sign-Up

 

 

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Book Blast – Taste: A Novella Inspired by the film ‘Call Me By Your Name’ by Christian Williams #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Taste: A Novella Inspired by the film ‘Call Me By Your Name’

Author: Christian Williams

Publisher: Self-published

Release Date: July 1, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: Age gap, bisexuality

Themes: Family circumstances, desire for change

Length: 23 892 words/104 pages

Heat Rating:  4 flames      

It is a standalone book.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

Two guys, one film. An unexpected affair that changes everything.

 

Blurb 

JJ and Donnie are two lost souls from different worlds, brought together by a film that changes their lives.

18 year old JJ dreams of escaping from the North London tower block he shares with his emotionally absent mother and her abusive boyfriend. Donnie is a successful accountant in his mid-30s struggling to deal with the breakup of his marriage and his failing relationship with his 15 year old daughter. Both JJ and Donnie become entranced by the film ‘Call Me By Your Name’, a passionate love story featuring characters remarkably similar to themselves. Could they end up writing their own love story, or will their pasts and their futures end up tearing them apart?

This powerful novella explores the passions and pitfalls of love in the modern age, as the two main characters dreamily live out their erotic fantasies before having to decide whether their destinies lie together or apart.

 

Excerpt 

 A gentle breeze crept through the open window, ruffling Donnie’s hair like a mischievous child. He stirred. He froze. There was someone in his arms. They were wrapped up in a sheet together. It was JJ. His mind filled, quick as a backdraft.

Donnie opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was JJ’s smooth, honey-coloured shoulder. So beautifully rounded. So bare. His eyes travelled along the top of JJ’s shoulder blades to the back of his neck, where wavy blond hair curled and fussed against young, lovely skin. Although his face was only inches away, Donnie moved in closer and inhaled gently, the scent of this boy so curious, so alien. He brushed his lips against JJ’s neck, not daring to do more than hold them there as delicately as he could. If JJ were to awake now, and decided this had all been a mistake, Donnie would understand, and forever be glad of this moment. And yet, he hardly dared move a muscle, for he wanted JJ to sleep forever. To waken would be to deny Donnie the right to this moment, to this precious, illicit moment, where right was wrong and wrong was so, so right. Where the dream and the dreamer suddenly find each other, as time separates from reality and consciousness transcends itself. Laying in his marital bed holding JJ, who slept so beautifully unaware, he realised that never once with Sarah had he felt this level of intimacy. This was something more than desire, more than sex, more than love. This was perfection beyond human comprehension.

Donnie suddenly noticed a throbbing in his groin. Ah of course, his earthly body didn’t understand the spiritual significance of the situation and was responding in its usual base, carnal way, for that is all it knows how to do. Even though they both had underwear on, Donnie felt that to allow his erection to creep its way towards JJ’s sleeping figure would be sacrilegious. He instinctively moved his hips backwards, yet in doing so broke the spell, and JJ sighed gently before turning his head, his body following momentarily behind as he shifted position. Sensing the light, his eyes flickered open. Donnie’s heart stopped. Their faces were no more than three inches apart, their eyes at the same level, staring, questioning, not quite believing. Donnie saw JJ smile. This was all the confirmation he needed. He pulled JJ’s body closer to him, and knew he was home.

 

About the Author 

Christian Williams is the pen name of Anthony Williams, who mostly writes non-fiction work but has ventured into the world of M/M fiction for the first time.

 

 

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Book Blast – Sex and the City Plotholes by Nicole Taylor #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Sex and the City Plotholes

Author: Nicole Taylor

Cover Artist and Publisher: Nicole Taylor

Fiction or Non-Fiction: Non-Fiction

Genre/s: Humor

Trope/s: TV Plot and Character Flaws

Themes: TV Series Satire

Heat Rating:  No sexual content.

Length: 65 000 words/ 206 pages

It is a standalone book.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US  | Amazon UK  |  Amazon AU  | booktopia |  fishpond

 Universal Link

 

“SATC is my religion, so I’m offended by this book. But fuck, it’s funny.” – Dario Holley, Gay Icon 

 

Blurb 

“I couldn’t help but wonder….”. If you cringed while watching Sex and the City but still can’t get enough of it, this is the book for you. A modern recap of this iconic television series, for diehard Sex and the City addicts.

“Sex and the City Plotholes” is a dryly hilarious summary of each of the ninety-four episodes and two movies of Sex and The City, an enormously popular American romantic comedy-drama which ran from 1998 to 2004. The show was ground-breaking in many ways. It introduced many plot features which had never been seen so openly on mainstream television, including sexual promiscuity, non-standard relationships, coarse language, fetishes, and homosexuality, to name a few. Enjoy discovering the multitude of flaws in the plotlines and characters, explored through the more politically correct 21st century lens.

Included are several “top ten” lists covering such subjects as “Ten Worst Dates” and “Ten Unresolved Plotlines”. You’ll also find Inane Dialogue, Miranda Moments and Best Quotes throughout.

 

Excerpt 

Season 5

8 “I Love a Charade”

Carrie wears a terrible dress and worse hairstyle to a Hamptons wedding. We are assailed with mentions of “zsa zsa zsu”, a made-up term of speech that thankfully only lasts one episode. Berger shows up again, now single but no more likeable. Charlotte realises she has fallen for Harry, but is dismayed when he tells her it can never be because she’s not Jewish (which explains why he was OK with being a fuck buddy). Samantha demands Smarmy Richard, who she dumped a while ago, allow her to use his Hamptons house for a huge party. The SATC girls crack continual jokes about Bitsy von Muffling marrying the gayest man in New York.

The girls are off to a wedding, amidst their disbelief and amusement that Bobby Fine, a cabaret piano entertainer who tells his audience he wears pink caftans and a Peggy Lee wig in the privacy of his own home, is marrying Bitsy Von Muffling, a thin middle aged socialite with platinum hair. There is much consternation among the SATC girls about why they are getting married at all, but the general agreement is that it must be for companionship. Carrie bleats on about the zsa zsa zsu – the butterflies in your stomach you get when you’re in love – and how it couldn’t possibly exist in a gay/straight union. I’m already wishing zsa zsa zsu didn’t exist as vocabulary in the script.

In ongoing coincidences, Harry handled Bitsy’s divorce, so he’s invited to the wedding. He wants Charlotte to go with him, and as they are slowly progressing away from fuck buddies to something more, Charlotte agrees to go; but only if he waxes his back. He must have it done at the same place that butchered Samantha’s face peel, because after the wax his back looks as though it’s been grilled on a Broil King. We’ve all waxed our legs, haven’t we ladies? There should be no ongoing redness or welting, and certainly no pain after the procedure. Charlotte is horrified to see Harry’s back looking like breakfast bacon, but at least it’s hairless. She finds other things to complain about though: Harry’s shirt, his use of the word “tits” and his tendency to eat without caring about food on his face. Harry is characteristically good natured about it all. He’s slowly becoming my second favourite SATC lead cast member (after Miranda). Except for the teabag thing, but we’ll get to that.

On their way to the huge party that Samantha has decided to host at Richard’s house in the Hamptons, Jack Berger makes another appearance, just in time to create some drama in season 6. He rides badly on a motorcycle to the very same fast food joint where the SATC girls minus Charlotte are having lunch. It’s quite the coincidence. The motorcycle is an impulse purchase Berger made to get him through a breakup with the girlfriend Carrie was hopeful he would break up with. However, he’s not very confident in riding it, which makes me wonder how he got his license, and if he should really be riding it up to the Hamptons. Carrie invites him to Samantha’s party, and he knows the house because Berger has a Hamptons house as well. (So does Harry; have you noticed how many people have Hamptons houses on SATC?)

