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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

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

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.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Twitter

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

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

 

 

Cover Reveal – Spellbound Dreams (D’Vaire, Book 21) by Jessamyn Kingley

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Spellbound Dreams (D’Vaire, Book 21)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: January 28, 2021

Genre: MM Fantasy

Trope: Fated mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating:  3 flames 

Length:  82 139 words

 

Lured into a magical sleep, they must untangle the surrounding chaos to embrace a future together.

 

Blurb

Grand Warlock Familiar Renny D’Vaire has a life he adores and is hoping for a mate who will not bring strife into his world. Renny, along with the rest of the D’Vaires, believes that his other half will be a dragon shifter, thanks to his magical beast form. Happy couples surround Renny, and he wants nothing more than to experience that joy for himself. However, Fate is full of surprises.

Protector Roriethiel of the Fae wakes up in an unfamiliar desert, uncertain how he arrived. His ample magic sapped, the rock he finds himself on is nothing like home. For weeks he stumbles along, searching for answers, and is unerringly led to the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. Rorie’s single purpose is to return to his castle, but instead he discovers his other half.

Renny is unsure how to handle the impetuous Rorie or the fairy’s desire to return to his realm. Torn between two worlds, Renny and Rorie find little common ground until they are lured into a magical dream. Chaos surrounds them as they unravel the mystery of what happened to Rorie, and although their attraction is intense and their feelings for each other grow swiftly, to succeed in love they must learn to trust that Fate has not led them astray.

 

 Excerpt 

The door behind Rorie opened, and his smile bloomed as the stunning warlock familiar he’d been blessed with ventured outside. They had tremendous issues, but Renny was so handsome and intelligent, Rorie could not be sad to know him.

“Are you overwhelmed?” Renny asked, his deep blue eyes full of concern.

“In the best way. Your family is large and beautiful. I always wished for such.”

“I hope you know that you’re a part of it now too.”

“I have felt such warmth from everyone. They strive not to make either myself or Drekkoril outsiders.” They stared at each other for several minutes, and neither of them could do anything about the weird distance that sat between them like a large boulder. Rorie wove a bit of magic between his hands and smiled as his vision was created. “I wanted to give you a wand for your collection.”

Renny lifted a hand, then pulled it back. “I’m almost afraid to touch it,” he whispered reverently. “You recreated Orlami and Zurenzi perfectly.”

“There is a surprise. Go on and place a finger upon Orlami’s or Zurenzi’s head.”

With a grin, Renny did as he was asked. His charming laugh filtered out as both dragons, wrapped sinuously around each other, opened their mouths to breathe fire. “You’ve outdone every other wand I own with this. Are you sure you want me to have it?”

“I have been thinking on it for days now to create one that was worthy of the collection already in your room. If you do not take it, I will shatter it,” Rorie answered with a shrug, holding it out. The wand had no value to Rorie without Renny accepting it. 

“Okay, don’t do that,” Renny begged, taking the object from Rorie’s grasp. “I can’t believe how incredible this is, thank you. Why did you make their fire pink and purple? I’ve only seen them use fire in oranges and yellows.”

“It reminded me of my homeland. The sky ranges between those two colors.”

“It must be beautiful.”

“It is.”

“I hope I’m able to visit someday,” Renny answered softly. “I should go put this inside. Are you coming back in? Noirin and Kendrick are putting together a crostini bar.”

“Give me another moment to enjoy the night air and yes, I will join you for whatever a crostini is.”

“There are going to be different wines, too. We’re even going to let the wolves and baby dragons have some.”

“The entire family will enjoy this?”

“Absolutely,” Renny said. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Yes, I promise not to dally.”

When Renny disappeared into the house, Rorie rubbed a finger across the stone on his hand and the two dragons emerged from the privacy of the now single tent that was their private home outside their lagoon. “How it makes my heart happy to watch you together,” he told Orlami and Zurenzi, meeting them halfway in the yard. Both Faedrekan licked his face, and Rorie delighted in their exuberance. Like him, they led with their emotions. “Friends, I need your help. I wish for a siramen v’airsell nioll but fear Renny and I will never arrive at such an auspicious day. He cannot understand my desire to return, and I fail to comprehend why I can remember nothing of how I came to be here.”

 

About the Author 

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

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

Visit her website 

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook |   Twitter  |   Pinterest  |  Facebook Group

 

 

 

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

New Release – Young King Arthur and the Round Table Knights by Siryn Sueng

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Young King Arthur and the Round Table Knights

Author: Siryn Sueng

Publisher: Deep Hearts YA

Cover Artist: Ave

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

This is book 1 of a planned series.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

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

I tried not to look too out of place or inconspicuous. Even so, the people who came by us sent me strange looks, and when they noted the Holy Sword in my grip, there were many reactions. Shock was the most prominent. It made my face hot with embarrassment and my heart clench tightly.

“Here we are, Your Majesty.”

I stumbled as Merlin addressed me. Your Majesty…I will never get used to that, I thought sourly.

I looked up from where I’d glued my eyes to the floor. The door that stood before us was ornate and decorated with the same dragon that adorned the castle gates. Merlin opened it.

My mouth fell open at what I saw. “I’m staying in this room?” I could barely get my voice to come out as I took in the elaborate bedroom before me. A large fireplace took up most of the right wall. A giant bed took up the left side. There was a wash basin that looked as if it were made of pure gold, two dressers, a desk, and a giant wardrobe. Beyond the bed, the room stretched farther and there in the secluded area was a giant tub with dragon heads as the feet. Directly across from me, the stonework opened to an elegant archway leading to a balcony.

The room was decorated with reds and golds, and purple too. The bed had all three colors, but in a very tasteful design. The pillows took up almost half of it and I knew I wasn’t ever going to sleep well in that massive monstrosity.

“Yes. Believe me, you get used to this far quicker than anything else,” Merlin said. “This room is yours, your sanctuary, as it were. Do whatever you like to it. Now, why don’t you wash up, rest. I’ll send the boy as soon as I find one. Should you have need of anything, there will be guards in the hall. Don’t hesitate to ask, Your Majesty.”

I shook my head and turned to face him. I let anger boil forth to cover my insecurities. “No more ‘your majesty’!”

Merlin tilted his head at me, confused at first. Then he gave me the same mischievous look I’d seen at the plaza. “Oh? And what should I call you, then?”

“Arthur. Just, Arthur.”

“Well, you’re not ‘just Arthur’ now. You’re King Arthur and you will be addressed as such. So, if you dislike ‘your majesty’ then my only advice is to get used to it.”

I glared at him. “You’re awful.”

Merlin’s smile didn’t cease. If anything, it grew larger. He gave me a sweeping bow that I was certain was more to mock me than out of actual respect. Then he backed away and closed the door.

I was left alone in the room and the silence was heavy again. I turned from the door and cringed at the gaudy riches sprawled before me.

I squeezed my hands into fists. It was then that I realized I still held the Holy Sword. It weighed heavily in my grip, my shoulder aching as I lifted the blade. It was almost too much for me to hold upright. How could I have forgotten such a weight?

The beautiful silver weapon reflected the sunlight. Orange rays spread into the room from the giant balcony across from me.

This can’t be happening. I chewed on my bottom lip as I examined the weapon. This was a dream, it had to be. There was no other believable explanation. I put the sword on the desk, laying it down gently. I backed away from it and eventually turned to the bed.

I tested the mattress and found it to be just soft enough to beckon to me. Slowly, I crawled up on it and lay flat on my stomach. The cool red doublet felt amazing and I found myself slipping into sleep. It wasn’t long before weariness took me.

And when I wake up, I’ll be at home with Mother…

 

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.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Twitter

 

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

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

New Release – This Dark Mirror: Fantasy M/M Romance (Juxtan Book 4) by Tricia Owens #KindleUnlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title:  This Dark Mirror: Fantasy M/M Romance (Juxtan Book 4)

Author: Tricia Owens

Cover Artist: Tricia Owens

Genre/s: Fantasy m/m romance

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length:  60 000 words

Release Date: April 14, 2020

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

 

Blurb

The mystery of Hadrian ni Agthon unsettles Caled to his core. He fears he will never learn the truth about the young sorcerer’s reasons for betraying him. Though there are an increasing number of hints that Hadrian was a victim of his father, Hadrian himself suggests that every step he took was taken deliberately. When their group is contacted by a sorcerer who not only knows Hadrian but claims to be his friend, Caled is hopeful for a chance to finally separate fact from fiction. Instead, he’s served a greater mystery: Hadrian appears to hate this supposed friend. Caled needs to learn more, but he worries that his quest for knowledge will come at the expense of their safety, for the road ahead looks to be riddled with traps not only physical, but emotional.

 

Excerpt

Hadrian was certain he would go mad with the depth of his lust. He parted his lips and helplessly mouthed Caled’s shoulder as his own hips pushed forward against the mercenary’s backside. He wanted Caled’s bare flesh in his naked palm. He wanted to hold that velvety heat and stroke it. He wanted to taste it. Oh, gods, he wanted it inside him.

“Please,” he groaned. 

“Easy,” Caled murmured, though his voice sounded deeper. “This is enough, Hades. This is more than I should.”

Hadrian didn’t want him thinking about that. Caled was finally giving in. Caled was finally giving him what they both wanted and Hadrian wasn’t about to let the other man change his mind when Hadrian had waited so very long for this.

They were at the back of their line, the others riding ahead, so Hadrian squeezed his thighs together and lifted himself high enough to put his lips on the sun-warmed skin of Caled’s nape. Caled flinched, but Hadrian persisted, moving his lips over that warm, golden skin and finally touching his tongue to it. The moment his tongue made contact, Caled’s entire body shivered and his hand crushed Hadrian’s against him.

“Hades,” he groaned.

Hadrian shut his eyes and savored the lust riding in waves through his body. Courage which he hadn’t known he possessed fueled his hands and his words. He leaned up and whispered, “What you did to me in that boat was not unwanted.”

Caled’s entire body stiffened. Their horse bobbed its head, sensing the new tension. 

“Damn you, Hades.”

“My body still aches from how you took me. It’s an ache I take into my dreams.”

“We’re not doing this,” Caled panted, sounding almost angry as he continued to thrust into Hadrian’s hands. “Not here. Not now.”

“You have become my master in torture,” Hadrian ground out. “Grant me relief.”

“I would master you in many ways.” Caled shook his head. “But it’s not that easy. Not—for me.”

 

 

About the Author 

Tricia Owens has been writing m/m fiction since 2000, after stumbling onto the term ‘slash’ and thinking it referred to horror stories. She is the author of the Sin City, A Pirate’s Life for Me, and Juxtapose City series, among several others. She lives in Las Vegas.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |   Twitter  |   Patreon  

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts here

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

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

New Release – The Lowest Realm by Amy-Alex Campbell

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Lowest Realm

Author: Amy-Alex Campbell

Publisher: AAC Publishing 

Cover Artist: Warren Design 

Release Date: November 9, 2019

Genre/s:  Crossover fantasy, with a dash of MM romance

Trope/s:  Forbidden love / quest to fulfill the great prophecy

Heat Rating: 3  flames

Length: 103 831 words/368 pages

It is a standalone story, although there will be more books.

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon  US  | Amazon UK  | Amazon AU 

 

Paperback also available from:

 Buy directly from the author’s website

 There is a Paypal button there that includes book price + shipping.

Angus & Robertson

 

Blurb

Life on an offshore oil rig is grueling hard work. For Nika the hard work, isolation and discipline is ideal.

On the eve of flying back to the mainland for a two week break, disaster strikes, and Nika is thrown into darkness.

When he awakes in a strange world, with no memory of his past, he finds himself in the presence of monks, who offer to help, on one condition. Nika must deliver an urgent message to the king, and in return, the mysterious monks will help him recall his memories and find a way home.

Instead, Nika is sent on a long journey with his new friend Freyne, and the spoilt Princess Iryna, to fulfill a prophecy that will restore balance to the world.

Nika must adjust to more than just a new world; as his body undergoes a transformation he does not understand, he must also deal with being hunted, forbidden love, mancery, and gods he’s never heard of.

 

 

Excerpt 

The sound of a gunshot pierced the night, followed by a loud scream. Nika cowered in the linen closet, trying not to make any noise. He could see shadows flickering in the light under the door, and could hear yelling.

“I’m asking you one last time, Monique. Where’s our money, bitch?” Someone demanded, and Nika heard a loud slap and a hiss.

“I told you, we don’t get paid until tomorrow,” Nika’s mother spat back.

“We’re going to need some collateral,” A man said angrily. “Let’s get her kid.”

“Nickolai!” She screeched, but Nika didn’t move.

He heard some heavy footsteps rush past the closet, followed by the sound of his bedroom door being forced open. He opened the closet door a crack, and could see the bad men in his bedroom, looking for him. 

Nika dashed from the closet and ran past his mother as fast as his little legs could carry him. She sat slumped over the coffee table; white powder and needles were scattered amongst empty beer cans. Blood was oozing from the bullet wound in her shoulder.

Nika could hear the bad men shouting behind him. He pulled open the kitchen door and ran into the darkness, and found a place to hide.

There was more yelling, then the house went quiet. Nika watched as the bad men ran from the house, climbed into a car and sped off down the street. Thick black smoke started billowing from the house, and he felt the panic rising from his belly and into his chest. He didn’t know what to do, he felt like he was going to cry.

Nika heard the shatter of glass, and looked to see flames erupting from his bedroom window. He watched with dismay; although he had very few toys and possessions, they were all he had.

His eyes swept back to the door, as his mother staggered from the burning house and into the driveway. Nika took another nervous look around, before leaving his hiding place, and ran back towards her.

She sank to her knees, and Nika watched as she fell to the ground. Her skin was turning blue, and she started convulsing on the ground.

“Mother?” Nika asked, shaking her shoulder gently.

Nika felt sick; she was making gurgling noises, and he didn’t know how to help her. He knew that if his father came home at any time, Nika would be blamed and beaten half to death.

He could hear sirens in the distance, and soon a convoy of emergency vehicles sped up the road, coming to a stop at the burning house. His mother had gone still, and Nika found himself shaking her, but she wouldn’t wake.

 Nika’s seven year old mind couldn’t comprehend what was going on. He felt no love towards his parents; his father constantly beat him, and his mother never made him stop. And yet Nika was afraid to lose them, he didn’t know who would look after him, or where he would go.

A lady in a uniform drew Nika away and wrapped him in a blanket, as firemen started to spray water on the house. He was confused and terrified. He tried not to cry, but the tears fell. The lady put out her arm, and Nika cowered, expecting to be beaten for crying like a girl. 

“Hey, it’s ok little buddy, I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. “Is there anyone else still in the house?”

Nika shook his head, unable to speak. 

“Come on, you can sit in the big ambulance, and I’m going to check that you’re ok. Is that alright with you?”

Nika nodded, and followed the nice ambulance lady. He took one last look at his mother, and could see policemen rolling out blue and white checkered tape around the house. The fire was almost out, and a man in a suit was walking towards her with a camera and toolbox.  