At the party, Carrie and Berger sit outside the house together on the grass and Carrie delivers a one-woman monologue about her last breakup and breakups in general, crapping on well long enough to make her seem a dozen kinds of crazy. Berger can’t get away fast enough, even pulling his jacket out from under Carrie so suddenly she tips sideways. Carrie, in her characteristic narcissistic way, has scared him off. I’m still waiting for someone to quote Lisa Kirk to Carrie:

“A gossip is one who talks to you about others; a bore is one who talks to you about himself; and a brilliant conversationalist is one who talks to you about yourself.”

It may have helped Carrie a little in life. Anyway, moving on to the actual wedding reception. Harry professes to Charlotte that he’s falling for her, but then follows up that he can never marry her because she’s not Jewish. They decide to just dance and figure it all out in season 6. Miranda is ruminating over her recent accidental sex with Steve (again!) and realises she may be falling for him too. Berger shows up yet again, invited that very day by the groom (because when you pay $500 a head for a lavish Hamptons wedding, it’s ok to ask random people on the street to attend on seven hours’ notice). Carrie keeps her mouth firmly shut, embarrassed by her earlier verbal haemorrhage, and they decide to date properly before their (spoiler) rocky relationship and spectacular breakup in season 6. Samantha isn’t falling in love with anyone, I’m relieved to say, because that’s enough love (or simulation thereof) for one episode.

Style note: I can’t even say how much I hate the dress and hair combo Carrie wears to the wedding. The other girls somehow always put it together for events, but Carrie is generally relied upon to wear unflattering frocks, like this one that is just a strapless gathered piece that looks like the towel you wear under your arms when you’re stripped off and about to get a massage. Don’t get me started on the hair.

 

 

About the Author 

Nicole Taylor writes from Sydney, Australia, where Sex and the City reruns are a constant on Foxtel. In addition to her SATC addiction she has a Seinfeld addiction, a pole addiction (the kind you dance on) and two adorable cats who helpfully sit on her keyboard while she types. She has released an album of pop music called “Ambiguosexual” and is writing her next novel.

 

 

Author Link

Facebook Group

 

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Book Blast – Trust by Aprille Canniff

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Trust

Author: Aprille Canniff

Publisher: Page Publishing Inc. 

Genre/s: Crime, Lesbian Romance

Trope/s: Forbidden love

Themes: Crime, trust, betrayal

Length: 119 679 words/ 328 pages

Heat Rating: 3 flames

It is a standalone book.

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK  |  B&N

 

 

When everyone has something to hide, who do you trust?

Blurb

In the military and law enforcement, the line between right and wrong is clear. Who you trust absolutely has never been questioned…until now.

Air Force Security Forces Master Sergeant Alex Thomas just got back from a rough deployment and already has a new assignment-to train a new team in everything she knows. Much to her dismay, her new team is not military but members of the Boston Police Department. When she finally meets them, she realizes why the military and local law enforcement don’t team up. Officer Jen Miceli doesn’t play by the rules and is all too willing to take risks. The two women are locked in a battle of the wills, but when the team comes across a large stash of weapons and drugs, their world is turned upside down by who it implicates. As members of the Boston PD are ambushed and friends are fighting for their lives, Alex must find a way to complete the mission and keep her team alive.

What do you do when the lines that you have always counted on become blurred? When you don’t know who to trust?

 

Excerpt


Her kidnappers grabbed her hair, pulled her head back, and lifted the bag off her face just far enough to take the tape off her mouth. “Yell and you will get hurt, cooperate and you will be let go.” The same voice that held the gun to her head earlier spoke into her ear. She couldn’t pick up an accent indicating where her attackers might be from, and all that she knew at this point was that they were silent, specific, and cold. Every move they made so far was deliberate, and she had no doubt that these people would follow through on any threat they made. She was getting scared. She mentally evaluated her situation—she could not feel her hands, her legs were tied together, she didn’t know where she was, and she was outnumbered at least three to one. If they would just take this damn hood off, I might be able to figure a way out of this.

“What is your name?”

“Jennifer O’Malley.”

“So you like to tell lies, do you?” the unknown voice asked with a hint of anticipation. “Do it.”

The chair was pulled out from under her, and the moment she hit the floor, she felt three punches, all landing in the gut. She was coughing and still trying to suck in air when she was lifted back up and on to the chair.

“What is your name?” Her captor’s voice was like the calm before a storm.

She took a minute to catch her breath and then sat straight up. “You already know, so why don’t you cut the crap and tell me what you want.” She spat out her words with as much venom and calm restraint as she could find.

“It looks like we have a lively one here.” He laughed a controlled laugh before continuing. “Okay then, what is your new sergeant up to these days?”

They are after the sarge? Not a chance in hell am I saying anything. “Who?”

“Sergeant Thomas, the woman who has been training you. What is she teaching you and why?”

She smiled. “I don’t know who or what you are talking about, asshole.”

“You will, little girl, you will. That you can trust me on.” The tape was put back over her mouth, and she was thrown back onto the floor before he even stopped speaking.

What felt like hours later, the only things that had changed were the number of times she was prodded in the ribs by someone’s boot and her temper. Fury replaced fear, and determination replaced doubt. They are not getting anything on the sarge no matter what. The “or what” was the part that she was trying to prepare herself for when she was grabbed again.

Tossed on the chair and tape ripped off again, she was asked, “What is your teacher teaching you?”

This time, she laughed. “Don’t know, I’m not a good student.”

After a short moment’s pause, her captor said, “Drink,” just before what tasted like water was forced into her mouth. “I am not going to poison you. I just want information, and how can I get that if you die of dehydration?” her captor said with a hint of humor in his voice. “Drink.”

She did her best to try and spit it out, but a hand pressed against her mouth, preventing her from being able to. For the next hour, she was made to drink water and asked the same

question. “What is she teaching you?” Jen changed her answers from simple laughter to blatant insults. “Well, I think I will just have to come back to her. Are her friends still upstairs?”

 

 

About the Author

Aprille Canniff is a deputy sheriff and member of the Air National Guard. Trust is her first published novel, which she wrote while deployed to Afghanistan. She currently lives in Virginia with her wife and “ninja” cat. When she isn’t writing or working, her passion is fishing and bragging about how big the one that got away was.

 

 

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Book Blast – 2037: The End of Tolerance by Luke Mauerman #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: 2037: The End of Tolerance

Author: Luke Mauerman

Publisher: Beekman Place Editions

Cover Artist: Mark Anderson

Release Date: May 21, 2019

Genre/s: Gay, Science Fiction, Dystopian

Trope/s: When Gay Becomes Illegal

Themes: Culture War, Future Dystopia, Gay Love, Technology

Heat Rating: 2 flames      

Length: 235 pages

It is a standalone book.

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

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When Gay Becomes Illegal

Blurb 

A novel about life in a United States gone mad, where the government falls apart, California secedes from the union, and Liberals and Conservatives finally battle each other in the streets. It’s the Culture War, and it’s coming. Find out what to do when men and women start to get caged up just for being gay; when climate disasters unfold and wreck the economy; when the world falls apart once and for all. It’s ‘Atlas Shrugged,’ but in reverse. 

Stephe Stafford, embroiled in this conflict, hopes to preserve his sanity—and even finds love along the way. In 2037 we watch Stephe, orphaned in the Great San Francisco Earthquake of 2022, grow up and even blossom into his own. 

New technologies and old politics weave together to form amazing possibilities and hopes—and certain dangers, too. Read about the fate of America as we move into a chilling new future. Find out what can we do when the world goes awry. 

 

Excerpt 

Republican President Mitch Kellum, elected in 2028, urged calm, but the damage was done. Calls for the election to be overturned sprang from all parts of the country. Kellum denied any wrongdoing. It was the Russians and the Chinese, he claimed, determined to destabilize the U.S. 

Democrats had lost all remaining political power and the conservative U.S. Supreme Court upheld the election in predictable fashion, six to three. 