She lay on the ground, not moving. Her limbs had spasmed into unnatural angles, and her face was blue, her eyes wide open with a terrifying expression etched into her gaunt face. Nika felt the image burn into his brain, and knew he would never forget that sight for as long as he lived.

 

About the Author 

Amy-Alex Campbell has been an avid reader and writer from a very young age. At just nine years old, she was writing short stories and poetry at a high standard.

At the age of 17, she began world building and writing Death of Thy World. However, after writing a captivating prologue and first chapter, she felt that the story was going to be like any other novel – hero gets the princess and lives happily ever after.

Amy-Alex is anything but cliche, and shelved the project.

Seventeen years later, in April 2019, she revisited the work after reading a meme on social media that reignited her muse. Amy-Alex picked up the proverbial pen, and started writing. 

On July 20, The Lowest Realm was completed. With new plot lines and title, the book received positive reviews from beta readers.

The Lowest Realm will be launched on November 9, 2019.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter: @AmyAlexCampbell 

 

 

 

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

 

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Series Review Tour 2 – Druid’s Curse by Shea Balik

SERIES REVIEW TOUR PART 2 – DRUID’S CURSE by SHEA BALIK

Ancient Druids, who monitored the Veil for centuries, curse a band of marauding Vikings. Now immortal and shifters, the cursed men must protect today’s Druids from Unseelie minions, allowing them to continue the rituals that protect all of humanity.

Author: Shea Balik

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Harris Channing

Genre/s: MM Fantasy Paranormal Romance

Trope/s: Fated Mates

Themes: Druids, Spells, Shifters, Magic, Fae, Seelie, Unseelie

Overall Heat Rating for the series: 4 flames

PLEASE NOTE: Although each book in this series focuses on a different couple, to best enjoy the overall story arc, these books SHOULD be read in order.

 

FOR BLURBS AND DETAILS OF BOOKS 1 – 5 CHECK OUT THIS POST

 

 

 

BOOK 6

Book Title: Mind Over Matter, Druid’s Curse Book 6 

Release Date: 

Add on Goodreads 

Buy Links

 Amazon US 

Amazon UK 

 

Blurb 

Who would have thought there was something more horrifying than an indoor boy being forced to live in the Amazon? Yet, there was. In fact, the more descriptive word would be mind-numbingly terrifying. That it was brought into his life by a drop dead gorgeous man claiming he was there to protect Wylie, only made everything that much more surreal.

Since the first druid came into their lives, Fritjof prayed he would never meet the druid that was destined to be his fated love. He knew that emotion would always lead to devastation and heartache. He’d seen it, experienced it, when his mother disowned him for not being able to save his father.

But what happens when the Fae goes after someone they both love? Will they be able to find a way to trust in each other? Are some things impossible to overcome or is it Mind Over Matter?

 

BOOK 7

Book Title: Tears of Life, Druid’s Curse Book 7 

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Buy Links

Amazon US 

Amazon UK

 

Blurb 

Mingus had one true love in life, animals. None of them were off the list, although, if he were completely honest, his favorite was his cat, Pretty Baby. He never imagined one day he might have to put someone else first. Not just anyone, but the man who has stolen his heart.

For centuries Oluf has dreamed of finding the one destined to be his. He’d even anticipated the need to woo him by becoming a chef. After all, according to his mother, the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. What he hadn’t expected was that he would come in second to a cat with sharp claws, who seemed to enjoy using people as her personal scratching post.

As Mingus, Oluf, and their friends get closer to Samhain, the Fae will try to stop them using everything at their disposal. It means finding a way to work together, even if it takes shedding a few Tears of Life to do so. But in the end, will the fate of the human world come down to a cat?

 

BOOK 8

Book Title: Mending the Rift, Druid’s Curse Book 8

Release Date: October 31, 2019

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 For all vendors

 

The END is NEAR!

The Fae must be defeated if Brandr and Logan hope to find their happily ever after. Only by working together will have any chance of Mending the Rift and saving humanity.

Blurb

The end would be upon Brandr and his friends soon. The only question, would Brandr be able to find his fated one in time? He feared he was too late when he arrived to find the field empty. Then the Veil opens again and hell rains down upon him as the Unseelie pets attack. But when Brandr was too injured to move, the Druid he was destined to claim as his own flees in terror. Talk about demoralizing.

That did not happen. Not even in some weird fantasy could Logan have imagined that a dead man could come back to life. And he had definitely been dead, since Logan had to put his head back on his body. But when he was faced with the truth, that the man was immortal, Logan has to admit to being…intrigued.

But as Samhain draws closer, the danger around them increases as the Fae converge. The Fae must be defeated if Brandr and Logan hope to find their happily ever after. Only by working together will have any chance of Mending the Rift and saving humanity.

 

 

 

About the Author

Best Selling author of the Cedar Falls Series, Paranormal War Series, and Miracle Series, Shea Balik has always had a vivid imagination with stories running around in her head. Often her stories are taken from observations of other people with her own spin. 

Traveling is one of her favorite ways of fulfilling her passion of people watching. You never know, one day you may spark her imagination for her next book.

Whether at home or traveling she is usually in front of her computer writing or curled up with a good book.

You can stay up to date with everything Shea by following any or all links below:

 

Author Links

Website  |  BookBub  |  Facebook  |  Twitter

Instagram  |  Amazon Author Page  | Bookstrand  |  Smashwords

 

 

 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win:

1st Prize – $25 Amazon Gift Card

2nd Prize- One (1) ecopy of each of The Druid’s Curse Series

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

 

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

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

Series Review Tour – Druid’s Curse by Shea Balik

SERIES REVIEW TOUR –  DRUID’S CURSE by SHEA BALIK

Ancient Druids, who monitored the Veil for centuries, curse a band of marauding Vikings. Now immortal and shifters, the cursed men must protect today’s Druids from Unseelie minions, allowing them to continue the rituals that protect all of humanity.

Author: Shea Balik

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Harris Channing

Genre/s: MM Fantasy Paranormal Romance

Trope/s: Fated Mates

Themes: Druids, Spells, Shifters, Magic, Fae, Seelie, Unseelie

Overall Heat Rating for the series: 4 flames

PLEASE NOTE: Although each book in this series focuses on a different couple, to enjoy the overall story arc, it is recommended you read these in order.

 

 

BOOK 1

Book Title: The End of Darkness, Druid’s Curse 1

Length: 42 460 words

Release Date: April 15, 2019

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 For all vendors

 

Blurb 

Ryley Duggan resented his family for forcing him home on his twenty-first birthday to perform another stupid fire ritual, instead of letting him go out and get shit-faced like normal people his age. He’d never believed in the stories his grandmother told him about the reason behind what they were doing. That was, until he walked outside to the bonfire to see bloodcurdling creatures that no Hollywood studio had ever come close to replicating, killing his family.

Since an early age, Eirik had one job, to protect the descendants of the one who’d cursed him and his friends. It hadn’t been what he’d ever imagined for his life, but after nearly a millennium, Eirik had learned one thing, life never went as planned. Never had that been truer than when he’d rescued Ryley from certain death.

Now the two must learn to work together to save humanity. Will all be lost? Or will they discover a way to heal their hearts by opening themselves up to love?

 

BOOK 2

Book Title: A Flicker of Hope, Druid’s Curse 2

Length: 42 210 words

Release Date: May 29, 2019

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Blurb 

Kegan Tulach already knew that monsters were real. He’d faced them. Watched in horror as they killed those he loved. Then run from them. It was his response for the past two years. But now, on his twenty-first birthday, running wasn’t an option. He had nowhere to go. It was time for him to face his worst nightmare.

There weren’t many people who could do what Bjorn did. Fight monsters and live to tell the tale. It was a job thrust upon him as a kid. If he had known the true hell that would be cursed upon him, he would have preferred to die even though he’d only been fourteen at the time. Now, years later, he had hope that the curse would come to an end. The question was, would he choose the death he’d so desperately craved for more than a millennia, or would he do the one thing he swore he’d never do? Choose love.

If Kegan and Bjorn can find a way past their fears, they may discover something worth living for – each other.

WARNING: This book contains some graphic violence against Unseelie monsters and hot man on man love!

 

BOOK 3

Book Title: A Menacing Tempest, Druid’s Curse 3

Length: 40 760

Release Date: June 14, 2019

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 For all vendors

 

Blurb 

When it came to defense, or offense when needed, Cullen McIntyre thought he was prepared. It wasn’t until he watched as monsters he’d never knew existed walked out of thin air to kill members of his family, twice, that Cullen realized how wrong he’d been. By the third time he’d come face to face with those determined to kill him and the rest of his family for doing their duty, Cullen knew he needed help, and lots of it.

The moment Ulf laid eyes on Cullen, he’d been enthralled by the man’s resolve to protect what was left of his family. Being shot and left for dead by Cullen should have cooled his desire for the fiery man, but it only made him want him more. By the time he caught up to Cullen, Ulf knew, without a doubt, the druid was destined to be his. Now he just needed to convince Cullen of that.

As Cullen and Ulf join their friends to fight the monsters from the realm of the Fae, they find there is a new threat waiting to get through the Veil. A threat they might not be able to defeat. Will Ulf & Cullen get their chance at happily ever after, or will the Fae finally succeed in their quest to destroy the veil?

 

BOOK 4

Book Title: Fatal Frost, Druid’s Curse 4

Length: 41 760

Release Date: August 23, 2019

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For all vendors

 

Blurb 

No way was Arne going to allow fate to chain him to a guy who thought all creatures, even those determined to kill you, were worthy of saving. Arne was a Viking warrior, death was his thing and he was damned good at it.
Dermot Kincaid believed all of God’s creations deserved respect. He was a pacifist at heart, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stand up for himself. Even when that meant getting retribution against the asshole who thought he was better than anyone else.
When Arne and Dermot are attacked, they must find common ground so they can work together to defeat the enemy. If they can’t, they may not just risk losing, but they also risk their hearts developing a Fatal Frost.

 

BOOK 5

Book Title: Beneath the Surface, Druid’s Curse 5

Length: 41 420 words

Release Date: September 7, 2019

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  For all vendors

 

Blurb 

His whole life Hrafn had been ridiculed for his inability to always understand things. He was slower than others when it came to comprehending the world around him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want what everyone else did – love. Yet, he was sure that would never happen for him, for who could ever learn to love someone like him?

With a knock on the door, Teagan’s world had been changed. Unsure how life could be so cruel and take his family from him, Teagan struggled to find meaning in his life. Searching for his ancestry led him to the place where the origins of his family tree began. If he’d known his being there would bring hell upon earth to that small town, he never would have come. Then again, if he hadn’t, he never would have met his fate.

Hrafn and Teagan must find a way to break down the barriers of their past so they can see what is Beneath the Surface if they hope to find their eternal love.

 

 

About the Author

Best Selling author of the Cedar Falls Series, Paranormal War Series, and Miracle Series, Shea Balik has always had a vivid imagination with stories running around in her head. Often her stories are taken from observations of other people with her own spin. 

Traveling is one of her favorite ways of fulfilling her passion of people watching. You never know, one day you may spark her imagination for her next book.

Whether at home or traveling she is usually in front of her computer writing or curled up with a good book.

You can stay up to date with everything Shea by following any or all links below:

 

Author Links

Website  |  BookBub  |  Facebook  |  Twitter

Instagram  |  Amazon Author Page  | Bookstrand  |  Smashwords

 

 

 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win:

1st Prize – $25 Amazon Gift Card 

2nd Prize- One (1) ecopy of each of The Druid’s Curse Series

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

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

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

New Release – Yours, Forever After by Beth Bolden #KindleUnlimited #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Yours, Forever After

Author: Beth Bolden

Cover Artist: Sarah Jo Chreene

Genre/s: MM fairytale/fantasy

Trope/s: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity

Themes: Expectations versus possibilities, good versus evil, subverting expectations

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Word Count: 95 000 words

Add on Goodreads 

 

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link   |  Amazon US   |  Amazon UK

 

 

Blurb 

Fifteen years ago, Prince Graham of Ardglass barely escaped from the ancestral castle with his young life. Rescued by a magical creature and spirited off to a faraway valley, he grew into a strong, capable man—never shirking his duties on the farm, but forever bitter over his father’s betrayal. But just when he has finally come to terms with being lost and staying lost, a visitor arrives in his valley and changes everything.

After a lifetime spent lost in his beloved books, Prince Emory awakens to find his villainous aunt working to usurp the throne of Fontaine. When she sends him on a dangerous quest, he’s certain the journey is a trap, but he’s not willing to accept defeat without a fight.

But a fight is something Rory is unprepared and untrained for, until he’s saved by a handsome, unassuming farmhand and his snooty, smug, and surprisingly talkative unicorn.

 

Excerpt

“Hey, watch yourself,” a voice said, and Rory looked, and then kept looking as a very tall man, shirtless, his face and muscular chest smeared with dirt, rose from the middle of a patch of squash.

Marthe was instantly by his side, sword out of her belt, but the man simply looked at her, expression blank and bored. He spread his empty hands in front of him. “If you’re hungry,” he said, “take what you like. If you are lost, you may stay.”

The man’s hair was long and dark, nearly shaggy, but did not obscure the bright blue eyes that gazed out at him. A bead of sweat trickled down his bare and undeniably dirty pectoral muscle. Rory swallowed hard. He had never met anyone like this man before—someone rough and uncouth and utterly, completely compelling. Rory felt his blood sizzle, like a drop of water on a stove that had been stoked with firewood all day. He stared, mesmerized, by the man. Was he a bandit? He certainly did not seem like one, if his offer of food and shelter was any indication.

“Sir,” Rory said, trying to find his voice under Marthe’s accusing stare, “we are in search of some dangerous criminals who have been looting the supply wagons from Fontaine.”

The man gave him a disbelieving look. “Does it look like we’re harboring bandits here?”

Truthfully, it did not. It looked to Rory that all the man was harboring was an excellent crop of vegetables. As well as a physique that made Rory desperate to reach out and place a palm on that firm chest, even though it was smeared with dirt and sweat. Somehow, that made it even more attractive, though Rory did not think that thought could possibly be logical.

But Marthe was clearly not as distracted by such a fine chest as Rory was. Her glare was still fierce. “You will not mind if I do not take your word for it,” she said. “I would like to search the grounds and buildings of your farm.”

The man threw his head back and laughed. Rory did not know what was so amusing, but he discovered that he was desperate to know.

“There is nothing here but my farming implements, the animals I keep here, and the store of food to last us through the winter,” he admitted. “But feel free to search all you like.”

“Do you have any weapons here?” Marthe asked, her hard voice making it clear she did not believe the act. If it was even an act. Rory was strangely inclined to believe his words, but that might have been because of his beautiful eyes.

“A dagger or two,” the man said, leaning against his shovel. “We have no need of weapons here.”

Marthe sniffed. “We will be the judge of that.” After throwing Rory another reprimanding look, she marched away, clearly intending to find the rest of the guard and do a thorough search of the farm. Rory thought she must not have thought the man was a threat, or else she never would’ve left him alone.

The man stared at Rory, who stared back. “Do you always travel with a full complement of lady warriors?” he asked offhandedly.

Rory blushed. It was impossible to admit to this man, who looked eminently capable of dispatching any threat, weapons or no, that Rory had to, because he could not defend himself. “It was very rude of me not to introduce myself,” Rory said, extending a hand, “I am Prince Emory of the kingdom of Fontaine, but you may call me Rory.”

It was as if his words changed everything. The man’s eyes went blank, his face cold and hard, and he turned away, leaving Rory awkwardly standing with his hand out. “Gray,” he said shortly. “Welcome to the valley.”

One of the reasons Rory had always loved reading was that he felt an inescapable compulsion to know things. His curiosity was legendary, and faced with a man such as Gray, couldn’t have been more engaged even if he’d tried.

“How long have you lived here?” Rory asked, as Gray returned to his squash, carefully digging around a plant. “How did you come to be here? I have never seen this valley on a map before.”

Gray did not bother to meet his eyes as he responded, his tone short and hard. “I have been here many years. It’s a haven for those who are lost, a magical place not found on any maps.”

It did not make any sense at all for Sabrina to believe that the bandits stealing their supplies would hide in a magical valley for the lost. They might have little in the way of a moral compass, but they could hardly be lost.

“Are you lost then?” Rory asked.

Gray looked up then, eyes boring into Rory’s own. He said nothing for a long moment. “Aren’t we all lost?” he asked.

 

About the Author 

A lifelong Oregonian, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband and their sweet kitten, Earl Grey. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to start a chapter of Keeping Durham Weird.

Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published thirteen novels and five short stories. Yours, Forever After is her first fantasy/fairytale re-telling.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website

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Twitter

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Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card.

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Blog Tour – The Hierophant’s Daughter by M. F. Sullivan

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: The Hierophant’s Daughter (The Disgraced Martyr Trilogy)

Author: M. F. Sullivan

Publisher: Painted Blind Publishing

Cover Artist: Nuno Moreira

Genre/s: LGBTQ Cyberpunk/Horror, Sci-fi/Fantasy (Adult)

Heat Rating: 1 flame (A romantic relationship between the couple but no intimate scenes or sexual situations are described in the book. The book fades-to-black before any love scene).

Length:  approx. 100k words/ 298 paperback pages

It is Book I of The Disgraced Martyr Trilogy

Release Date: May 19, 2019

Add on Goodreads

Dive into the first volume of a bleak cyberpunk tahgmahr you can’t afford to miss. What would you sacrifice to survive?

 

Blurb

By 4042 CE, the Hierophant and his Church have risen to political dominance with his cannibalistic army of genetically modified humans: martyrs. In an era when mankind’s intergenerational cold wars against their long-lived predators seem close to running hot, the Holy Family is poised on the verge of complete planetary control. It will take a miracle to save humanity from extinction.

It will also take a miracle to resurrect the wife of 331-year-old General Dominia di Mephitoli, who defects during martyr year 1997 AL in search of Lazarus, the one man rumored to bring life to the dead. With the Hierophant’s Project Black Sun looming over her head, she has little choice but to believe this Lazarus is really all her new friends say he is–assuming he exists at all–and that these companions of hers are really able to help her. From the foulmouthed Japanese prostitute with a few secrets of her own to the outright sapient dog who seems to judge every move, they don’t inspire a lot of confidence, but the General has to take the help she can get.

After all, Dominia is no ordinary martyr. She is THE HIEROPHANT’S DAUGHTER, and her Father won’t let her switch sides without a fight. Not when she still has so much to learn.

The dystopic first entry of an epic cyberpunk trilogy, THE HIEROPHANT’S DAUGHTER is a horror/sci-fi adventure sure to delight and inspire adult readers of all stripes.

 

Buy Links 

Amazon US 

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

 

Excerpt

The Flight of the Governess

The Disgraced Governess of the United Front was blind in her right eye. Was that blood in the left, or was it damaged, too? The crash ringing in her ears kept her from thinking straight. Of course her left eye still worked: it worked well enough to prevent her from careening into the trees through which she plunged. Yet, for the tinted flecks of reality sometimes twinkling between crimson streaks, she could only imagine her total blindness with existential horror. Would the protein heal the damage? How severely was her left eye wounded? What about the one she knew to be blind—was it salvageable? Ichigawa could check, if she ever made it to the shore.

She couldn’t afford to think that way. It was a matter of “when,” not of “if.” She would never succumb. Neither could car accident, nor baying hounds, nor the Hierophant himself keep her from her goal. She had fourteen miles to the ship that would whisk her across the Pacific and deliver her to the relative safety of the Risen Sun. Then the Lazarene ceremony would be less than a week away. Cassandra’s diamond beat against her heart to pump it into double time, and with each double beat, she thought of her wife (smiling, laughing, weeping when she thought herself alone) and ran faster. A lucky thing the Governess wasn’t human! Though, had she remained human, she’d have died three centuries ago in some ghetto if she’d lived past twenty without becoming supper. Might have been the easier fate, or so she lamented each time her mind replayed the crash of the passenger-laden tanque at fifth gear against the side of their small car. How much she might have avoided!

Of course—then she never would have known Cassandra. That made all this a reasonable trade. Cold rain softened the black earth to the greedy consistency of clay, but her body served where her eyes failed. The darkness was normally no trouble, but now she squinted while she ran and, under sway of a dangerous adrenaline high, was side-swiped by more than one twisting branch. The old road that was her immediate goal, Highway 128, would lead her to the coast of her favorite Jurisdiction, but she now had to rediscover that golden path after the crash’s diversion. In an effort to evade her pursuers, she had torn into a pear orchard without thought of their canine companions. Not that the soldiers of the Americas kept companions like Europa’s nobles. These dogs were tools. Well-honed, organic death machines with a cultivated taste for living flesh, whether martyr or human. The dogs understood something that most had forgotten: the difference between the two was untenable. Martyrs could tell themselves they were superior for an eternity, but it wouldn’t change the fact that the so-called master race and the humans they consumed were the same species.

That was not why Cassandra had died, but it hadn’t contributed to their marital bliss. And now, knowing what she did of the Hierophant’s intentions—thinking, always, what Cassandra would have said—the Governess pretended she was driven by that ghost, and not by her own hopelessness. Without the self-delusion, she was a victim to a great many ugly thoughts, foremost among them being: Was the fear of life after her wife’s death worth such disgrace? A death sentence? Few appreciated what little difference there was between human and martyr, and fewer cared, because caring was fatal. But she was a part of the Holy Family. Shouldn’t that have been all that mattered? Stunning how, after three centuries, she deserved to be treated no better than a human. Then again, there was nothing quite like resignation from one’s post to fall in her Father’s estimate. Partly, he was upset by her poor timing—she did stand him up at some stupid press event, but only because she hoped it would keep everybody occupied while she got away. In that moment, she couldn’t even remember what it was. Dedicating a bridge? Probably. Her poor head, what did the nature of the event matter when she was close to death?

That lapse in social graces was not the reason for this hunt. He understood that more lay behind her resignation than a keening for country life. Even before he called her while she and the others took the tanque to the coast, he must have known. Just like he must have known the crash was seconds from happening while he chatted away, and that the humans in her company, already nervous to be within a foot of the fleeing Governess, were doomed.

Of the many people remaining on Earth, those lumped into the group of “human” were at constant risk of death, mutilation, or—far worse—unwilling martyrdom. This meant those humans lucky enough to avoid city-living segregation went to great lengths to keep their private properties secure. Not only houses but stables. The Disgraced Governess found this to be true of the stables into which she might have stumbled and electrocuted herself were it not for the bug zaps of rain against the threshold’s surface. Her mind made an instinctive turn toward prayer for the friendliness of the humans in the nearby farmhouse—an operation she was quick to abort. In those seconds (minutes?) since the crash, she’d succeeded in reconstructing the tinted windows of the tanque and a glimpse of silver ram’s horns: the Lamb lurked close enough to hear her like she spoke into his ear. It was too much to ask that he be on her side tonight.

Granted, the dogs of the Lamb were far closer, and far more decisive about where their loyalties stood. One hound sank its teeth into her ankle, and she, crying out, kicked the beast into its closest partner with a crunch. Slower dogs snarled outrage in the distance while the Disgraced Governess ran to the farmhouse caught in her left periphery. The prudent owners, to her frustration, shuttered their windows at night. Nevertheless, she smashed her fist against the one part of the house that protruded: the doorbell required by the Hierophant’s “fair play” dictatum allowing the use of electronic barriers. As the humans inside stumbled out of bed in response to her buzzing, the Disgraced Governess unholstered her antique revolver and unloaded two rounds into the recovered canines before they were upon her. The discharge wasn’t a tip-off she wanted to give to the Lamb and her other pursuers, but it hastened the response of the sleeping farmers as the intercom crackled to life.

“Who is it?” A woman’s voice, quivering with an edge of panic.

“My name is Dominia di Mephitoli: I’m the former Governess of the United Front, and I need to borrow a horse. Please. Don’t let me in. Just drop the threshold on your stables.”

“The Governess? I’m sorry, I don’t understand. The Dominia di Mephitoli, really? The martyr?”

“Yes, yes, please. I need a horse now.” Another dog careened around the corner and leapt over the bodies of his comrades with such grace that she wasted her third round in the corpses. Two more put it down as she shouted into the receiver. “I can’t transfer you any credits because they’ve frozen my Halcyon account, but I’ll leave you twenty pieces of silver if you drop the threshold and loan me a horse. You can reclaim it at the docks off Bay Street, in the township of Sienna. Please! He’ll kill me.”

“And he’ll be sure to kill us for helping you.”

“Tell him I threatened you. Tell him I tricked you! Anything. Just help me get away!”

“He’ll never believe what we say. He’ll kill me, my husband, our children. We can’t.”

“Oh, please. An act of mercy for a dying woman. Please, help me leave. I can give you the name of a man in San Valentino who can shelter you and give you passage abroad.”

“There’s no time to go so far south. Not as long as it takes to get across the city.”

It had been ten seconds since she’d heard the last dog. That worried her. With her revolver at the ready, she scanned the area for something more than the quivering roulette blotches swelling in her right eye. Nothing but the dead animals. “He’ll kill you either way. For talking to me, and not keeping me occupied until his arrival. For knowing that there’s disarray in his perfect land. He’ll find a reason, even if it only makes sense to him.”

The steady beat of rain pattered out a passive answer. On the verge of giving up, Dominia stepped back to ready herself for a fight—and the house’s threshold dropped with an electric pop. The absent mauve shimmer left the façade bare. How rare to see a country place without its barrier! A strange thing. Stranger for the front door to open; she’d only expected them to do away with the threshold on the stables.

But, rather than the housewife she’d anticipated, there stood the Hierophant. Several bleak notions clicked into place.

One immaculate gray brow arched. “Now, Dominia, that’s hardly fair. Knowledge of your disgrace isn’t why I’ll kill them. The whole world will know of it tomorrow morning. You embarrassed me by sending your resignation, rather than making the appearance I asked of you, so it is only fair I embarrass you by rejecting your resignation and firing you publicly. No, my dear. I will kill these fine people to upset you. In fact, Mr. McLintock is already dead in the attic. A mite too brave. Of course”—he winked, and whispered in conspiracy—“don’t tell them that.”

“How did you know I’d come here?”

“Such an odd spurt of rain tonight. Of all your Jurisdictions, this one is usually so dry this time of year! Won’t you come in for tea? Mrs. McLintock brews a fine pot. But put that gun away. You’re humiliating yourself. And me.”

 

About the Author

M.F. Sullivan is the author of Delilah, My Woman, The Lightning Stenography Device, and a slew of plays in addition to the Trilogy. She lives in Ashland, Oregon with her boyfriend and her cat, where she attends the local Shakespeare Festival and experiments with the occult.

Find more information about her work (and plenty of free essays) here. 

 

 

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New Release – Healing Glass by Jackie Keswick #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Healing Glass

Author: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Pavelle Art

Release Date: May 13, 2019

Genre/s: Fantasy, M/M, Fantasy romance

Trope/s: friends to lovers, two against evil

Themes: fighting oppression, personal responsibility, love is stronger than tyranny, never piss off a man who has something to protect 😉

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Add on Goodreads

 

 

Blurb

A dying city.

An ancient, forgotten accord.

And two gifted men caught in a web of greed and dark magic.

Despite belonging to different guilds, glass master Minel and warrior captain Falcon are friends. Their duties keep them apart, but when Minel falls ill and chooses death rather than the only known cure, nothing can keep Falcon from his side.

As their friendship grows into more, old wrongs and one man’s machinations threaten the floating city and leave both Minel and Falcon fighting for their lives. Can they learn to combine their gifts to save the city and its magic, or will everything they know and love perish before their eyes?

Healing Glass is an LGBT fantasy adventure with its head in the clouds. If you like medieval backdrops, impressive world-building, three-dimensional characters and a touch of magic, then you’ll love Jackie Keswick’s socially-conscious adventure.

Buy Healing Glass to visit the floating city today!

 

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Excerpt

Half a mile above the surface, a deep, rumbling groan rattled through Favin’s bones and turned his guts to water. The elevator jerked and shuddered—long enough for Favin to wonder whether he’d left his errand too late—before it resumed its stately progress up towards the floating city.

The groans and jerks came more often these days, on almost every journey. Despite the trickle of ice-cold fear, Favin welcomed the noise and stuttering ascent. He’d raised the alarm weeks earlier, but no one had believed the word of a servant. No one but Councillor Teak, who now clung to the transparent wall on the far side of the elevator, face grey and eyes wide.

The City Council would believe Teak.

“Is… this… why you wanted me to accompany you?” Teak spoke louder than necessary in the tight confines of the chamber bearing them aloft.

“Yes, Councillor. I reported it several times, but—” Favin stopped, loath to criticise the council. “I felt you had to know what’s happening.”

Teak, resplendent in a well-cut black coat and lace cuffs under his scarlet robe of office, didn’t belong in an elevator filled with rows of stacked crates, bins of cloth, and rolls of parchment, even when Favin hadn’t packed the space as full as he usually did. The councillor didn’t need the experience of a full cargo run, of squeezing into a gap just large enough to get in and out of. Never mind that he wouldn’t have fit. The servants joked that were the councillor hollow, one of them could fit inside his frame with space to spare.

Teak enjoyed his food as much as he enjoyed his status and privileges, but he hadn’t lost all sense of his responsibilities. When Favin had asked for his help, he’d only grumbled a little before agreeing to investigate the matter. Now here he stood, pressed against the transparent wall, gaze riveted to the crate in front of him, not daring to look down.

Favin watched the sea and the sky over Teak’s shoulder, wishing—as always— that he could see the city as they made their way towards it. The freight elevators didn’t allow for such a view, and Favin’s work rarely left him the leisure to sit on the beach.