It was like a bomb had gone off. Protests turned to riots. Far-right fundamentalists took to the streets in support of the election, and faced off with teeming hordes of furious liberals. A nation that had been savagely divided, blue against red, liberal against conservative for the past thirteen years, would eventually fall into violence. It finally happened in Philadelphia on November 9, 2030. Rioting liberals clashed with Freedom Fighters, neo-Nazis, and Proud Boys on Market Street at the beautiful Philadelphia City Hall building.  Fisticuffs, brawls, burning cars. Shots rang out. The police, caught in the middle, fell apart; each officer defected to his or her side of the political divide and joined the fight.

The Culture War had begun. 

Battlements were hastily built in the streets of Washington, DC, New York, Chicago, Seattle, Los Angeles, Miami, Atlanta, and Minneapolis. It was bedlam. The streets became littered with bodies as street fights broke out: Red versus Blue, Conservative versus Liberal. 

People fled the cities only to find skirmishes in the suburbs. Ikea parking lots were battle zones. A Home Depot in Enid, Oklahoma, was burnt to the ground. Fires started everywhere. 

The country spasmed in violence, hand to hand, block by block. After thirteen years of political loggerheads, the center could no longer hold. Any attempt at civil discourse fell on deaf ears. It was us against them, everywhere. 

A typical confrontation would be as follows: Unarmed Liberals vastly outnumbered armed Freedom Fighters. They’d go toe-to-toe in the streets, yelling and waving signs in confrontation. Fist fights would break out. But then someone would get mad, grab their gun, and start shooting. Others would join in and the unarmed protesters would flee back behind barricades of cars, buses, dumpsters and buildings, leaving the dead and wounded in the street. It was like a form of trench warfare—and this was played out in cities and towns across the country. Attack and retreat. Attack and retreat. And anger—people were incredibly angry. They fought tooth and nail, neighbor against neighbor, family member against family member.

In San Francisco the tens of thousands of liberals lining Market Street day after day eventually found themselves being bludgeoned by Freedom Fighters. Skirmish lines fell into place along the main street and shots were fired. Freedom Fighters were hopelessly outnumbered though and, despite having guns, were quickly overpowered by the throngs of San Franciscans. They fled. 

Stephe was there with Nicole. They’d come up from Harrison Street to take part in the demonstration that day. Nicole wound up hitting a neo-Nazi with her shoe, bloodying his face while Stephe—feeling nothing but cold rage—just took his rifle and hit him with it. 

The National Guard had to be mobilized to quell the riots, and still it wasn’t enough. The U.S. Army and the Marines were added and took to the streets with water cannons and tear gas. 

Finally the main fights in the bigger cities were quelled by force. After six bloody days the spasm ended. Thousands were dead. Many more thousands were arrested by the military and taken to separate camps, red and blue, for disturbing the peace and inciting violence.

Thus began a new Cold War as Americans could no longer speak to one another. 

 

 

About the Author 

Luke Mauerman is a former columnist for Bear and 100% Beef Magazines, and is well into his trilogy of books on time travel. He majored in English from the University of Washington in Seattle and currently resides in Palm Springs.

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Book Blast – Earnest Ink by Alex Hall

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Earnest Ink

Author: Alex Hall

Publisher: Nine Star Press

Published: October 14, 2019

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Genre/s: Queer Spec Fic, Sci-Fi/Fantasy, Thriller/Suspense

Trope/s: Found family

Themes: Mystery/adventure

Heat Rating:  1 flame

Orientation: Asexual, Pansexual

Identity: Cisgender, Trans

Warning: Depictions of Trauma, Blood, Violence, Murder,

Eating disorders, Body hatred, Transphobia, PTSD, War

Length: 72 100 words/244 pages

It is a standalone book.

Add on Goodreads

 

 

Blurb 

While twenty-year-old FTM Hemingway is making an excellent living as a tattoo artist in a near-future version of Hell’s Kitchen, the rest of the country is splintered and struggling in the wake of a war gone on for too long. Technology has collapsed, borders rise and fall overnight, and magic has awakened without rhyme, reason, or rule, turning average unwitting citizens into wielders of strange and specific strands of magic.

Hemingway’s particular brand of magic has made him a household name. Not only is he a talented artist, but his work comes to life. Literally.

When NYC’s most infamous serial killer—the East River Ripper—abducts Hemingway’s best friend, Grace, he has only days to save her. Hemingway teams up with his stoic cop roommate to hunt for the killer and rescue Grace before she becomes the Ripper’s latest victim. But as the duo chase clues to the serial killer’s identity, Hemingway begins to fear the magic he and the Ripper share might eventually corrupt him too. 

 

Buy Links

NineStar Press  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Smashwords  |  B&N  | Kobo

 

Excerpt 

Earnest Ink

Alex Hall © 2019

All Rights Reserved

I work without speaking because that’s the way I prefer it. The vibration of my machine, the softer buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead, the tap of my foot on the pedal—it’s the best music in the world.

When I hit a ticklish spot, the girl I’m working on gasps, jolting in my chair.

“Don’t move,” I say. And then, with a salesman’s false cheer: “Almost done!”

The girl is sweating down the crook of her neck. She’s got silver glitter paint on her eyelids and cheeks, a new fashion trend I just can’t quite get behind. Under my lights the mix of perspiration and makeup looks like a blurry constellation.

She wanted a bee inked onto her collarbone, one of those tiny honeybees you find on good tequila bottles. Easily done, and she met the cash requirement. She’s eager, nervous, and breathing in and out in little puffs.

I can’t remember her name, but that’s fine. Customer relations is Eric’s job.

There’s another kid leaning over my glass counter, watching eagerly as I work. “Does it hurt?” he asks. “When the magic happens?”

The bee’s fat yellow thorax wriggles from side to side as it begins to wake, fighting the pressure of my needle, hungry for life.

“It looks like it hurts,” the kid says. I ignore him.

One minute more and—thanks to my peculiar magic—this bee will fly free.

I’m perched on a swivel stool, a wet paper towel in my hand to wipe away ink. It’s too hot in my studio, even with the industrial fans whirling overhead and the door propped wide open. Evening light slants in through the door and the north-facing, floor-to-ceiling window panes that look out onto West Forty-Sixth. It’s muggy, too warm for New York in October, and all of Hell’s Kitchen is wilting, including my client.

“What does it feel like?” the kid demands. He’s leaving greasy fingerprints on the surface of the glass as he strains to get a better look at what I’m doing. I study him out the corner of my eye, wiping sweat off my nose with the back of my wrist before it drips on my customer. He looks like one of the street punks who have taken to running in packs near the cruise terminals, sleeping in old, abandoned cargo containers and panhandling up and down the marina.

He’s skinny and tall, hair dyed an unsettling violet and styled into spikes all over his head. He’s got a silver ring in his septum and more hoops in his ears; his eyelashes are coated with purple mascara to match his hair. Green glitter paint sparkles on his lids. His T-shirt and jeans are torn and dirty, and he’s got a pack of black-market cigarettes rolled into one sleeve against his upper arm.

 

 

 About the Author 

Sarah Remy/Alex Hall is a nonbinary, animal-loving, proud gamer Geek.

Their work can be found in a variety of cool places, including HarperVoyager, EDGE and NineStar Press

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Twitter: @sarahremywrites 

 

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

Book Blast – Damaged Hearts: The Boys of Venice Beach, Book 1 by Jan St. Marcus

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Damaged Hearts: The Boys of Venice Beach, Book 1

Author: Jan St. Marcus

Publisher: SBPRA (Paperback), Blue Ascot Media (eBook)

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance, LGBTQ Romance, LGBTQ Fiction

Trope/s: Hurt/Comfort, First Time Gay

Themes: Rescue Me, Romantic Thriller

Heat Rating: 4 flames      

Length: 138 000 words/ 466 pages

It is Book 1 of a planned Series

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Tragic Pasts. Unexpected Love. Unseen Danger.