Four levels of squat glass tiers and elegant spires connected by sweeping stairs and graceful bridges, suspended high above the waves by a raft of near-invisible columns… the floating city had stood waiting at the edge of the ocean when the Craft Guild arrived in need of shelter. Nobody knew its builders. Nobody quite understood how it worked. The city kept its occupants warm and dry, the glass walls closing or receding depending on the weather. Fountains supplied water in every square, and in all the buildings. The middle tier of the city—a wide, level space between the double-story, flat-roofed dwellings of the lower level and the skyward-reaching spires of the top tier—had been given over to growing food. All other goods the inhabitants needed came via the trade guilds and the Merchant Guild. The craft masters could have anything that fit into one of the eight large elevators, whether it came by land or sea, while men like Favin ensured the goods arrived where they were needed.

The groan came again, more of a pained shriek now, like the death cry of a material used too long and too well, as an abrupt slip downward hurled both Teak and Favin to their knees.

Then the sounds stopped.

The downward movement stopped.

And the elevator resumed its unhurried climb.

Sweat pearled on Teak’s brow and upper lip by the time the transparent cabin reached its goal. “Can we… not use this elevator?” He stepped off the floating disk before he turned to ask.

“It will delay deliveries, Councillor.”

“How many journeys do you make in a day?”

“Some days as many as fifty.”

“And the noise and the… jerking… have been getting more frequent?”

“Yes. I’m told the other elevators show the same signs of trouble. And in the upper city, the glass is said to be weeping.”

“Weeping?”

“That’s what I’ve heard, Councillor. I’ve not seen it.”

“No, of course not.” Servants of Favin’s class had no access to the upper levels. “Thank you, Favin, for bringing this to my attention.”

Favin bowed to the councillor before he set about unloading the cargo into the hands of the waiting servants. The council would decide whether to shut down the elevator or keep it running. He’d done as much as he could do, given his station. He’d said his piece and had had a councillor listen.

He continued with his work, until words drifting through a half-open door stopped him on his way to deliver rolls of parchment and ink to the council chamber.

“Weeping is the only way to describe it, Wark. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“And you think it’s going to be a problem?” The clipped tones were the regent’s and Favin froze where he stood, listening.

“Of course, it’s a problem,” Teak argued. “Go and see for yourself if you don’t believe me. There’s liquid glass welling up out of the column and trickling down its length. What do you think will happen if the glass wears away doing that? Or if the whole column turns to liquid? Will it continue to support the upper level in that state, or will it run into the sea and disappear?”

“Calm yourself, Teak. I’m sure there’s no need for panic.”

“You would know, of course.” Teak said snidely. “But I say you should listen. There’s more than one of those weeping spots in the upper city. The freight elevators jerk and groan, and servants are buying out their contracts, happier to make a life elsewhere than work here.”

Then it is serious, Favin thought, glued to his spot. More serious than I knew.Positions with one of the three gifted guilds were hotly sought. Only the king’s court paid better wages, and with the high prices in the royal city and port of Allengi, those wages didn’t go nearly as far.

“We must deal with this, Wark. Before it is too late.”

“Repairs to the city’s fabric are the task of the glass master. I will make sure he attends to the problem.”

“Minel is an outstanding craft master.” Teak bristled as if he had heard something in Wark’s comment that Favin had not. Something he disagreed with. “Most sought after, despite his youth. His list of commissions is near endless and he earns—”

“There are no other glass masters in the guild. Minel is our only choice if we want to fix the problem you’ve brought to my attention.” Regent Wark sounded oddly gleeful.

“No. You can’t— What if—?”

“You can’t have it both ways, Teak. You can’t bring me a problem and then object when I solve it. Minel’s work and his designs pay a large part of the city’s debts. I’m not so stupid I’d interfere with that. But if the fabric of the city fails, all the money and favours we’re owed will be no use to us. It’s fortunate that Minel cares about nothing but making glass. He doesn’t have the stomach for confrontation. I think… I think this will work out very well. Minel will accept that we direct his work and we can add another treasure to our collection. I have waited long enough.”

 

About the Author

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

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who don’t follow the rules when those rules are stupid. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

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

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

 

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Cover Reveal – Healing Glass by Jackie Keswick

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Healing Glass

Author: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Pavelle Art

Release Date: May 13, 2019

Genre/s: Fantasy, M/M, Fantasy romance

Trope/s: friends to lovers, two against evil

Themes: fighting oppression, personal responsibility, love is stronger than tyranny, never piss off a man who has something to protect 😉

Heat Rating:  3 flames

 

 They thought to bury us. They never saw that we were seeds. Seeds of glass and steel, stronger and more resilient than either.

Blurb

A dying city.

An ancient, forgotten accord.

And two gifted men caught in a web of greed and dark magic.

Despite belonging to different guilds, glass master Minel and warrior captain Falcon are friends. Their duties keep them apart, but when Minel falls ill and chooses death rather than the only known cure, nothing can keep Falcon from his side.

As their friendship grows into more, old wrongs and one man’s machinations threaten the floating city and leave both Minel and Falcon fighting for their lives. Can they learn to combine their gifts to save the city and its magic, or will everything they know and love perish before their eyes?

Healing Glass is an LGBT fantasy adventure with its head in the clouds. If you like medieval backdrops, impressive world-building, three-dimensional characters and a touch of magic, then you’ll love Jackie Keswick’s socially-conscious adventure.

Buy Healing Glass to visit the floating city today!

 

Buy Links – Pre-Order Available Now

Payhip Store (this offers a lower price than mainstream retailers)

Universal Link

Kobo

Apple Books

Barnes & Noble

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon CA

Amazon AU

Amazon DE

 

About the Author

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

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who don’t follow the rules when those rules are stupid. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

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

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

 

Author Links

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Newsletter

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New Release – Unimaginable by Iyana Jenna #giveaway

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Book Title: Unimaginable

Author: Iyana Jenna

Publisher: JMS Books

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs

Genre/s: Fantasy, M/M Romance

Trope/s: shifters, vampire

Themes: drama

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 14 675 words/ 52 pages

The book is planned as part of a series but can be read as a standalone.

Add on Goodreads

Blurb

Callum Saxon wakes up to a totally different universe where all around him is water. Strangely he can breathe it as if it’s air. The bad thing is he can’t remember how he got there. He can’t remember himself, either.

Ainsley Carlisle is more than a man with long blond hair. He’s a unicorn shifter with secrets as widely stretched as the rainbow supposedly coming out of his rear. Ainsley won’t help Callum uncover who he is because Ainsley wants him to remember it himself.

In this new universe, Callum has to survive the creatures that live there, such as vampires, shifters, werewolves, you name it. But there’s more to Callum than meets the eye.

 

Buy Links

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Excerpt

Callum wasn’t completely unaware of where he was going. He recognized the place as the kind of pub Ainsley had showed him earlier. He wasn’t sure how he was going to pay for his drinks but the thought of losing himself in alcohol was as big of enticement as his desire to erase his mind completely — if there was any to erase.

Callum blinked his eyes, adjusting to the dim light inside. The place was quiet, practically empty. Perhaps it was still quite early. It wasn’t unlike other pubs he frequented — ha, he remembered that piece of information. The only thing keeping this one apart from the ones he knew was the slow moving thick water around him. Callum just hoped he wouldn’t get sick like some time ago when he first shoveled food down into his stomach. He gazed straight at the bartender. Now what could he say to get a free drink …

“Hello, gorgeous.”

He looked up. A literal tall, dark, and handsome was looming over him. Callum wouldn’t call himself short but compared to this man? He was a midget.

“What are you doing alone in this place, baby doll? Where is your, ah, partner?”

“What do you mean?”

The stranger waved his hand. “You know, that blond bastard?”

So he knew he’d been going about with Ainsley.

“Come on,” the man said dismissively. “Two pretty creatures like you? You were both strolling around the town like the happiest couple in the realm, making everyone jealous.”

Callum sputtered. “Jealous? We’re not a couple and I’m not sure about the pretty creatures …” Talking about pretty, he himself couldn’t tear his gaze away from … what was his name?

“Who are you?” Callum’s voice was as weak as he was feeling at the moment.

The man closed the distance between them and Callum sniffed his cologne. It was a scent he’d never smelled before. It was a mix of their surroundings, like ocean breeze as well as the old woods, added with citrus aromas and a trace of musk underlying all of those. It was strong but not too overpoweringly so or suffocating. It was more like the flow of the ocean water, soothing and lulling, spellbinding.

“Is a name that important to you?”

Callum felt like he was coming back from a long slumber. He looked up from the man’s strong, sculpted jaw, which sat at his eye level.

“Uh …”

“What’s yours, l’ange?”

It took a beat and Callum realized the man just called him angel in French. So they spoke French here, too, Callum mused. He wondered what other languages they spoke.

“Callum. Callum Saxon.”

“Your name is as pretty as its owner.” He practically purred.

“How about you?”

To Callum’s surprise, the man withdrew a little to make a deep bow with one leg pulled back and a hand waving low.

“I am usually called Patrice Deniau. I believe that’s my real name though it’s been centuries and I honestly can’t remember in which period of time I was named that.”

Callum felt as if all the air in his lungs was sucked out. Centuries. Period of time. What was this man whose name sounded French, too — Patrice Deniau? A vampire?

A shudder ran down his spine. Patrice did look like a vampire with his tall, slender figure, sharp chin, dark hair, and a pair of intense blue eyes that easily bewitched Callum.

“I, uh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Deniau.”

“Mister?” Patrice’s laughter was soft and lilting. “Unless you are to call me Sir or Master, Patrice will suffice.” He stroked Callum’s jaw with his long fingers.

Callum let out an involuntary moan. He knew he had to pull back, move away. But he couldn’t. Instead, he leaned in and his eyes shuttered closed. He practically purred.

“Yes, all right, Patrice.” It was Patrice for now. Later, he decided, he might change to Sir, even Master.

“Very well. Good Lord, you’re so gorgeous. Has anyone told you that?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” Amidst his foggy mind, Callum heard himself replying, not that he knew exactly what he had been asked.

“Really? Who was that, someone special?”

Callum nodded. “Yes.”

“Someone you loved or someone who loved you?”

“Both. Love.” Why past tense? “He still loves me.”

“As you deserve, someone as captivating as you. May I know — I believe it’s that Carlisle boy? Ainsley?”

Ainsley. Callum’s cheeks heated up as the name was mentioned. He’d definitely developed a certain infatuation with the man. But love? They had not even declared their feelings to each other. Declare, because Callum was certain their feelings were mutual. He shook his head slowly.

“No?” Patrice sounded surprised. “You’ve only been here for, what, two days, three days at the most. I can’t believe you’ve been fooling around, let alone falling in love.”

But of course he’d not been fooling around. He’d barely met other people aside from Ainsley and his mother. Yet it was neither of the two who he had on his mind.

Kevin Travers.

Callum blinked as a name suddenly flashed across his mind. He shook himself inwardly and took a deep breath. The name sounded familiar. It had to be familiar. Otherwise, why would it turn up out of the blue?

“What is it, my dear? You look ashen.”

Callum was suddenly out of breath, near hyperventilating. “He was … he is …”

“Yes?” Patrice’s hand crept up at the back of his head.

“I don’t remember but … but he was important to me. I just know it.” Patrice stroked his scalp with knowing fingers and it was all Callum could do to stop himself from moaning.

“Is he still important now?”

 

About the Author

I’m Iyana Jenna and you can call me Iyana. I like writing, romance, and man-love, so you’re mostly going to find my stories as m/m whether they are for adults or young adults. They are not going to be too heavy on explicit sex, though, as many say that my stories are considered sweet romance.

When I don’t write, I teach English to children, teens, and adults. I also work in the curriculum and materials department in a language institution. Among my responsibilities are writing books and tests.

 

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New Release – The Gathering Storm (Book 2 of Juxtan) by Tricia Owens #KindleUnlimited

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Book Title: The Gathering Storm (Book 2 of Juxtan)

Author: Tricia Owens

Publisher:  Self-Published

Cover Artist: Tricia Owens

Genre/s: Fantasy, M/M romance

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 50 000 words

Release Date: April 22, 2019

Add on Goodreads

 

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Blurb

After betraying the only man he ever loved, Hadrian ni Leyanon waits for death amid the ruins of a sorcerous battle. Before that can happen he is recruited by the Council of Elders which governs the use of magick in Juxtan. The Council needs him to track down his evil sorcerer father and force him to face a justice they aren’t powerful enough to inflict on their own. Wracked with guilt, Hadrian agrees to join the mage-led mission in the hopes it will allow him to redeem himself. But when Caled, the handsome mercenary whom Hadrian betrayed, insists on joining the mission, too, Hadrian discovers that redemption needs to come from the man who hates him most.

This book was previously published as The Gathering.

 

Excerpt

The mercenary tightened his fingers around Hadrian’s wrist in response. For a brief instant Hadrian was transported back in time, when Caled held his arm this way because he was leading Hadrian back to the Bell and Buckle for a midday roll and they were trying to be discreet while excitement quickening their pulses. The memory was so sharp and the ache it caused so painful that Hadrian let out a whimper of longing before he could stop himself.

Caled turned his head at the sound, his glorious blue eyes still full of a hate that seemed to age him. But there was something else which lurked in those sapphire depths, something…

“Please,” Hadrian said, the word holding a thousand meanings―it was up to Caled to decide which interpretation to take. “Please.”

Caled had brought them to a mudroom off the main entrance that afforded some privacy. In the semi-darkness, surrounded by hanging cloaks and furs, Caled released Hadrian’s arm and turned around. He herded Hadrian back against the nearest wall, Hadrian clumsily moving his feet out of the way to avoid being stepped on.

“It’s too late for that,” Caled told him grimly. “It’s too late for pleas, for forgiveness. It’s too late, Hadrian.”

Hadrian found himself pressed into the scratchy fabric of wool cloaks. Damp mud on their hems brushed the backs of his bare calves, making him shiver at the cold. But if he needed heat, all he needed to do was look into Caled’s eyes.

“I understand you’re going to kill me,” Hadrian began, his voice stronger than he expected. “I deserve your justice.” The lines around Caled’s eyes deepened. “But I want you to know, Caled. I want you to know―it wasn’t a deception. What we shared―it was real. It was real for me.”

 

About the Author

Tricia Owens has been writing m/m fiction since 2000, after stumbling onto the term ‘slash’ and thinking it referred to horror stories. She is the author of the Sin City, A Pirate’s Life for Me, and Juxtapose City series, among several others. She lives in Las Vegas.

 

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Review Tour – Apple Boy by Isobel Starling #KindleUnlimited

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Book Title:  Apple Boy (The Quiet Work #1)

Author: Isobel Starling

Publisher: Decent Fellows Press

Cover Artist: Valentine Pascadian (Lennel)

Genre/s:  Fantasy, M/M Romance

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:103 600 words/ 556 pages

Release Date: February 15, 2019

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Blurb

After a traumatic event, Winter Aeling finds himself destitute and penniless in the backwater town of Mallowick.  He needs to travel to the city of Serein and impart grave news that will bring war to the Empire, but without a horse, money, and with not a soul willing to help him, he has no choice but to line up with the common folk seeking paid work on the harvest.  

As wagons roll into the market square and farmers choose day laborers, Winter is singled out for abuse by a brute of a farmer.  The only man who stands up for him is the farmer’s beguiling son, Adam, and on locking eyes with the swarthy young man Winter feels the immediate spark of attraction.

Winter soon realizes there is a reason he has been drawn to Blackdown Farm.  The farmer possesses a precious item that was stolen long ago from Winter’s family, and he determines to retrieve it.  He also cannot take his eyes off the farmer’s son, and as the young man opens up Winter can’t help wondering if Adam is just kind or his kind!

 

 

 

About the Author

Isobel Starling spent most of her twenty-year professional career making art in Ireland.  She relocated to the UK and, faced with the dreaded artist’s creative block, Isobel started to write and found she loved writing more than making art.

Isobel is currently working on her nineteenth book.  

“As You Wish” (Shatterproof Bond#1) narrated by Gary Furlong won the Audiobook Reviewer Award for Romance 2018.  It is the first M/M Romance audiobook to win a mainstream audiobook award.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website

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Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Book Blast – Apple Boy by Isobel Starling #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title:  Apple Boy (The Quiet Work #1)

Author: Isobel Starling

Publisher: Decent Fellows Press

Cover Artist: Valentine Pascadian (Lennel)

Genre/s:  Fantasy, M/M Romance

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:103 600 words/ 556 pages

Release Date: February 15, 2019

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US

Amazon UK

 

 

Blurb

After a traumatic event, Winter Aeling finds himself destitute and penniless in the backwater town of Mallowick.  He needs to travel to the city of Serein and impart grave news that will bring war to the Empire, but without a horse, money, and with not a soul willing to help him, he has no choice but to line up with the common folk seeking paid work on the harvest.  

As wagons roll into the market square and farmers choose day laborers, Winter is singled out for abuse by a brute of a farmer.  The only man who stands up for him is the farmer’s beguiling son, Adam, and on locking eyes with the swarthy young man Winter feels the immediate spark of attraction.

Winter soon realizes there is a reason he has been drawn to Blackdown Farm.  The farmer possesses a precious item that was stolen long ago from Winter’s family, and he determines to retrieve it.  He also cannot take his eyes off the farmer’s son, and as the young man opens up Winter can’t help wondering if Adam is just kind or his kind!

 

 

Excerpt

“Apple Boy” by Isobel Starling

CHAPTER 1

MARKET SQUARE

“You boy, aye, YOU.  Ain’t never seen ye round ‘ere before,” The farmer directed his bellow at me.  

It was sunrise, and at last, I’d found the courage to step out of my hiding place and join the common laborers who gathered in Mallowick market square.  We were waiting for the farmers’ carts to come by and choose their day workers.  I’d watched this ritual each morning for the past three days, peeking out from shadowed doorways, or while crouching behind barrels.  

It was harvest time, and it appeared to be routine for peasants to walk from the surrounding hamlets before dawn and assemble in the square to seek work on the farms.  There was wheat, barley, root vegetables, and tree fruits to be gathered before the weather turned. I was informed by a ruddy looking fellow in the tavern that anyone could get work on the harvest, and so, with my pride cut to ribbons and my pockets empty, I’d stepped out of the safety of my hiding place and joined the commoners.

“Does ye wants work or no’?  Look at me when I’m talkin’ to ye.  What’s yer name?” The burley farmer roared.  I looked up, stunned to be singled out from among all of these strapping men and hardy looking women, for I felt invisible.  Four carts had already passed and taken their pick of the young, strong peasants, but none of those farmers gave me a second glance.  I should have known something was afoot, for when this particular wagon turned up the women in the square shrank back into doorways, and men sidled away to lean against buildings.  On the side of the wagon, writ-large in bold off-white letters were the words BLACKDOWN FARM. There were around thirty of us left on view, like cattle.

I had never partaken in manual labor or any kind of work before.  I was a gentleman and far more familiar with spending my days relaxing, reading, attending social events in the city, or taking a horse for a gallop in the country.  But my life had changed since I’d become stranded here in the Pasturelands provincial town of Mallowick two weeks earlier.  Now I was living on my wits.  Each day was a fight for my life, and I’d sold all of my fine belongings, intending to pay for passage on the stagecoach from Mallowick to the city of Serein.  But I had not thought things through, and it did not happen that way.  My body’s needs took precedent. I’d become so ravenous, and therefore the meager coin I’d gathered from selling my finery was spent on what I could afford—basic rough barley bread and ale, just enough to stave off the gnawing pangs of hunger in my belly each day.  Now, I had no belongings, and the money was all but gone. I was no thief, and the only thing I had left to sell was my body. Looking like a wretch, I did not believe I could earn even a copper that way! Before I left on my travels, I was warned that the province of Erias had strict rules about men bedding other men and I did not want to tempt fate.  I was at a loss—hard labor or starvation were the only choices available to me. Gods, if my father could see how far I’d fallen in such a short time, he would be thoroughly ashamed.  I was living hand-to-mouth, and if I dared to seek out my reflection and observe my disreputable state of dress, I was sure I would see I was no longer a gentleman at all.

I assured myself that all would be well as soon as I could get to the city of Serein.  There I would attend my father’s depository and obtain funds from his account—as had been arranged, and then, I could find my way to my uncle’s residence and attend to a much grimmer business.  

So, with no other choice, I was here, standing in Mallowick market square with a bunch of rough-looking fellows and ruddy-faced women with just the ragged clothes I stood in to my name.  I wondered if my visage had taken on the same gaunt, starved, haunted look some of them wore.

“WELL?”  The farmer roared.

“Leave him be Pa; I think he’s a mute.  P… p… please don’t—” A swarthy young man urged, stepping to the farmers’ side.  The man appeared to be in his early twenties, with broad angular shoulders, slim hips, and wavy jaw-length hair that longingly reminded me of Montestein tea.  When the morning sunlight broke through the clouds and caressed him, the strands of his hair revealed all the shades of autumn.  It was beautiful.  His eyes were bright emerald green, and his skin bore the wind-burned tan of a man who spent his days working the land.  I met his gaze for a second that seemed to stop time, and I felt a flutter of longing erupt in my gut. I found myself mesmerized by him.  He appeared a little embarrassed, for himself or for me, I wasn’t quite sure. The farmer turned to his son.

“Shut that filthy mouth o’ yours, apple boy!” he spat.  His large meaty hands twitched.  He sneered and glared at his son in such a wicked way I knew it should have been followed up by a sharp slap.  I worried that the young man would endure further public humiliation at the hands of his father, but the farmer moved his disdainful glare back to me.  I shuddered with fear. I had a feeling that he was saving his son’s punishment for later—away from the prying eyes of the townsfolk. I did not like that thought, not one bit.  I did not know why the farmer was drawn to me, but he sized me up with a sweeping glance of consideration, then wrinkled his nose as if he’d sniffed a revolting stench—I hadn’t bathed in two weeks, so maybe I did smell a tad ripe!

“Is ye a mute?”

I shook my head.  I would say, if anything, I was deeply traumatized by the unfortunate circumstance I’d found myself in, but no, I was certainly not a mute.  I just wasn’t used to a lowly man speaking to me so roughly. Generally, men who dared to address me knew their betters and behaved appropriately.  But here in Mallowick, in the province of Erias, I was no better than a beggar on the street.  There was no one I could call on for favors, no one who, on hearing my family name, would loan me coin for the stagecoach or a horse to ride to the city and send word to my father.  

When I’d first arrived in Mallowick, telling the truth of my station had gotten me dragged down an alley where my finger and earrings were stolen, and I’d received a beating.  This farmer from Blackdown Farm had no idea who I was, and I would not make the same mistake again.

I took a breath and stepped out of line.  “Master Irwin Harding, sir. You may call me Win.”  I winced at hearing my own soft, well-spoken voice, with my accent, the clipped tongue of Thorn.  I had not used my real name and wished I had not used my true voice either.  The fact that I was the son of the Duke of Thorn meant nothing here.  Thorn was west of Erias, on the other side of the Silua Montis Mountain range, and I doubted any of these illiterate souls in Mallowick knew anything other than that folklore passed around by storytellers.

The farmer stepped to stand in front of me.  He was a big, bulky bastard of a man and stank of stale sweat and baccy.  He had a grizzled podgy face and thick dark hair shot with strands of silver pulled into an untidy tail.  The tension grew between us, and I worried I’d spoken out of turn. I looked down and watched my bare, filthy feet as if they held endless fascination.  I’d seen men like him before. He had hands like shovels, and I’m sure they’d done damage in their time. My father would have used a man like him well, probably as muscle to intimidate the city folk while the Royal Chancellor did the rounds collecting taxes.  

Afraid and sweating with anxiety, I glanced up and away, unable to look at the farmer directly and meet his fierce piggy eyes.  Instead, I looked left and caught the eye of his son. I felt another flutter of attraction. I was grateful for it because it dampened my fear a little.  The glance the farmers’ son sent me back was sheepish, apologetic. He shrugged and put a finger to his lips, signaling for me to hush. I’m sure now he knew what was coming.

Master, is it?”  The farmer gave a raspy malevolent chuckle.  “Well, well, well aren’t ye an uppity little scrote.  Such a pretty voice an’ all. Have your balls dropped yet, lad?”  

The townsmen men standing around me shuffled on their feet and snickered uncomfortably.  I could tell from the tentative laughter they were afraid of this man too. My chest tightened with fury, and I felt the flare of heat rush to color my cheeks.  If in Thorn I would have put this fellow in his place, but as directed by the farmers’ handsome son, I held my tongue.  

I dared to look up as the farmer scratched his grizzled chin and consider me.  It was then I saw it. A chill iced my bones. On his chubby right index finger, he wore a gold ring set with a large red gemstone that I was aghast to see held the intaglio engraving of a rose thorn—my family’s seal.  How had this disgusting Pasturelands farmer come upon my family’s ring?  Anger curdled my gut, but I forced myself to focus and fixed my features so as not to alert the man to what I was looking at.  That ring was more precious than I could say. It was not set with any common gemstone, oh no, the setting was Star-fall.  The legend was that mortal tools could not cut the rich-red Star-fall stone.  The gemstone was shaped by sorcery, and the power that carved into the gem was stored inside it as if the Star-fall was a reservoir for the magic.  It was illegal for any other than the Twin Kings of Osia to own Star-fall.  The king’s men had scoured the Empire to remove all traces of the priceless gem from common and aristocratic hands and possessing it was a death sentence.  Did this ruffian have any idea what he wore?

Not getting a rise from me, the farmer stepped yet closer and found out for himself if my balls had dropped.  He reached for my privates and squeezed.

Ahh, ye got some big stones de’re al’right, boy,” he said with a filthy sneer.

“Done any labourin’ before, lad?”  My eyes watered.  I shook my head and winced as the pressure on my most sensitive parts rose.  I wanted to shout and push him away, punch him in that bristly pug face. I’d trained in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay, but that was of little use to me now that I had no sword and was cast as naught but a commoner myself.  I stood frozen to the spot with fear, my cock, and balls in the hand of this brutish man. I was sure that clutching my nethers was not the best way to test if I would be a good apple picker.  

The farmer let go, stepped back, and looked me over again like he was sizing up a prize pig.  I wanted to keel over, hold my sensitive parts and howl, but, with my eyes watering, I kept my back ramrod straight and looked past the farmer, using his son’s regretful, pretty green eyes as my focus.  

I appeared to be a boy, but I am nineteen and about to make my majority.  I have a tall, willowy frame, and little muscle to show for my near twenty summers.  Weeks before, I was clothed in the silken garb of a lordling, but all I wore now were my stinky silk britches and a once-white linen shirt.  I’d even had to sell my fine leather boots. My flaxen hair hung loosely to my shoulders and was bedraggled. My mother had always told me my hair shone like a golden halo.  I guessed that was no longer the case. I had not seen my reflection in two weeks so I could only imagine how frightful I appeared to onlookers. My circumstance was terrible, but I refused to let it defeat me.  I was a son of Thorn, I was a gentleman, damn it, and I was prepared to do whatever it took to do to find my way to my destination and seek justice for all the ill-luck that had befallen me.  

“Right, scrote, up on the wagon,” the farmer declared.  “We can always do wit a few extra scurrier’s fer the windfalls.”

I had no idea what that actually meant, but strangely relieved to be selected, I nodded subserviently and then, ducking my head to avoid the farmers’ glare, I scurried to the wagon where I surreptitiously gave my aching intimate parts a gentle rub.  

I’d heard from a fellow in the tavern that harvesting wheat at Robinswood Farm was backbreaking, as was digging root vegetables at Windy Oakes Farm.  He advised that apple picking was easy work and if I could get employment at Weatherby’s or Blackdown Farm, they paid good coin.  He said the mistress at Blackdown was particularly well-liked and always gave laborers a bread and cheese luncheon with last season’s cider.  I was so hungry that bread and cheese sounded like a banquet. The fellow had neglected to tell me that the farmer was a brute!

The farmers’ son met me by the wagon and offered to help me aboard.  For a moment, from the look of consideration in his eyes, I thought he could see past the disheveled state of me to the gentleman I’d once been.  But that was ridiculous. The farmers’ son hopped up onto the back of the wagon with dexterous athleticism, and then offered me his hands. I took them without a thought.  His warm touch and the strength in those work-roughened fingers twisted my gut into uncomfortable knots. He fixed my gaze as he gripped both of my hands and tugged me up as easily as if he were lifting feather down.  He pulled me closed and pressed me to his hard chest.

“Don’t back chat him or it’ll be the worst fer you,” he whispered the warning to my ear.  Alarmed, I eased back from him and cautiously met his eye for a split second. In the look he gave me I saw that the warning was well-meant.  Bewildered, I nodded in thanks and understanding. I had no idea why this stranger was looking out for me, but the fact he was warmed my heart.  I choked back a tear. No one had looked out for me over these past weeks, and I had been so terribly lonely. I’d learned some hard life lessons on this leg of my journey, and I’d come to understand that here my title was irrelevant, and without money I was suddenly invisible; therefore small kindnesses meant more than I could say.

My adventure into the provinces had been made to appease my father for my supposed ‘lack of direction.’  I’d become bored with my easy life in Thorn, and not intending to marry; I’d told my father that in-light of my upcoming twentieth Bloomsday I wanted to tour the Empire.  If I were to one-day become Duke of Thorn, I needed to know a little of the politics of each province and so, pleased with my initiative and happy to be rid of me for a while, he’d set me on my way.  I’d toured the provinces of Terria, Corvay, and Reuss and then continued to the province of Osia, spending time in the capital city Altea, at the court of the Twin Kings, Kristoff, and Fabian Von Harte.  With this journey to Erias, I was to have the full set of provinces under my belt.  But fate was not on my side.

On benches affixed to either side of the farmers’ wagon sat fourteen men morosely staring at their bare, filthy feet, not a word of chatter between them.  They each owned a small pack of belongings and a wrapped blanket that each had stowed beneath the bench. At this moment they were better-off than me, for I did not even have a blanket to my name.  There was space for me and five more, totaling twenty men. The farmer chose from the remaining laborers with less consideration than I had been afforded.