Blurb

When 19-year-old military veteran Brandon Hawkins is attacked on Venice Beach by a gang of frat boys, he is saved by Michael Angelo Curtis, a passer-by. Michel Angelo was roaming the boardwalk grieving the death of his twin brother six months earlier. The two men’s unexpected encounter forges a strong bond between the damaged and lonely men.

Inviting the homeless Bran to his place for some food and a shower, 25-year-old Michel Angelo finds himself drawn to the younger man. Neither of the men is gay. But before long, their friendship morphs into something like love and takes them both by surprise.

And they have something else in common: The frat boys are out for revenge.

 

Trailer Video


 

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  B&N 

 

Excerpt 

BRANDON

But a little ways down, the pizza joint is just closing down. They have those ridiculously big slices of pizza and most people who don’t weigh at least three hundred pounds can’t finish their slices. Fuck the hot dogs. Half of a giant slice of pizza will do me just fine. Besides, trying to remember to say “catsup” instead of “ketchup” would make my brain hurt. And if I’m being honest, I do see the frat boy douchebags laughing and being all loud and douchey, but I really want to see if they’ll leave some of their slices uneaten. So I hang back a little and pretend to be looking for something on the ground. After about a minute or so, they drop their slices on the counter and start walking away. Score! I walk towards where they left their pizzas with my head down, like I haven’t noticed what they left for me. They’re about twenty feet away when one of them turns back and clocks me checking out their pizza. The fat one grabs the other one’s arm and points to me. I look up and see them seeing me seeing their pizza. Did that make sense? Fuck it. So anyway, as soon as they notice me, I kind of figure that they are going to be douchebags about their pizza, but I hold out hope. The fat one doesn’t need any more pizza, that’s for sure, but my stomach is getting the better of me, so I speed up a little bit. They’re closer and they return to the counter, beating me there by three steps.

Then the fat one, who seems to be the leader of this fucked-up pack of douchebags, picks up what’s left of his slice and lifts it up in my direction, like he’s offering it to me. Really? Maybe they aren’t such douchebags after all. I lift my eyes and start to smile. I’m going to thank him. I’m actually going to say “Thank you.” I do manage to smile as I approach because I realize that I haven’t said two words to anyone all day. He looks me in the eye and when I start to reach out my hand, he hocks a big ol’ lugey and splats it right on the pizza. Then he holds it out like I still want it. Okay, I know it’s probably gross, but I do still want it. His aim was pretty good and the glob of spit and snot has landed pretty much in the middle of the slice. But I could tear the pizza around the gross part and still have a pretty good amount of food. So I reach for it and he must have seen my eyes studying the pizza because he hocks another one and it lands on one of the good sides. He starts laughing and then his friends start laughing and they’re staring at me and laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Assholes.

I turn around, about to say, “Fuck my life” again when one of the other guys apologizes and offers me his piece. It’s not as big as the fat guy’s, but it still looks good to my hungry young ass. And I can’t believe I am so hungry that I start to walk back over and take it, but I do. You can probably guess that he does the same thing his leader does and hocks a lugey and spits on his piece, too. My stomach growls with as much anger as I am feeling and I turn around and start walking back towards the boardwalk. It’s going to be a long night.

Their laughing stops and I hear a deep voice talking to them. “Why would you do something like that? What kind of asshole do you have to be to fuck with someone who is obviously hungry?”

As I turn around, I see the fat guy step in front of the other guy, who is six inches taller, and the frat-boy leader guy speaks in this bullshit little sing-song voice: “What business is it of yours, asshole?”

The guy just stands there, hands by his sides, not seeming to be bothered by the fact that there are three of them. Then he laughs. He looks right at the fat-assed guy and laughs.

 

 

About the Author 

Jan has been a professional writer since he 15 and got a job writing for a local paper in the Washington, D.C. area. Since that time, he has travelled the world and enjoyed a myriad of experiences, meeting interesting people and sharing epic experiences. He is currently a full-time professional photographer and completed his first novel, DAMAGED HEARTS, the first book in a series partially inspired by his experiences living and working in Venice Beach, California.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Instagram

 

 

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Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

Book Blast – Body Parts and Mind Games by Jude Tresswell #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Body Parts and Mind Games (County Durham Quad Book 4)

Author: Jude Tresswell

Publisher: Self published 

Release Date: November 4, 2019

Genre/s: Crime, LGBTQ

Trope/s: Sexual/asexual relationship; polyamorous relationship

Themes: Navigating ace/non-ace relationship; loyalty

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 60 000 words/ 228 pages

It can be read alone, although it is 4th in the County Durham Quad series. Background information is provided for new readers.

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A crime to solve, a lover to save, and an ace-happy ending?

Blurb 

Organ trafficking, types of attraction and far-right nationalism are ingredients in this tale about Mike, Ross, Raith and Phil, a gay polyamorous quad who live in North-East England.

Phil is a surgeon in Warbridge Hospital. A patient’s organs are harvested illegally. Are Phil’s colleagues involved?

Detective Nick Seabrooke returns to Warbridge to ask Phil to aid the investigation. Agreeing endangers the quad in more ways than one. How will Nick, who is asexual, react to meeting the quad again? How will they react to him?

This is the fourth story in the County Durham Quad series. Background information is included for new readers. 

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

 

Excerpt 

From Chapter 2

“I hoped I’d never see him again.” Words that were being echoed three hundred miles away in London. Nick Seabrooke stood at the window of his flat and stared across rooftops to the dome of St Paul’s. He re-read Phil’s message. It was terse and to the point: Considered what you said. Will do it. Feel free to set a meeting up. Was it the answer he’d wanted? Yes, from one point of view. No, definitely not, from another. 

He’d hardly believed what he’d heard the previous Monday. Nick was a detective with the NCA, the agency responsible for criminal investigations that went beyond national borders. Money-laundering involving forgery was his normal remit. He’d met the quad when Raith had been chief suspect in a case and he had been a sergeant. Now he was an inspector. So, he’d answered the chief superintendent’s call, expecting to be briefed about a fraud or a forgery. Instead, he was told about organ trafficking. But although trade in body parts was a crime that cut across borders, it seemed well outside his area of expertise. He’d tried to tell the chief so. Yes, the chief knew that, but whoever had requested Nick’s involvement knew that he had liaised, successfully, with Tees, Tyne and Wear Constabulary the year before and, more importantly, knew that he’d worked closely with a surgeon at the hospital at the centre of the enquiry.

“This doctor, Philip Roberts,” the chief had said, “would he be involved in something like this?”

“I very much doubt it, sir,” Nick had answered promptly. “I think he’d feel that it was beneath his ability and beneath his dignity. He’s totally focused on his own niche. He developed this graphene-based colorectal repair procedure almost single-handedly. He pioneered the research. He carries out most of the ops. I can’t see him whipping out a kidney or cornea when no one’s looking. And he’s conscientious. The ethics would bother him.”

“Money?”

“More than he needs and, I’d say, not particularly materialistic.”

“Then contact him,” he’d been told. “See if he’ll work with you on this. We need a medic inside that hospital. Eyes and ears and a way for you to get in and use yours. You stayed at his house, didn’t you, when you were up there last year?”

“No, sir. I stayed with one of the artisans. In Tunhead though. All the houses are owned by Roberts and the men he lives with. They rent them out to arts and crafts personnel. They call the venture BOTWAC—the Beck on the Wear Arts Centre.”

“BOTWAC?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting sense of humour. Well, see if you can stay there again. It’ll give you some safe opportunities to talk with this doctor without being overheard, and he can teach you all you need to know about proctology.”

Nick knew the meaning of ‘proctology’, but he was focusing on ‘safe’. Safe for whom? The chief misinterpreted his concerned look and his silence, and began to explain proctology.

“Yes, I know, sir,” he said, interrupting, and then he’d been politely dismissed, and tomorrow he’d have to phone Phil. Shit! 

So that was what he’d done—phoned Phil, and now he had Phil’s answer. 