“Right…  I’ll take Allin, Jed, Arthur, Bartram, and Matty, that’ll do me fer the week,” he hollered decisively.

The week?  I thought I’d promised myself for a hard day’s labor?  But then again, I considered the harvesters who were sitting in the wagon, and yes, they appeared to have prepared for an overnight stay.  Confused, I sat down as the other laborers were pulled up onto the wagon by their comrades, and then we shuffled along the benches until we were all seated.  I noticed the shoulders of the remaining men in the market square sag a little in apparent relief as if some mighty weight had lifted from them. I didn’t understand it.  I thought they’d wanted to work?

The farmers’ son clambered over into the front of the wagon.  His father climbed on, the man’s bulk shaking the timbers of the rickety wagon as he settled on the bench beside him.  The son handed his father the ribbons, which the farmer greedily snatched up, and then with a fearsome bellow of “Geddup” and a thunderous whip crack, the large mottled grey workhorse began its cumbersome trot down the main street and onto the dusty road to Blackdown Farm.

 

About the Author

Isobel Starling spent most of her twenty-year professional career making art in Ireland.  She relocated to the UK and, faced with the dreaded artist’s creative block, Isobel started to write and found she loved writing more than making art.

Isobel is currently working on her nineteenth book.  

“As You Wish” (Shatterproof Bond#1) narrated by Gary Furlong won the Audiobook Reviewer Award for Romance 2018.  It is the first M/M Romance audiobook to win a mainstream audiobook award.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website

Newsletter Sign up

Amazon Author Page

Decent Fellows Press

 

 

BOOK BLAST SCHEDULE

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

New Release – Apple Boy (The Quiet Work #1) by Isobel Starling #KindleUnlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title:  Apple Boy (The Quiet Work #1)

Author: Isobel Starling

Publisher: Decent Fellows Press

Cover Artist: Valentine Pascadian (Lennel)

Genre/s:  Fantasy, M/M Romance

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:103 600 words/ 556 pages

Release Date:  February 15, 2019

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US

Amazon UK

 

 

Blurb

After a traumatic event, Winter Aeling finds himself destitute and penniless in the backwater town of Mallowick.  He needs to travel to the city of Serein and impart grave news that will bring war to the Empire, but without a horse, money, and with not a soul willing to help him, he has no choice but to line up with the common folk seeking paid work on the harvest.  

As wagons roll into the market square and farmers choose day laborers, Winter is singled out for abuse by a brute of a farmer.  The only man who stands up for him is the farmer’s beguiling son, Adam, and on locking eyes with the swarthy young man Winter feels the immediate spark of attraction.

Winter soon realizes there is a reason he has been drawn to Blackdown Farm.  The farmer possesses a precious item that was stolen long ago from Winter’s family, and he determines to retrieve it.  He also cannot take his eyes off the farmer’s son, and as the young man opens up Winter can’t help wondering if Adam is just kind or his kind!

 

Excerpt

“Apple Boy” by Isobel Starling

CHAPTER 1

MARKET SQUARE

“You boy, aye, YOU.  Ain’t never seen ye round ‘ere before,” The farmer directed his bellow at me.  

It was sunrise, and at last, I’d found the courage to step out of my hiding place and join the common laborers who gathered in Mallowick market square.  We were waiting for the farmers’ carts to come by and choose their day workers.  I’d watched this ritual each morning for the past three days, peeking out from shadowed doorways, or while crouching behind barrels.  

It was harvest time, and it appeared to be routine for peasants to walk from the surrounding hamlets before dawn and assemble in the square to seek work on the farms.  There was wheat, barley, root vegetables, and tree fruits to be gathered before the weather turned. I was informed by a ruddy looking fellow in the tavern that anyone could get work on the harvest, and so, with my pride cut to ribbons and my pockets empty, I’d stepped out of the safety of my hiding place and joined the commoners.

“Does ye wants work or no’?  Look at me when I’m talkin’ to ye.  What’s yer name?” The burley farmer roared.  I looked up, stunned to be singled out from among all of these strapping men and hardy looking women, for I felt invisible.  Four carts had already passed and taken their pick of the young, strong peasants, but none of those farmers gave me a second glance.  I should have known something was afoot, for when this particular wagon turned up the women in the square shrank back into doorways, and men sidled away to lean against buildings.  On the side of the wagon, writ-large in bold off-white letters were the words BLACKDOWN FARM. There were around thirty of us left on view, like cattle.

I had never partaken in manual labor or any kind of work before.  I was a gentleman and far more familiar with spending my days relaxing, reading, attending social events in the city, or taking a horse for a gallop in the country.  But my life had changed since I’d become stranded here in the Pasturelands provincial town of Mallowick two weeks earlier.  Now I was living on my wits.  Each day was a fight for my life, and I’d sold all of my fine belongings, intending to pay for passage on the stagecoach from Mallowick to the city of Serein.  But I had not thought things through, and it did not happen that way.  My body’s needs took precedent. I’d become so ravenous, and therefore the meager coin I’d gathered from selling my finery was spent on what I could afford—basic rough barley bread and ale, just enough to stave off the gnawing pangs of hunger in my belly each day.  Now, I had no belongings, and the money was all but gone. I was no thief, and the only thing I had left to sell was my body. Looking like a wretch, I did not believe I could earn even a copper that way! Before I left on my travels, I was warned that the province of Erias had strict rules about men bedding other men and I did not want to tempt fate.  I was at a loss—hard labor or starvation were the only choices available to me. Gods, if my father could see how far I’d fallen in such a short time, he would be thoroughly ashamed.  I was living hand-to-mouth, and if I dared to seek out my reflection and observe my disreputable state of dress, I was sure I would see I was no longer a gentleman at all.

I assured myself that all would be well as soon as I could get to the city of Serein.  There I would attend my father’s depository and obtain funds from his account—as had been arranged, and then, I could find my way to my uncle’s residence and attend to a much grimmer business.  

So, with no other choice, I was here, standing in Mallowick market square with a bunch of rough-looking fellows and ruddy-faced women with just the ragged clothes I stood in to my name.  I wondered if my visage had taken on the same gaunt, starved, haunted look some of them wore.

“WELL?”  The farmer roared.

“Leave him be Pa; I think he’s a mute.  P… p… please don’t—” A swarthy young man urged, stepping to the farmers’ side.  The man appeared to be in his early twenties, with broad angular shoulders, slim hips, and wavy jaw-length hair that longingly reminded me of Montestein tea.  When the morning sunlight broke through the clouds and caressed him, the strands of his hair revealed all the shades of autumn.  It was beautiful.  His eyes were bright emerald green, and his skin bore the wind-burned tan of a man who spent his days working the land.  I met his gaze for a second that seemed to stop time, and I felt a flutter of longing erupt in my gut. I found myself mesmerized by him.  He appeared a little embarrassed, for himself or for me, I wasn’t quite sure. The farmer turned to his son.

“Shut that filthy mouth o’ yours, apple boy!” he spat.  His large meaty hands twitched.  He sneered and glared at his son in such a wicked way I knew it should have been followed up by a sharp slap.  I worried that the young man would endure further public humiliation at the hands of his father, but the farmer moved his disdainful glare back to me.  I shuddered with fear. I had a feeling that he was saving his son’s punishment for later—away from the prying eyes of the townsfolk. I did not like that thought, not one bit.  I did not know why the farmer was drawn to me, but he sized me up with a sweeping glance of consideration, then wrinkled his nose as if he’d sniffed a revolting stench—I hadn’t bathed in two weeks, so maybe I did smell a tad ripe!

“Is ye a mute?”

I shook my head.  I would say, if anything, I was deeply traumatized by the unfortunate circumstance I’d found myself in, but no, I was certainly not a mute.  I just wasn’t used to a lowly man speaking to me so roughly. Generally, men who dared to address me knew their betters and behaved appropriately.  But here in Mallowick, in the province of Erias, I was no better than a beggar on the street.  There was no one I could call on for favors, no one who, on hearing my family name, would loan me coin for the stagecoach or a horse to ride to the city and send word to my father.  

When I’d first arrived in Mallowick, telling the truth of my station had gotten me dragged down an alley where my finger and earrings were stolen, and I’d received a beating.  This farmer from Blackdown Farm had no idea who I was, and I would not make the same mistake again.

I took a breath and stepped out of line.  “Master Irwin Harding, sir. You may call me Win.”  I winced at hearing my own soft, well-spoken voice, with my accent, the clipped tongue of Thorn.  I had not used my real name and wished I had not used my true voice either.  The fact that I was the son of the Duke of Thorn meant nothing here.  Thorn was west of Erias, on the other side of the Silua Montis Mountain range, and I doubted any of these illiterate souls in Mallowick knew anything other than that folklore passed around by storytellers.

The farmer stepped to stand in front of me.  He was a big, bulky bastard of a man and stank of stale sweat and baccy.  He had a grizzled podgy face and thick dark hair shot with strands of silver pulled into an untidy tail.  The tension grew between us, and I worried I’d spoken out of turn. I looked down and watched my bare, filthy feet as if they held endless fascination.  I’d seen men like him before. He had hands like shovels, and I’m sure they’d done damage in their time. My father would have used a man like him well, probably as muscle to intimidate the city folk while the Royal Chancellor did the rounds collecting taxes.  

Afraid and sweating with anxiety, I glanced up and away, unable to look at the farmer directly and meet his fierce piggy eyes.  Instead, I looked left and caught the eye of his son. I felt another flutter of attraction. I was grateful for it because it dampened my fear a little.  The glance the farmers’ son sent me back was sheepish, apologetic. He shrugged and put a finger to his lips, signaling for me to hush. I’m sure now he knew what was coming.

Master, is it?”  The farmer gave a raspy malevolent chuckle.  “Well, well, well aren’t ye an uppity little scrote.  Such a pretty voice an’ all. Have your balls dropped yet, lad?”  

The townsmen men standing around me shuffled on their feet and snickered uncomfortably.  I could tell from the tentative laughter they were afraid of this man too. My chest tightened with fury, and I felt the flare of heat rush to color my cheeks.  If in Thorn I would have put this fellow in his place, but as directed by the farmers’ handsome son, I held my tongue.  

I dared to look up as the farmer scratched his grizzled chin and consider me.  It was then I saw it. A chill iced my bones. On his chubby right index finger, he wore a gold ring set with a large red gemstone that I was aghast to see held the intaglio engraving of a rose thorn—my family’s seal.  How had this disgusting Pasturelands farmer come upon my family’s ring?  Anger curdled my gut, but I forced myself to focus and fixed my features so as not to alert the man to what I was looking at.  That ring was more precious than I could say. It was not set with any common gemstone, oh no, the setting was Star-fall.  The legend was that mortal tools could not cut the rich-red Star-fall stone.  The gemstone was shaped by sorcery, and the power that carved into the gem was stored inside it as if the Star-fall was a reservoir for the magic.  It was illegal for any other than the Twin Kings of Osia to own Star-fall.  The king’s men had scoured the Empire to remove all traces of the priceless gem from common and aristocratic hands and possessing it was a death sentence.  Did this ruffian have any idea what he wore?

Not getting a rise from me, the farmer stepped yet closer and found out for himself if my balls had dropped.  He reached for my privates and squeezed.

Ahh, ye got some big stones de’re al’right, boy,” he said with a filthy sneer.

“Done any labourin’ before, lad?”  My eyes watered.  I shook my head and winced as the pressure on my most sensitive parts rose.  I wanted to shout and push him away, punch him in that bristly pug face. I’d trained in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay, but that was of little use to me now that I had no sword and was cast as naught but a commoner myself.  I stood frozen to the spot with fear, my cock, and balls in the hand of this brutish man. I was sure that clutching my nethers was not the best way to test if I would be a good apple picker.  

The farmer let go, stepped back, and looked me over again like he was sizing up a prize pig.  I wanted to keel over, hold my sensitive parts and howl, but, with my eyes watering, I kept my back ramrod straight and looked past the farmer, using his son’s regretful, pretty green eyes as my focus.  

I appeared to be a boy, but I am nineteen and about to make my majority.  I have a tall, willowy frame, and little muscle to show for my near twenty summers.  Weeks before, I was clothed in the silken garb of a lordling, but all I wore now were my stinky silk britches and a once-white linen shirt.  I’d even had to sell my fine leather boots. My flaxen hair hung loosely to my shoulders and was bedraggled. My mother had always told me my hair shone like a golden halo.  I guessed that was no longer the case. I had not seen my reflection in two weeks so I could only imagine how frightful I appeared to onlookers. My circumstance was terrible, but I refused to let it defeat me.  I was a son of Thorn, I was a gentleman, damn it, and I was prepared to do whatever it took to do to find my way to my destination and seek justice for all the ill-luck that had befallen me.  

“Right, scrote, up on the wagon,” the farmer declared.  “We can always do wit a few extra scurrier’s fer the windfalls.”

I had no idea what that actually meant, but strangely relieved to be selected, I nodded subserviently and then, ducking my head to avoid the farmers’ glare, I scurried to the wagon where I surreptitiously gave my aching intimate parts a gentle rub.  

I’d heard from a fellow in the tavern that harvesting wheat at Robinswood Farm was backbreaking, as was digging root vegetables at Windy Oakes Farm.  He advised that apple picking was easy work and if I could get employment at Weatherby’s or Blackdown Farm, they paid good coin.  He said the mistress at Blackdown was particularly well-liked and always gave laborers a bread and cheese luncheon with last season’s cider.  I was so hungry that bread and cheese sounded like a banquet. The fellow had neglected to tell me that the farmer was a brute!

The farmers’ son met me by the wagon and offered to help me aboard.  For a moment, from the look of consideration in his eyes, I thought he could see past the disheveled state of me to the gentleman I’d once been.  But that was ridiculous. The farmers’ son hopped up onto the back of the wagon with dexterous athleticism, and then offered me his hands. I took them without a thought.  His warm touch and the strength in those work-roughened fingers twisted my gut into uncomfortable knots. He fixed my gaze as he gripped both of my hands and tugged me up as easily as if he were lifting feather down.  He pulled me closed and pressed me to his hard chest.

“Don’t back chat him or it’ll be the worst fer you,” he whispered the warning to my ear.  Alarmed, I eased back from him and cautiously met his eye for a split second. In the look he gave me I saw that the warning was well-meant.  Bewildered, I nodded in thanks and understanding. I had no idea why this stranger was looking out for me, but the fact he was warmed my heart.  I choked back a tear. No one had looked out for me over these past weeks, and I had been so terribly lonely. I’d learned some hard life lessons on this leg of my journey, and I’d come to understand that here my title was irrelevant, and without money I was suddenly invisible; therefore small kindnesses meant more than I could say.