He closed Messages and, almost reluctantly, opened Gallery. Should he scroll to it—the photo that he’d taken in Raith’s studio that last time he had met the quad? The photo of a portrait of Mike. He hadn’t looked at it for months. …………

…………..  Mike had fascinated him, but he realised that he’d rarely even thought of County Durham, or Tunhead—or Mike—for weeks. He was over his crush or whatever it was. So it hadn’t been love. Couldn’t have been love. So, really, he should be able to bin the photo. It shouldn’t be a problem, should it? There was no good reason to keep it, was there? But, although he could resist opening the file, he couldn’t bring himself to press Delete. Couldn’t bring himself to execute that oh-so-final break-with-everything action. So, what did his reluctance, his cowardice, mean? Well, soon he’d have more than a photo in front of him. He’d have flesh and blood. It wouldn’t be so easy to avoid looking at the real thing. He wouldn’t be able to press a key and—abracadabra—delete Mike.

He was probably needlessly worrying. Professional concerns would dominate and there wouldn’t be time to give ex-inspector Michael Angells more than a quick hello and a passing thought. And, being the sensible man that he was, Nick picked up the folder marked Warbridge and re-read the chief’s background information.

 

About the Author 

I’m married, I’ve grown-up children, I’m asexual (although a different sort of ace from Nick) and I do enjoy writing stories that aren’t constrained by hetero-norms.

The plots are always stimulated by something on the news – in this instance, reading that, in 2020, organ donation will become the default position where I live and, also, reading that enforced organ harvesting is carried out in some countries. I enjoy writing funny dialogue as well as dealing with serious issues, though, and I hope that some of the quad’s interchanges will make readers smile. And regarding the extract, I didn’t know the meaning of ‘proctology’ when I saw the word in a review of Book 3! (The term ‘colorectal’ is more common in the UK.) I couldn’t resist including a reference to it.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Amazon Author Page for all works

YouTube link to audio version of the short asexual/ sexual story Scar Ghyll Levels – available on Amazon Kindle.

(Audio version contains 200 photos of scenery)

https://youtu.be/M6xSuQ9utWg

 

 

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

 

 

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New Release – Magic & Mirrors by L.M. Brown #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Magic & Mirrors

Author: L.M. Brown

Publisher: Self-Published 

Cover Artist: Studioenp

Release Date:  November 2, 2019

Genre/s: Fairy Tale / Fantasy M/M Romance

Trope/s: Class differences

Themes: Fairy Tale Ending, redemption

Heat Rating: 3 flames      

Length: 22 461 words/67 pages

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited 

Universal Amazon Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

Only the assassin sent to kill him can free him from the mirror.

Blurb

When King Lucius is imprisoned in a magic mirror by an evil wizard, he is forced to watch as his life is destroyed and his kingdom brought to the brink of ruin. Trapped in his own reflection, he only has the freedom to move and talk when the wizard sleeps.

With his subjects under the dark spell of the wizard, Lucius is forced to rely on the most unlikely of heroes if he hopes to get his life back. 

Harry comes from a long line of assassins and prides himself on being one of the best in the kingdom, but when he is hired to kill King Lucius he discovers that all is not as it seems in the Kingdom of Cinders.

Harry agrees to help Lucius in return for a full pardon for his crimes, but to complete his quest he may have to give up everything, including his freedom and the king he has come to love.

 

Excerpt 

King Lucius sat in the chair in his bedchamber, reading the book he’d started the previous year. He was making slow progress since all the text was a mirror image of the writing he had grown up with. 

On the other side of the barrier, his body slept. The evil wizard who had taken over his life four years ago had finished his dastardly deeds for the day, freeing Lucius to wander through the world of mirrors, instead of being stuck reflecting the actions of the wizard. 

It was a frustrating existence and one he was eager to escape from. 

Unfortunately, he could see no way out of his miserable prison. 

A noise from the bedchamber in the real world tore his attention away from his book, and he set it aside. It wasn’t the wizard who had stirred. That was the one thing he knew for sure. He was always the first to know when the wizard woke to start the day. 

Creeping towards the barrier, Lucius peered out into the darkened room. The only light came from the candle on the bedside table, the counterpart of which Lucius had been using to read by.

A movement near the balcony caught his eye. Someone was stealing into his chambers, and considering they had decided not to enter by the door, he had to assume they had mischief on their agenda. 

Lucius waited in silence, observing the intruder as he stumbled about in the dark. He was lucky the wizard was such a heavy sleeper. Had Lucius been in his own body, the uninvited guest’s bumbling around the bedchamber would have woken him for sure. 

Stifling his amusement and keeping as still as possible, Lucius watched as the intruder tiptoed closer to the bed. He clearly hadn’t spotted the living reflection in the dressing table mirror, but few people did. In the dark hours of the night most people chalked it up to imagination, or having mixed up the portraits and mirrors adorning the walls. 

The flash of metal in the candlelight doused his amusement in an instant. This was no thief. This was an assassin.

“Stop!” Lucius ordered. He tried not to raise his voice too loud, lest the wizard woke.

The assassin ducked and rolled under the bed in a move that Lucius couldn’t help admiring. 

“You can’t stay there all night,” Lucius said. “You might as well come out before he wakes up.”

“Who said that?” the intruder whispered from under the bed.

“I did,” Lucius replied. “Are you going to come out from under there, or are the contents of the chamber pot that interesting?”

“Who are you?” 

Lucius sighed heavily. “I’m King Lucius the fourth, and you won’t be delivering the killing blow to me this night.”

The assassin crawled out from under the bed. He stood up and looked at the sleeping figure. “Are you awake?” he asked.

Lucius rolled his eyes. “Behind you.”

Finally the dagger-wielding idiot turned and saw who had spoken. “What magic is this?” he whispered. 

“The blackest kind,” Lucius replied. “Would you mind going through the door behind you and following the corridor to the left?”

“Why?”

“So we can talk properly without him waking up,” Lucius explained. “You seem to be quite a resourceful chap, and I think maybe you can help me with a little problem I have.”

“What sort of problem?”

Suddenly, voices shouted from outside in the castle grounds. “Intruder! Call out the guards!”

“Dammit,” Lucius swore. 

A grunt and snort from the bed caused the assassin to startle and Lucius sensed the king was about to wake. “Hide in the closet,” he said, pointing to another door. 

The assassin didn’t argue with him this time. He ran for cover, only just sliding the door closed when the wizard sat up, awake.

Lucius, trapped in the mirror, lost control of his body the moment the wizard rose. He was a reflection once more, albeit a conscious one.

 

About the Author 

L.M. Brown is an English writer of gay romances. She believes mermen live in the undiscovered areas of the ocean. She believes life exists on other planets. She believes in fairy tales, magic, and dreams. Most of all, she believes in love.

When L.M. Brown isn’t bribing her fur babies for control of the laptop, she can usually be found with her nose in a book.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook Page  |  Facebook Group

 

 

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

 

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Book Blast – Memoirs of the Human Wraiths Box Set and Omnibus by F.E. Feeley Jr. #KindleUnlimited #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title:  Memoirs of the Human Wraiths Box Set and Omnibus

Author: F.E. Feeley Jr.

Publisher: Beaten Track Publishing

Cover Artist: Debbie McGowan/ Roe Horvat

Genre/s:  Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: Forbidden love or friends to lovers

Themes: Forgiveness

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 3 books/ 698 pages

Add on Goodreads

 

Blurb 

Around a campfire late at night, someone begins to tell a ghost story. Flashlights clutched in hands, we huddle close and listen with intensity, startling at the slightest sound, but we try to be brave.

This is no different.

Memoirs of the Human Wraiths, a book passed down from generation to generation, details the lives of those living on the edges of society, stalked by the darkness that awaits us all. Come see what walks the halls of Timber Manor. Step inside Jonathan’s inescapable mirror. Venture to the island where promises made are enforced by a powerful curse.

Try to be brave.