My adventure into the provinces had been made to appease my father for my supposed ‘lack of direction.’  I’d become bored with my easy life in Thorn, and not intending to marry; I’d told my father that in-light of my upcoming twentieth Bloomsday I wanted to tour the Empire.  If I were to one-day become Duke of Thorn, I needed to know a little of the politics of each province and so, pleased with my initiative and happy to be rid of me for a while, he’d set me on my way.  I’d toured the provinces of Terria, Corvay, and Reuss and then continued to the province of Osia, spending time in the capital city Altea, at the court of the Twin Kings, Kristoff, and Fabian Von Harte.  With this journey to Erias, I was to have the full set of provinces under my belt.  But fate was not on my side.

On benches affixed to either side of the farmers’ wagon sat fourteen men morosely staring at their bare, filthy feet, not a word of chatter between them.  They each owned a small pack of belongings and a wrapped blanket that each had stowed beneath the bench. At this moment they were better-off than me, for I did not even have a blanket to my name.  There was space for me and five more, totaling twenty men. The farmer chose from the remaining laborers with less consideration than I had been afforded.

“Right…  I’ll take Allin, Jed, Arthur, Bartram, and Matty, that’ll do me fer the week,” he hollered decisively.

The week?  I thought I’d promised myself for a hard day’s labor?  But then again, I considered the harvesters who were sitting in the wagon, and yes, they appeared to have prepared for an overnight stay.  Confused, I sat down as the other laborers were pulled up onto the wagon by their comrades, and then we shuffled along the benches until we were all seated.  I noticed the shoulders of the remaining men in the market square sag a little in apparent relief as if some mighty weight had lifted from them. I didn’t understand it.  I thought they’d wanted to work?

The farmers’ son clambered over into the front of the wagon.  His father climbed on, the man’s bulk shaking the timbers of the rickety wagon as he settled on the bench beside him.  The son handed his father the ribbons, which the farmer greedily snatched up, and then with a fearsome bellow of “Geddup” and a thunderous whip crack, the large mottled grey workhorse began its cumbersome trot down the main street and onto the dusty road to Blackdown Farm.

 

 

About the Author

Isobel Starling spent most of her twenty-year professional career making art in Ireland.  She relocated to the UK and, faced with the dreaded artist’s creative block, Isobel started to write and found she loved writing more than making art.

Isobel is currently working on her nineteenth book.  

“As You Wish” (Shatterproof Bond#1) narrated by Gary Furlong won the Audiobook Reviewer Award for Romance 2018.  It is the first M/M Romance audiobook to win a mainstream audiobook award.

 

Author Links

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Decent Fellows Press

 

 

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Release Blitz – Irresistible Indigo (D’Vaire, Book 9) by Jessamyn Kingley

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Irresistible Indigo (D’Vaire, Book 9)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

Genre/s: M/M Fantasy Romance, M/M Paranormal Romance

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Release Date: November 15, 2018

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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

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Blurb

A young wizard, a noble duke, and the potion that changes D’Vaire forever.

Since arriving at the Draconis Court of D’Vaire at the age of sixteen, Idris has done everything he can think of to make his new family proud of him. After five years of challenging work, he is finally poised to reach the highest rank within the Spectra Wizardry. The only glaring thing missing is his mate. While he may be young, Idris wants to share his heart with his other half, so he asks Fate to send him a nice dragon who will be kind to him and his familiar. He does not want to be demanding but Idris knows without him he won’t be complete.

Duke Macardle “Mac” Stenetdraconis’s days are centered around his amazing grandparents who raised him. When his grandfather suggests he apply for a new duke position at Court D’Vaire, he is intrigued. It is a place that has opened its doors as a sanctuary and he’s drawn to the idea of helping others. When he arrives, he finds himself with a small dragon familiar on his lap. Minutes later, the owner of that familiar saunters through the door and Mac’s heart is instantly hooked on the irresistible wizard. Determined to make Idris his, the pair soon find themselves tested by life. Their love turns out to the anchor Mac cannot do without while Idris opens the door to a new future for his family.

 

 

Excerpt

“Does anyone have a ball or anything?” Mac asked.

Idris lifted a hand and within seconds, an indigo sphere appeared. He tossed it to Mac, who bounced it in Greggory’s direction. When the familiar used his head to return it, Roger flew off his shoulder and landed on the floor, so he could play too. Two of the young men Mac was sworn to protect were sitting at a round table placed in the office designed for Delaney and Idris. The sorcerers were painstakingly going through the two boxes of warlock books and scrolls found in the Arch Lich’s library. Dra’Kaedan insisted the two get first crack at everything since they were still seeking research ideas. Duff was presumably in his room working on his own studies.

It left Mac with barely anything to do. When Mac discovered how little he knew of sorcery, he went to Aleksander and explained his problem. He wasn’t content to spend his days sitting around. If he was going to oversee the protection of two wizards, he needed to be able to assist them in some way. Aleksander agreed and called the Prism Wizard. Vadimas was receptive to the problem, and Mac was expecting his own box, full of basic magic books, to arrive soon. He might not be able to cast but he could learn, and he was determined to be an asset to Delaney and Idris. If they weren’t trying to reach the pinnacle of their education and power, he would’ve asked them for help, but Mac wasn’t going to get in their way.

In the meantime, Mac could be close to them and entertain the cute dragons who were taking to playing with the ball Idris provided with enthusiasm. He tossed it again and cringed as the two familiars crashed into each other and wiped out. “Sorry, guys,” he offered. Growls were hurled in his direction, but they allowed him to help them off the floor and both waited patiently until he threw their toy again.

“I think I might’ve found something interesting,” Idris announced.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“It’s written in archaic warlock. I need Dra’Kaedan to translate some of this. It’s a language I’m still learning, but what I can read is really intriguing.”

“Are you going to tell us why?” Delaney inquired.

“Not until I’m sure I am reading this right,” Idris remarked as he stood. “I’m going to go find him.”

“I’m coming too,” Delaney said.

“We’ll play ball later,” Mac told his scaly friends. Roger soared up to his shoulder as soon as Mac was on his feet, and Greggory flew behind them all as they headed toward the office down the hall which housed the Coven of Warlocks. Inside they found Dra’Kaedan, his twin, and his familiar.

“Do you have a minute, Dra’Kaedan?” Idris asked with the scroll held protectively in his hand.

“For you guys, always. What’s up?”

“I found something I can only read parts of. Can you translate the rest?”

Dra’Kaedan took it from Idris’s hand. The small blond’s eyes grew wide with shock as they moved down the parchment in his grasp. When he was finished, he handed it to his brother. Dre’Kariston’s reaction was the same as his twin’s; then it was passed to Renny.

“This can’t be real,” Renny declared when he was done. “I mean really. This can’t be fucking real. How’s this possible? Because if it is, my brain’s going to explode.”

 

About the Author

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

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

Visit her website 

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Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of five

copies of any ebook (reader’s choice) from the D’Vaire series (1 – 8)

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Cover Reveal – Irresistible Indigo (D’Vaire, Book 9) by Jessamyn Kingley

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Irresistible Indigo (D’Vaire, Book 9)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

Genre/s: M/M Fantasy Romance, M/M Paranormal Romance

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Release Date: November 15, 2018

 

Blurb

A young wizard, a noble duke, and the potion that changes D’Vaire forever.

Since arriving at the Draconis Court of D’Vaire at the age of sixteen, Idris has done everything he can think of to make his new family proud of him. After five years of challenging work, he is finally poised to reach the highest rank within the Spectra Wizardry. The only glaring thing missing is his mate. While he may be young, Idris wants to share his heart with his other half, so he asks Fate to send him a nice dragon who will be kind to him and his familiar. He does not want to be demanding but Idris knows without him he won’t be complete.

Duke Macardle “Mac” Stenetdraconis’s days are centered around his amazing grandparents who raised him. When his grandfather suggests he apply for a new duke position at Court D’Vaire, he is intrigued. It is a place that has opened its doors as a sanctuary and he’s drawn to the idea of helping others. When he arrives, he finds himself with a small dragon familiar on his lap. Minutes later, the owner of that familiar saunters through the door and Mac’s heart is instantly hooked on the irresistible wizard. Determined to make Idris his, the pair soon find themselves tested by life. Their love turns out to the anchor Mac cannot do without while Idris opens the door to a new future for his family.

 

 

About the Author

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

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

Visit her website 

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She loves to engage with readers there.

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New Release – Orc Haven by Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus #FF #fantasy

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Orc Haven

Author: Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Anna Tiferet Sikorska | tiferetdesign.com

Genre/s: Fantasy FF Romance

Heat Rating:  1 flame

Length: 73 000 words /225 pages

It is a standalone story.

Release Date: October 13, 2018

Goodreads Link

 

Buy Links

Amazon US 

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Blurb

The great war is over. The Dark Queen has fallen, slain by a dwarven champion as the prophecies foretold.

Still struggling with her transition from farmer’s daughter to Hero of the Free Races, Irma barters her newfound fame for the power to change things for the betterment of all – including her former enemies.

With the Dark Queen’s death, her subjugated orcs either succumbed to madness or were slain in battle. Only few orcs remain, and Irma has sworn to protect them, to help them find their place among the Free Races. One of them is Vash, a breeding mother from the pits, searching for a new home among the ruins of her old world with a tiny horde of orc children in tow.

When they meet, they discover that despite their differences in size, upbringing and race, they share the same hopes for the future. And while the odds they face seem overwhelming, the feelings growing between them may be strong enough to overcome them all.

From Rainbow-Award-winning authors Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus comes a sweet, happy f/f romantasy that begins where other epic fantasy novels end, a stand-alone novel about courage, hope, and the importance of family.

 

Excerpt

Vash sniffed the pale blue berry. It didn’t smell of much, but that might have been due to the fact that her fingers smelled so much stronger, sour with sweat. Cautiously, she bit into it and nearly spit it out when its sharp taste exploded on her tongue, tangy enough to prick like needles. She had to force herself to keep her mouth closed and wait. It didn’t burn, so that was good. Her only way of telling whether it was poisonous was to trust her instincts, and so far, they had proven surprisingly accurate.

Like those roots she had found her maggots chewing on once. She had told them to keep away, but ‘no’, they just had to. A few hours later, they had been whimpering about their belly aches. They had been lucky nothing worse had happened. They could have died. Or they could have been back in the pits, where they would have been thrashed – first for disobeying and then for whining.

With a shudder, Vash forced that thought away. They were all lucky to have gotten out.

She swallowed the bit of berry and waited for that queasy feeling she got whenever she tried something inedible. Surprisingly few things out here were. The orcs‘  fabled constitution apparently also applied to being able to eat almost anything. Until their escape from the pits, she had never eaten anything but the slop cooked in their huge, grimy kettles. All the food delivered to them from outside went into those pots and was cooked until it didn’t taste of much at all. Even when their guardians had been set on slim rations, they had still received plenty. Vash were more important to the war effort than some stupid grunt that could easily be replaced. Vash were who made those replacements. They were the rarest kind of orc – those who could breed.

Her stomach grumbled angrily, but it was a pang of hunger, not nausea. Vash smiled. The berries were good and there were several bushes of them. A single one didn’t bear many fruits, but all together, they would feed the maggots tonight. And, if she managed to reign them in, they might even have some for tomorrow. She popped the other half into her mouth, and this time, she welcomed the taste. She started picking the bushes clean, gathering the berries into the makeshift bundle she had made of a tattered cloak.

Her own clothes were a ragged mix, the simple, coarse shift she had been wearing in the pits and whatever she had picked up since – a pair of sturdy leather pants that were a little too short, and a thick, padded tunic which she wore over the shift. Her lower arms and her feet were wrapped in rags both for warmth and protection. She’d even found a pair of fitting boots on a corpse a few days ago.

 

 

About the Authors

Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus are a couple currently living their happily ever after in the very heart of Germany, under the stern but loving surveillance of their cat.

Both of them are voracious but picky readers, they love telling stories and drinking tea, good food and the occasional violent movie. Together, they write novels of adventure and romance, hoping to share a little of their happiness with their readers.

An artist by heart, Beryll was writing stories even before she knew what letters were. As easily inspired as she is frustrated, her own work is never good enough (in her eyes). A perfectionist in the best and worst sense of the word at the same time and the driving creative force of the duo.

An entertainer and craftsman in his approach to writing, Osiris is the down-to-earth, practical part of our duo. Broadly interested in almost every subject and skill, with a sunny mood and caring personality, he strives to bring the human nature into focus of each of his stories.

 

Author Links

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Twitter: @brackhaus  

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Release Blitz – Dra’Kaedan’s Coven (D’Vaire, Book 1) by Jessamyn Kingley #gay #fantasy #paranormal #romance #giveaway #KindleUnlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Dra’Kaedan’s Coven (D’Vaire, Book 1)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Genre/s: M/M Fantasy Romance, M/M Paranormal Romance

Length:  65 000 words/287 pages

Release Date: August 30, 2018

It’s the first book in the series so it can be read by itself but the story arc continues in the next seven books now available.

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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

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Blurb

Dra’Kaedan of Leolinnia was born with a mark of Fate proclaiming that someday he would be the Grand Warlock. Standing in his way is Carvallius of Mallent who is desperate to rule the warlocks. His granddaughter Latarian has little magic so Carvallius concocts a plan to kidnap Dra’Kaedan to steal his power. After carving spells into Dra’Kaedan’s back, he begins life anew as Latarian’s familiar whom she calls Ayden. With no memory of his past, the pair are shuffled off to a cottage while Carvallius enlists the help of a brutal elven tribe to rob Dra’Kaedan of his future title. The tactic backfires, and the Coven of Warlocks is destroyed.

Minutes after Brogan shifts into a dragon for the first time, his best friend is banished from their court. Loyal to the core, Brogan follows Aleksander through the castle gates of their old home. Fate turns Aleksander into a king and Court D’Vaire is established. Considered cursed by dragonkind the D’Vaire’s are ostracized. After six centuries of loneliness Brogan leaves his family desperate to find his mate. He has no idea Fate has intervened and sent his other half right to Aleksander’s doorstep.

As a familiar Ayden struggles between a voice inside him that insists he is something more and Latarian’s stringent set of rules. He finds himself torn as he and Brogan try to find common ground. Can the pair find love and will Dra’Kaedan find out his true destiny before it’s too late?

 

 

Excerpt

“Before you met me, did you ever try and imagine what your mate would be like?” Ayden asked.

“Sometimes. I’m shallow, so I wanted him to be good-looking. I like to laugh, so I hoped he’d have a good sense of humor. I dreamed of someone who’d love my family because my preference is to be with them. I consider myself very lucky because I got a mate who has everything on my shopping list,” Brogan replied. “How about you?”

“I honestly didn’t consider it. We were trapped so long, my only thoughts were about getting out of that cottage. I suppose if I had to make a list, the one thing I’d put on it would be to have someone taller than me. Life isn’t easy for us short people.”

“I know, I’ve seen your struggles with shelves, but I like your height. You fit just right in my arms.”

“Kind of cheesy,” Ayden decided.

“How about I love the delicious fit of your sexy, toned physique against the tall manliness of mine?”

“Too wordy.”

“Okay, last choice. Your body feels amazing against me.”

“Still has some cheese factor, but I’ll take it,” Ayden declared.

“Brat.”

“I have no regrets,” Ayden informed him.

His dragon grinned. “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

“We all have to be good at something. I’m learning to be excellent at saying whatever comes to mind.”

“You’re a good kisser,” Brogan countered. “You could spend more time doing that and less time being bratty.”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying, but my mate’s a pain in the ass and doesn’t give me much opportunity.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you wait for him to make all the moves?”

Ayden was dumbstruck. That was exactly what he’d been doing. He couldn’t believe he’d let Brogan dictate their progress until the previous night, when he’d finally demanded that the man give him more. If life was about embracing what he wanted, Ayden craved nothing more than Brogan.

Without a word, Ayden leaned forward and kissed his mate. It was no gentle peck—his tongue dueled with Brogan’s, and the dragon took control. He hauled Ayden close and massaged his back with his large paws as their mouths made love. Ayden wound his arms around Brogan’s neck as moans tumbled past his lips. Long before Ayden was ready, Brogan pulled away.

“I like it when you take charge,” Brogan told him.

“I wasn’t finished.”

“You keep kissing me like that, and I’m going to forget we’re in the living room.”

“Please, Madeline and Larissa make out in here all the time.”

Brogan’s brow furrowed in irritation. “Good for them. I don’t like sitting in here making out. My dick’s pressing against my zipper, and it fucking hurts.”

Ayden jumped off the couch. “Let’s go to my room then.”

“Taking it slow, remember that?” Brogan reminded him from where he still sat on the sofa.

“Damn it, why did we agree to something so stupid?” Ayden demanded and slapped his hands onto his hips.

Brogan narrowed his eyes in frustration as he stood. “Because you have no experience.”

“I’m over six centuries old. How long are you going to make me wait?”

“Long enough to make sure you’re ready.”

Tilting his head back, Ayden’s eyes met an angry set of navy ones, but he was an expert on what he was ready for, and he wasn’t going to tolerate anyone else making rules or guidelines for him. He’d had enough of that in his lifetime. “I think I know when I’m ready.”

“How? Huh? You’ve never been in a relationship, so how do you know?”

“I know myself, don’t I?” Ayden yelled.

“What the hell’s going on in here?” Aleksander asked as he stalked into the living room.

Ayden was lost in his anger and he didn’t think, he just acted. Lifting his finger, he aimed it in Brogan’s direction. “We’re both hard, and he won’t do a damn thing about it.”

“I’m out,” Aleksander responded as he turned on his heel and exited in the same direction he’d just come from. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me. You two can figure this one out on your own.”

There was a tense silence in the living room for several minutes; then Brogan bent over in half from the force of his laughter.

It made heat bloom in Ayden’s cheeks. “I can’t believe I said that to him.”

Brogan straightened, and their eyes met. “He’s heard worse. Don’t worry. Look, I know you want more, but we need to stick to the plan. This is too important to make mistakes.”

“I’m ready for more.”

“How about I’ll allow kissing and maybe a little more to be determined on a case-by-case basis,” Brogan offered as he took a step closer to Ayden and grinned.

Bridging the distance between them, Ayden walked forward until their toes bumped. “You’ll allow? It doesn’t work that way unless you want to be covered in oozing sores.”

“I think that’s more disgusting than the enormous damage you wanted to do to my ass earlier.”

“Give me one of those pecks you’re so fond of, and let’s go get a snack. We can talk about that little more you mentioned,” Ayden said as he held out his hand.

Brogan grabbed it and leaned down to touch their lips together. “We ate lunch less than thirty minutes ago.”

“Do you have a point?”

 

About the Author 

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

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

Visit her website

Follow her on Facebook.

She loves to engage with readers there.

 

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Giveaway 

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one of FIVE copies of Sentinel’s Dagger (D’Vaire #2) AND one of FIVE copies of Vengeance from the Dark (D’Vaire #3)

 

 

 

 

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Book Blast – A Thread in Time (The Chronicles of Darius #14) by Jess Thomas #gayromance #sciencefiction #fantasy #KindleUnlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: A Thread in Time (The Chronicles of Darius #14)

Author: Jess Thomas

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Jess Thomas

Genre/s: LGBT, Fantasy, Science-Fiction, Romance

Length: 86,456 words/472 pages

Release Date:

Add on Goodreads 

 

Blurb

Trend is finally back with his clan and the man he loves, and the clan has grown into something that even the Jewel couldn’t imagine. He has a family that loves, cares for, and protects him. They will do anything to keep him safe, even go to the fourth. When Zihen, Vega’s mate, is taken, some of the elders of the clan have no choice but to try to get him back. Vega is determined to get him back and is bent on revenge, even if it means his life. 

Meanwhile, Darius is being cared for by Gak the family friend and physician in his medical facility. Vien, Issaguard, and Chin-Me are dispatched to watch over him while the search for Zihen goes on. The rest of the family left on Eiravia have taken the precaution of staying in the great library for safety in case of trouble, and have to deal with the uncertainty of what their mates are facing in the fourth while coping with personal demons. 

Come be a part of these adventures and more in Darius’s journey in A Thread in Time!

 

WATCH THE TRAILER VIDEO HERE

 

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US

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Excerpt

This is my continuing journal about the people I love and of my life. I have a large family, and even though I don’t talk about all them in a particular journal or just mention someone once or twice, they are around me, interact with me, and I love each and every one of them. If I wrote everything that everyone said, my journals would fill our library shelves. Some have said they haven’t read very many books in my style; that it’s hard to get used to. I invite you to read a few of my chronicles and become part of my world. Be part of my family, because you see, this isn’t just a story, it’s a celebration of life.

My name is Darius or for those who knew me on Eiravia where I was born, Paden. It used to seem strange that I had two names but now it seems right. I don’t think I’d give up either name because it would be a part of my life that I’d have to leave behind, a part of my life that will always be precious to me.

I was taken off the planet of Eiravia with two other children, the last three born on a planet of immortals. Maybe it was nature’s way of saying we couldn’t populate the universe, maybe it kept us unique, or maybe it was just a fluke. They shoved us on a ship bound for our sister planet Earth to forget who we were and where we came from, but home always has a pull. Together with Cas, Garrick, and I made it back home and realized where we belonged all along.

 

About the Author

Jess Thomas was born in the mid-west and she has a natural love for nature and animals. A gentle creature born to loving parents who believed in seeing the world for all its beauty, she learned the imperfections in life were something to be treasured and seen as a learning experience. An artist from an early age, she went to art school where she got a degree in drawing and painting, photography, and in Art Education. In 2009 she laid down her paintbrush and she picked up writing and channeling her creative energy in a fresh direction. A new writer, she pours sensitivity and her love of the world she has created into her emotions and the characters who live there.

 

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Cover Reveal – Dra’Kaedan’s Coven (D’Vaire, Book 1) by Jessamyn Kingley

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Dra’Kaedan’s Coven (D’Vaire, Book 1)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Genre/s: M/M Fantasy Romance, M/M Paranormal Romance

Release Date: August 30, 2018

Blurb

Dra’Kaedan of Leolinnia was born with a mark of Fate proclaiming that someday he would be the Grand Warlock. Standing in his way is Carvallius of Mallent who is desperate to rule the warlocks. His granddaughter Latarian has little magic so Carvallius concocts a plan to kidnap Dra’Kaedan to steal his power. After carving spells into Dra’Kaedan’s back, he begins life anew as Latarian’s familiar whom she calls Ayden. With no memory of his past, the pair are shuffled off to a cottage while Carvallius enlists the help of a brutal elven tribe to rob Dra’Kaedan of his future title. The tactic backfires, and the Coven of Warlocks is destroyed.

Minutes after Brogan shifts into a dragon for the first time, his best friend is banished from their court. Loyal to the core, Brogan follows Aleksander through the castle gates of their old home. Fate turns Aleksander into a king and Court D’Vaire is established. Considered cursed by dragonkind the D’Vaire’s are ostracized. After six centuries of loneliness Brogan leaves his family desperate to find his mate. He has no idea Fate has intervened and sent his other half right to Aleksander’s doorstep.

As a familiar Ayden struggles between a voice inside him that insists he is something more and Latarian’s stringent set of rules. He finds himself torn as he and Brogan try to find common ground. Can the pair find love and will Dra’Kaedan find out his true destiny before it’s too late?

About the Author

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

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

Visit her website

Follow her on Facebook  She loves to engage with readers there.

READ MORE ABOUT JESSAMYN IN THIS AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT POST

 

 

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Release Blitz – Twenty-One Arrow Salute by Kasia Bacon #NewAdult #gay #fantasy #LGBT #KindleUnlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

 

Book Title: Twenty-One Arrow Salute (Order Series #Book 2.5)

Author: Kasia Bacon

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Ying Draws

Genre/s: NA Fantasy

Length: 23 000 words/ 100 pages

Release Date: June 11, 2018

Other stories in the series: The Mutt #1, The Highlander #2

Goodreads

 

Blurb

An archer’s heart is a hard target to hit… 

Verhan Tŭrryés of Black Mountain is a handful.

Freshly enlisted in the Highland Regiment, he does all he can to steer clear of responsibility and commitment. Just not his cup of mead, that. Loose of tongue and even looser of morals, he rarely misses an opportunity to get into trouble—and into the other archers’ knickers, too.

In a unit composed almost entirely of Dark Elves, Hernan Seinnés, with his green eyes and auburn hair, is an outsider. When Verhan, up the creek again, is blackmailed into helping Hernan, he never expects to fall for him. But during the long hours spent training Hernan for the Honour Guard, feelings strike the Highlander right in the heart—and with the force of an arrow.

Unversed in relationships, Verhan finally plucks up enough courage to tell Hernan how he feels, only to drive the Asirhwӱnian away instead. If Verhan can swallow his pride, he might get one last chance to show Hernan what he means to him—and maybe this time he can hit the mark. 

 

 

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US

Amazon UK 

 

Excerpt

Taking a step too wide, Hernan faltered at the very end, finishing the last form atthe wrong angle. The error turned his stance rigid, his poise evaporating before my eyes.

“Not bad. For an Asirhwӱnian,” I grinned and winked. “Let’s repeat it a few more times without stopping. I want to try something. Close your eyes and picture the forms in your mind. I’ll be behind you, guiding your steps, alright?”

Hernan nodded.

Slowly, I approached him from the rear and placed my hands on his hips.

That first time I touched him, my heart downright assailed my rib cage, beating out a rhythm violent enough to cause me internal damage. To my dismay, I felt more riled up by that innocent contact than the last time I had my trousers around my ankles and a bulky sergeant pressed against the wall. Silently swearing, I tried shutting down those thoughts and refocusing.

And so we moved in a half circle, gliding through the air, in tune with one another.

The sweet spiciness of his scent reminded me of darhê. Hyperawareof the warmth emanating from his body, I lost all sense of time. It might’ve been a few minutes or an hour before we came to a stop.

As if bewitched, both of us remained still. It was Hernan who eventually turned his head to the side. He looked up at me over his shoulder.

The air seemed to shimmer around him, the edges of my vision distorted. I took in his smooth, flushed skin embellished with a few freckles. His slightly parted lips, plump and rosy. His wide, pale eyes, as green as a forest fern. All the colours that defined him filled me with a sense of wonder.

 

 

About the Author 

A linguist and an avid reader with a particular fondness for fantasy and paranormal genres, KASIA BACON lives in London with her husband. When not tearing her hair out over a translating project, she writes stories about the shenanigans of emotionally constipated assassins and sexy Elves. Otherwise, she can be found shaking her loins at a Zumba class, binging on anime or admiring throwing knives on Pinterest. She has a mild coffee and lemon tart addiction. A lover of MMA and Muay Thai, she also enjoys nature and the great outdoors. She dreams of becoming independently wealthy, leaving the city and moving into her wooden mini-manor—located in the heart of stunning forests resembling those of the Elven Country depicted in her tales.

Sign up for Kasia’s mailing list to receive freebies and updates and learn about new releases.

 

 

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Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of five ebook copies from Kasia Bacon’s backlist, including the new release.

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Blog Tour – Kickstarter for Themensha Graphic Novel Project by MxKnowitall #kickstarter #graphicnovel #dementia #LGBT

BLOG TOUR

JUNE 1 – 10

Book Title:   Themensha

Author/Artist:  MxKnowitall (a pen name of Morven Moeller)

Publisher:  Dreampunk Press

Genre/s: SciFi/Fantasy, Slice-of-Life, LGBT, Speculative Fiction, Fiction for a Cause.

Estimated Length: 120  pages

 

 

 

Themensha is a graphic novel written and drawn by a young artist in memory of their grandmother and for Dementia Awareness. Morven Moeller (pen name MxKnowitall) is the author and an artist who creates gender non-conforming art. The book is based on real events and in memory of their grandmother.  It’s about a grandmother with Dementia/Alzheimer’s and her interactions and legacy left on her transgender/non-binary grandchild. People will ‘pre-order’ the book through the Kickstarter for the first run. The publisher said they’d double the print run for anything over 100 orders. The author plans to sell any additional books in the Dreampunk Press online store or in-person at conventions (which they go to regularly to sell their artwork).  Morven is hoping for at least 60 pre-orders, or even better, 250 because it’ll be a better print quality. However unlike other pre-orders, these will cost the same as the actual book, $12 (plus shipping).

 

 

 

Blurb

Themensha explores the themes of dementia, Alzheimer’s disease, LGBT acceptance, family, and purpose.  Follow Leigh through the last month of their gramma’s life, where they find emotional strength, insecurity, and purpose.

 

The purpose of this Blog Tour is to promote the Kickstarter project running from June 1 – July 1.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT AND RECEIVE

AN EBOOK, SIGNED PAPERBACK, DIGITAL ART PACK, OR FOIL POSTER PACK

depending on how much you pledge.

See the link for more details

THE KICKSTARTER LINK  

 

 

Excerpt

“It’s sad, but it’s okay that it’s sad.  Because my love from my gramma becomes compassion for others in need.  Because my love for my gramma becomes advice for a friend. Because my love for my gramma becomes a new closeness to others.  And it’s love like that that heals and mends and brings us together. So, not a drop of my love from my gramma is wasted.”

 

A black and white Page from the graphic novel

 

 

About the Author

MxKnowitall, aka Morven Moeller, is a young artist out of Hampton Roads Area of Virginia. They are agender, preferring they/them pronouns, however they don’t consider that a huge part of their identity and other pronouns are also acceptable.  They have a degree in Applied Mathematics and are finishing graduate study in Mission Analysis and Engineering. This may seem somewhat peculiar, but most things about Morven are peculiar. They have multiple LGBT novellas spanning from middle-grade to new adult genres and currently eat a lot of rice and veggies due to a cacophony of medically-necessitated dietary restrictions. They are a huge anime and animation fan, and that appreciation is often an influence on their work. Their interests often include LGBT topics, autism awareness, anime fandom, fanfiction, and their loving friends and family.

 

 

Social Media Links

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Author’s Amazon Page

 

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