 

Book Trailer

 

 

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US – Kindle  |  Amazon US Paperback  |   Amazon UK   |  Publisher

 

Excerpt from The Haunting of Timber Manor 

Another flash and my eyes locked on a pair of yellow eyes staring at me from the place where I saw them before. Not a ghost or a killer—a wolf. Standing about twenty feet away, a huge, magnificent wolf was watching me with an oddly disconcerting amount of intelligence in its eyes, head hung low. Its gray-and-white fur was gorgeous and oddly dry-looking. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Instead of fading into the darkness, it began to walk forward into the headlights of my car. The beast never took its eyes off mine. Like it was staring into my soul. My heart began to hammer and my breathing quickly picked up. My hands went back to the steering wheel and clamped down again, as white-knuckled as before. A chill passed through me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight. As if the wolf could sense my distress, it stopped and gave me a wicked grin. “You know I can see you, don’t you?” I whispered aloud. “You know I am afraid.” The wolf, in response, tilted its giant head up toward the rain and gave out a chilling howl as if to confirm that. “Why, yes, I do know, dear boy. What do you think I’m doing here? You wanted to die? Step out of the truck, and I’ll gladly make your dreams come true.”

 

About the Author 

F.E.Feeley Jr is a poet and the author of six published works – four full-length novels, two short stories featured in anthologies, and a poetry book.

Married to the love of his life, John, he came to the writing world about four years ago where he fell in love, again, with the written word.

 

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook Reader’s Group  |

Twitter:  @fefeeleyjr  |  Newsletter Sign-up:  Sign up Via Website

 

 

 

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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Book Blast – The Killing Spell by Shane Ulrrein

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Killing Spell

Author: Shane Ulrrein

Publisher: Deep Hearts YA

Cover Artist: Story Perfect Dreamscape

Genre/s: Fantasy YA M/M Romance

Trope/s: Forbidden love, young romance

Themes: Coming of age, magic, self-discovery, same-sex attraction

Heat Rating:  No sexual content       

Length: 57 000 words/236 pages

It is a standalone book.

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If you’re a huge fan of Harry Potter, if you loved Rainbow Rowell’s Carry On or Ginn Hale’s The Lord of the White Hell, then you MUST read The Killing Spell! An unforgettable tale that takes a magical boarding school and a young adult gay romance to the next level!

Blurb 

The Killing Spell is a new young adult fantasy novel that tells the story of Edward Peach, a fourteen-year-old wizard who gets accepted into a prestigious all-boys boarding school for wizards and falls in love with another boy. Edward and the other boy soon realize their attraction for each other, immediately causing controversy in the academy as the first students from feuding houses to come together, especially in a school where house rivalry can end in murder. Edward’s new relationship puts him to the ultimate test as he must risk being with the boy he loves even at the cost of his own life!

 

Buy Links

Deep Hearts YA  | Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Barnes and Noble

 

Excerpt 

Chapter I
Accepted

Accepted.
That’s what the letter said. At that moment, I felt a sudden chill go up my spine. I pretended to smile as Mum and Dad became so overjoyed that their little wizard was being sent thousands of miles away to study magic at an exclusive boarding school.
I swallowed hard. Please don’t make me go, I thought.
I took another look at my letter. “Highly prestigious,” “well-accredited,” and “very sought-after” were the different qualifiers used to describe their piss of an academy. There were portraits in a brochure, mostly in sepia-tone black and white, of their most famous students, yet I didn’t recognize any of them. The more I looked at all the rubbish they’d sent me in that big yellow envelope, the more I wanted to vomit.
Accepted.
Everything had been arranged: the meeting place in the Aradian port-city of Navona, our guide who was to see us at the harbor three days from now and take us to the school, and three free tickets for the next available ship from England to Aradia. The whole lot, including my school uniform, was all-expenses paid.
Seeking to break the jovial mood that’d taken over my parents at the breakfast table, I told them that I wasn’t going to that school.
“Not going?” Mum asked me wide-eyed. “Why? This is the opportunity of a lifetime! A prestigious school, fancy uniforms, and a better life for all of us! Are you going to sit there and tell us that you don’t want what’s best for your family?”
Yes, I was, I told her. I wasn’t going and that was the end of it.
My parents then began to lecture me, whilst I kept buttering my toast, about how they never had an opportunity like this when they were my age and how I’d be letting down several generations of our wizard-family if I didn’t go. Dad was especially determined because both he and Granddad got rejected from that school numerous times.
Despite my pleas, my constant whinging, and even throwing a teary-eyed wobbly like I used to do when I was a tiny tot, I was going to that ugly academy. Mum said my name, middle name and all, and insisted that I get packed.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” she said. “End of discussion.”
And without another word, I stormed into my room, slamming the door after me, and buried my face into my pillow.
Accepted.
It wasn’t fair! Other kids would be pretty chuffed about going to such a distinguished wizard-school, but not me. This sort of thing should’ve gone to those who needed it or wanted it more. Instead, I was the one who got…accepted.
I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be part of the “next generation of great sorcerers,” nor follow in my father’s or grandfather’s footsteps like other wizards my age. I just wanted to be me. I didn’t want to leave my mates or live away from home. What’s more, I’d be going to a foreign country where I didn’t know anyone, much less the language they speak.
Things were much simpler and I was a lot happier before I got that stupid letter!
Accepted.
I didn’t want to study in some shite academy, the name of which I couldn’t even pronounce from the brochure and where mobile phones were prohibited. All I really want to do is enjoy life, hang out with my friends, and go to the beach to listen to its lush, serene music. Yet more than anything, I wanted to do nothing. That’s what I desired most. I simply wanted to do nothing, yet my parents, on numerous occasions, would never hear of it.
I began thinking about turning Mum and Dad into frogs or making them both disappear, but I really didn’t want to do any of that. Deep down, I don’t believe in using magic to hurt or endanger the lives of others. To me, magic was a beautiful yet mysterious thing that was all about me and always brought happiness to everyone. I loved magic, bloody lived for it, but hated the idea that someone could use it for evil when it could be used for good. Not to mention, the last time I’d made my parents disappear, they simply found their way back afterward.

 

About the Author 

Shane Ulrrein is a life-long storyteller and first-time LGBT author currently living in Orange County, California, USA, who one day dreams of leaving his home in sunny Southern California for the wet, dreary weather of England.


Mr. Ulrrein has a Bachelor of Arts degree in music composition in California State University, Fullerton and is a proud member of the LGBT community. In his spare time, Mr. Ulrrein likes to draw, read, and write music that he hopes someday will be heard in all the great concert halls in the world.

 

Author Links

Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Instagram

 

 

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

 

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Book Blast – The Black Mask by Samuel King

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Black Mask

Author: Samuel King

Publisher: Pride Publishing

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Erotic Romance

Trope/s: Fantasy lover becomes reality, straight or gay?

Themes: Choosing reality over fantasy

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 13 000 words/ 55 pages 

It is a standalone book.

Add on Goodreads

 

 

 Charlie is torn between two men—one who seems unreachable, the other a superhero who steps out of a poster.

Blurb 

Charlie is the young, handsome writer of The Black Mask superhero adventure series. Recently broken up from his long-term boyfriend, he finds himself developing feelings of lust and love for his editor, the gruff, clearly straight Sam. Charlie’s love life takes an even more unexpected twist when his fantasy creation, The Black Mask, somehow becomes a reality—and his lover.

 

Buy Links

Pride Publishing  |  Amazon UK  |  Amazon US

 

Excerpt

 On the wall above the TV is a poster of my creation, The Black Mask. Sam had a limited number designed by a comic book artist friend of his. He’s sold about a hundred so far and I get royalties on each sale. The Black Mask is crouching, ready to pounce, his tight, muscular body encased in black material. He has bulging biceps, thighs and pecs that threaten to burst through the fabric and more than a hint of something else bulging between those thighs. How can Sam deny The Black Mask is at least a bit gay? And did Sam specify how big to make that bulge?

Although his face is completely covered by his mask, I feel like he is watching me, which I find strangely erotic as I unzip the fly of my jeans and begin massaging my erect cock through the cotton of my white briefs. My cock is big, at least eight inches, and uncut. Its purplish-red head is already poking from above the waistband of my briefs, leaking pre-cum onto my flat stomach. I don’t work out much, but I run and eat healthily, so I have a fit, slim body, even if I do say so myself.

I push my jeans and briefs down to below my waist and begin stroking my cock. It’s hot and so solid. I grip it hard, squeezing out more pre-cum, which forms a weblike string between my stomach and cockhead.

I fantasize about Sam standing behind his desk, massaging his dick through his gray trousers. He’s glaring at me like I’ve really pissed him off, like he resents how horny he’s feeling. Suddenly I feel stupid, masturbating over a guy that will never look at me in that way. I should be out trying to meet other gay guys, not lying in my room jerking off over a straight man.

I’m distracted by a movement across the room. I stop masturbating and stare at the poster of The Black Mask. He is no longer crouching. He is standing and that bulge in his black-clad crotch is definitely a huge, hard cock.

“What the—?”

Then he leans forward and his head and shoulders protrude for real out of the poster, solid and three-dimensional. Now the poster is glowing like a TV screen with the brightness level turned up to the max.

“Shit…”

He reaches down with a leather-gloved hand and begins to rub his massive boner through the thin fabric of his skin-tight suit. Incredibly, it grows even bigger, and it, too, is now solid and three-dimensional, bursting from the surface of the poster.

Suddenly my bedroom door flies open and Jules is standing there, still naked.

“Sorry,” he says, “but do you have any lube?”

I release a jet of cum, which spatters across my stomach and chest, drenching my T-shirt and barely missing my face. I look from Jules, who seems impressed as much as embarrassed, back to the poster. The Black Mask is crouching again and the poster is just a poster.

“Wow,” says Jules. “Something certainly got you horny. You should have just joined us.”

I’m so shocked by what has just happened that I don’t even bother trying to cover my cum-soaked body, despite the fact that Jules is still standing in my bedroom doorway waiting for a response to his request. When I glance back at him, I notice he is fully hard and tugging on his balls.

 

About the Author 

Samuel King is London born and bred, and spent his twenties and thirties hanging out on the London gay scene, mixing with some true characters and even finding romance on a few occasions. Now more likely to be found eating in a nice restaurant on a Saturday night than clubbing, he also enjoys reading across many genres, and watching films—especially old horror films and romantic comedies. He is also the author of Male Male erotic romance, Hard Lessons, available from Pride Publishing from 1 October.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter: @samuelk49275059 

 

 

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New Release – Last Call in Wonderland by Rob Browatzke #KindleUnlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Last Call in Wonderland

Author: Rob Browatzke

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Alexandria Corza

Release Date: August 4, 2019

Genre/s: Contemporary gay fiction

Length: 62000 words/330 pages

It is a standalone story.

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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Paperback  |  Amazon UK

 

Last Call Is Coming

Blurb 

Wonderland is the hottest club in River City, but it’s time to close. It’s a different world now, and club owner Chester doesn’t see Wonderland having a place in it. What will that mean for resident bartender and hotty bottom Brandon Sweet? Or for headliner, the Queen of Hearts? Or customers like Jesse and Colton, whose open relationship and threeways are the stuff of legend? This group of friends navigate the changes in their lives until one night when everything changes for good.

 

 Excerpt 

Jesse Sterling liked dick.

There was no denying that. If there was a twelve-step program, he’d be standing there saying, “My name is Jesse Sterling and I’m a cockaholic,” and he would have been saying it proudly.

Jesse sucked his first dick at thirteen, and he was hooked. All those after school specials about drug dealers who gave new customers that first hit for free? That was Jesse with dick. He was hooked from the first time a guy’s hard dick touched his lips.

He liked all dick: big ones, small ones, cut ones, uncut, curved, straight. He even liked soft ones because he knew they wouldn’t stay that way for long. Not around him.

Through his teenage years, he got his hands (and mouth, and ass) on as much dick as possible. He got them out, got them hard, and got them off. Nothing made him as happy as discovering a new dick and what made them cum. Every dick was unique in how they liked to be stroked or sucked or ridden, but one thing they all had in common…. they were all beautiful.

Well, not all, he sometimes reminded himself. There’d been one that was just…just not good. That had been long ago though, and there’d been dozens of dicks since to wash the taste out of his mouth. Literally.

And then he had met Colton.

Colton Wainford was perhaps the only other man on earth who loved dick as much as Jesse. And Colton’s dick? Perfection. Perfect length. Perfect girth. Perfect rigidity. Simply, perfect.

That they had found each other, that of all the gay bars in all the world, they had walked into the same one on the same night, and paused to take in each other’s sculpted bodies before stumbling and tumbling into a bathroom stall to appreciate each other’s dicks, that was also pretty perfect.

That bar had been Wonderland, nearly a decade earlier, and that’s why, when Brandon texted with the news of pending closure, Jesse had thrown his phone onto the couch, and exclaimed loudly. “Fuck! That sucks dick!”

“What does? Who does?” Colton called from the bedroom. “And do I get some too?”

 

 

About the Author 

Rob Browatzke has been writing for as long as he can remember, and is pretty darn excited for someone else to be reading his stuff finally! When it comes to gay bars and booze and drugs and drama, he knows what he’s talking about. He came out in the mid-90s, and liquor and drama went hand in hand. He has 20+ years of experience working in gay clubs in Edmonton, Alberta, and his current Wonderlounge is every bit as amazing as Alex’s Wonderland. Rob is now 8+ years clean and sober, although there’s still a bit of drama once in a while, for old times’ sake. 

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website

Facebook

Twitter: @robbrowatzke

Instagram: robbrowatzke 

 

 

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New Release – The Artist’s Boxer by Este Holland #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Artist’s Boxer

Author: Este Holland

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Este Holland

Release Date: July 11, 2019

Genre/s: LGBT Action, Gay Romance

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 47,000 words         

It is a standalone story and the first in a series.

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Universal Amazon Link 

Amazon US

Amazon UK

 

 

Blurb

Winning the welterweight championship was everything Rake had worked for. Now it’s all come crashing down, and he has no choice but to flee his hometown of Las Vegas.

When he stops in a small town in Utah, Rake meets a man who makes him forget all about the danger he’s in.

Rio has a good life. He loves his family and career, but when Rake blows into town, something stirs in his blood. 

Something like desire. 

Rio doesn’t do relationships, not since the last disaster, but Rake makes it impossible for him to say no. 

When Rake comes clean about what he’s running from, Rio just might have a way to help.

Now the two of them must fight to free Rake from the man who took everything…and stay alive until the end.

 

The Artist’s Boxer is the first book in the Yours to Protect series.

 

Excerpt 

Reality crashed in as he lay down, and he didn’t like what it brought. He’d run away. Cowardly? Maybe. But what else was he supposed to do? People didn’t say no to Damian Corsetti, and that was exactly what Rake had done.

Now, there he was, in Rio Danvers’s home, his bed, after getting off twice with the man. The man who’d built the bar where he’d sat and laughed with Hunter for years. 

Maybe it would all be okay. Deep inside, where he seldom looked, something told him it would be. He was solid and safe. Untouchable. But was that arrogance?

What had that figure in the road said? Love came in many forms, accept help…or something like that. Well, he sure as hell was. Rio had taken him in, fed him, kissed him, and invited him into his bed.

Rio came out of the bathroom and slid in next to him.

“Thanks for everything,” Rake said as they got under the covers. Rio wore sleep pants while he remained naked.

“Everything?”

“Bringing me here, feeding me, letting me stay. You don’t know anything about me.”

Rio stared at him until a soft expression came and went in his dark eyes. “You’re welcome.”

He got comfortable, and oh God, the bed was so nice. Rake burrowed deeper.

“About what happened in there,” Rio began.

His heart thudded, and Rake stilled. “What?”

“You kissed me. You know what this means?”

“What?” Rake asked again, his voice going up an octave.

“We have to go on at least two dates before we do anything else.”

Rake sprang up, taking the covers with him. “Are you serious?”

“Very. I told you, I have a rule.”

Rake pursed his lips. “So, if we’re going on a date, that means I can kiss you again.”

He leaned over to do just that, but Rio stopped him. “Not until after the first date.”

“Dude, seriously, what’s with all these rules? Don’t you ever go with the flow?”

“Go with the flow?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You mean like meeting a stranger in town and bringing him to my home?” Rio asked, amused.

“Well…kind of—not really.” Rake scowled. “You know what I mean.”

Rio chuckled and pulled Rake down beside him. “Get some sleep. I’m always up early.”

He snapped off the light, but there was no bedside lamp.

“How did you do that?”

“There’s a button on the side of the bed. There’s one on your side too.”

“Oh, cool.” Rake searched around until he found it and pressed it on and off a few times.

He settled back and got comfortable again. His leg bumped Rio’s, and he threw it over him, hugging a pillow to his chest.

“ ’Nite,” he said around a big yawn.

“Good night.”

He liked not knowing what the hell time it was, or when he had to get up to train in the morning. He lived on a tight schedule Luis and Hunter set for him. When had his life become so rigid? He never had any free time. Even his downtime at Hunter’s bar had to be scheduled in.

“I like kissing you,” he whispered into the dark.

He wasn’t sure if Rio had already fallen asleep, but he didn’t answer

 

About the Author 

Este Holland is a writer and reader of all things romance. She’s also a treasure hunter, a word wizard, a lover, and a fighter. She was born in southern WV, and is a reader and writer. She lives in Virginia now, and works in marketing. Her favorite book is impossible to name. Her favorite movie are Romancing the Stone and Some Like it Hot. She began writing her first novel in 2012 and has practiced and studied ever since to get better. She’s still learning.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website

Facebook

Instagram: @este.holland.writer 

Pinterest

 

 

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Book Blast – Complementary Colors by Adrienne Wilder #giveaway #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Complementary Colors

Author: Adrienne Wilder

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Adrienne Wilder

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: From different worlds

Themes: mental illness, PTSD, HEA

Heat Rating:  5 flames

Length: 362 pages

It is a standalone story.

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

 

Blurb

My sister Julia manipulated my life into a prison to keep me silent about our dirty family secret. Her greed made me a slave and circumstance left me with no way to escape.

Trapped, the only way I could silence the nightmares driving me to insanity was to wrap them in color, hold them with shadow, and stitch them to negative space with line.

But no matter how bright the pigments, no one could see my confession.

Except for Roy Callahan.

I thought he was just another nameless one-night stand in a long line of many.

But I was wrong. Roy could see past the façade of my life and through the veil color over the canvas. He could see what the world couldn’t.

And with him I’d find the courage to tell the truth about the boy.

The boy who kissed me.

The boy who loved me.

The boy whose name I couldn’t remember.

 

Excerpt

Chapter One

I knew he didn’t belong the moment I saw him.

He wasn’t cut by money or shaped by political interests, and the rental he wore was a bad joke in the ocean of Versace suits and Chanel ball gowns, fitting him tight across the shoulders and short in the arms. A belt held up his pants, and the waves of extra fabric did nothing to accentuate the ass I knew was just as perfect as the rest of him.

I drank my champagne while the stranger picked his way through the clumps of people gathered in front of the hideous paintings I had on display.

“Paris, darling, Mr. Darcy was asking you about one of your works.” Julia put her hand on my arm. I ignored my sister and Mr. Darcy. Whatever it was he wanted to say to me, I’d heard it before; Mind-blowing, so unique, see the passion, the fire, and my favorite, it speaks to me.

Bullshit.

Only one person could see the dirty secret hidden within the lines, the color, the violence.

Me.

I handed Julia my empty glass.

She tightened her grip on my arm. “These people came a long way to meet you.”

They always came a long way to meet me. Even if it was a block away.

“Bathroom,” I said. Julia frowned. I think she knew I was lying but didn’t want to call me out on it in front of her friends. I peeled away her fingers. “If you don’t mind, of course.” I slipped into the crowd.

Julia would give Mr. Darcy and his flavor-of-the-year wife some excuse on my behalf. Then she’d slay them with her silver tongue, and by the end of the night, they’d write a check for some ungodly amount and buy a piece of hell I’d spewed out into the world.

They’d hang it in their country home or put it in their yacht. They’d smile and laugh and remain deaf to the confession screaming to be told.

Heat from the track lighting pressed down on my shoulders. Greetings cast out by guests floated in shades of black and gray.

I followed the stranger’s trail of color all the way to the back of the gallery. He disappeared around a partition and through a door. I checked to see if anyone was watching before I went in.

Cold fluorescents replaced track lighting, and the hum of the ventilation system snuffed out a burst of laughter. There were only two doors in the maintenance hall, besides the one that shut behind me.

A deep mechanical sound chugged from behind the one left open. I slipped inside and turned the knob so I could control the catch.

The man crouched beside an opening in one of the large metal units. Even on his knees, I could tell he was about my height, but his shoulders were wide, and his limbs were thick.

I hoped that trait didn’t stop at his legs and arms.

After a few minutes, he seemed satisfied and replaced the panel. When he stood, I had a brief glimpse of the curve of his ass when his slacks tightened.

He turned and dropped the tools he held. His hip hit the metal hull of the unit, and it boomed.

“Jesus Christ. You scared the shit out of me.”

A five o’clock shadow dusted his jaw, hardening his features enough to make him look dangerous. And there was already no doubt left in my mind that he could kill me if he wanted to.

He wiped his hands with a rag from his pocket. Scars crossed the knuckles of his callused fingers. The thought of his rough grip on my body left me hard.

“I replaced the coil.” The sound of his voice wrapped me in red and tied me up with gold. “That should relieve some of the strain on the unit. It’s pretty old, though.” He put his tools into a toolbox. “You might want to consider replacing it.”

I engaged the lock on the door.

He followed me with his eyes as I made a half circle around him. His physical appearance didn’t make him alluring. It was how he carried himself. Like a man who was one with the world and not above it. I grazed a look up and down his body.

“I’ll send you a bill.” He reached for his toolbox.

I got in the way, trapping him against the air-conditioning unit.

“Is there something else you ne—” He cleared his throat. “Need?”

“Are you afraid of me?”

He pulled himself to his full height. “Do I have a reason to be?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On how much the idea of fucking me appeals to you.”

 

About the Author

I am a writer of contemporary and speculative fiction and artist of all things monster. I live to create new worlds and the people in them. Several of my books have been best sellers both nationally and internationally. I have also been a finalist in the LAMDA awards, the “Oscars” of gay literary works.

I do my best to write original stories with powerful characters and emotion as well as a fast-paced plot. My goal isn’t just to deliver a good story but to take the reader into the story and let them experience the characters as if they are right there with them.

While almost all my books have a romantic element, I will be the first to admit, they are not traditional romance. In fact, I’d like to think there is nothing traditional about them. And the stories I paint are done so way outside the lines of traditional genres.

One of my favorite things to do as a writer is push the boundaries of what makes a story and to deliver the unexpected and maybe even change the perspective of the reader.

My characters are more often than not, beautifully flawed, not always the good guy, and make mistakes. Their stories will take dark turns which, in the end, make the light at the end of the tunnel all the brighter.

If you’re looking for something different, exciting, and unique, my books are for you.

Check out my website for updates and how to contact me. I love hearing from fans.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  | Facebook  |  Facebook group  | Twitter

Newsletter Sign-up  |  Patreon  |  Goodreads 

 

 

Giveaway

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