Aug 27

Release Blitz: Payback by Alec Nortan (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Filed under Book Blitz, Giveaways

Title: Payback

Author: Alec Nortan

Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: August 27, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 45800

Genre: Contemporary Crime, crime/mystery, new adult, kidnapping, ransom, high school, detective, family drama

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Synopsis

When Josh’s sister, Cherry, is kidnapped, her family decides to follow the kidnapper’s instructions and pay the ransom. But when Josh gets attacked and robbed before freeing his sister, they have no choice but to call for the FBI’s help.

For Agent Phisburry, this is just another kidnapping. Once she successfully gets the girl back to her parents, safe and sound, the difficult task to find the kidnapper—who managed to get away with the ransom despite all the tracking devices—begins. She has to find who’s telling the truth, and who’s lying, to uncover what everyone’s trying to keep secret.

Excerpt

Payback
Alec Nortan © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Beep beep beep.

Josh stopped the shrill wake-up call with a brusque slap on the top of the clock radio, a red and blue plastic cube he’d had for as long as he could remember. He hopped out of bed and walked to the bathroom for the shower he needed to make his brain work again. One perk of having rich parents: all the bedrooms in the house had their own bathroom attached. His wasn’t the biggest nor the fanciest, but it had all the equipment he required. And it was needed, judging by how much time his sister spent in hers. If they’d had to share one, he’d be late to school every day. Probably even late for lunch…

It had gotten a little better lately. A boyfriend seemed to be a good enough incentive for her to rush around.

Josh groaned at the thought and opened the closet to choose what he would wear that day. Not that he had much choice. His closet was big, bigger than his bathroom even, but most of the shelves he looked at were desperately empty. His parents might be rich, but they believed that a boy his age had to learn how to be independent. They had stopped buying him clothes three years ago when he had turned fourteen. His birthday present had been five hundred bucks and an interview for a job after school, which he refused to go to. And of course the news that, from then on, if he wanted something, he would have to pay for it with his own money. All he would get would be a roof over his head, food, school tuition, and a few basics, although all these luxuries were not free. His father had set a monthly rent that Josh had to pay.

Josh didn’t even try to haggle. He knew it would be hopeless. His father’s threats were never empty ones, and when he made a decision, there was no way to sway him. So, instead, Josh cut down on all his unnecessary spending. He stopped going out with his friends, as booze and gas weren’t free. His taste for designer clothes got crushed too. The only expense he did not give up was the little gifts for the girlfriend he was dating then—without them, he knew she would leave him, and he needed her around even if their relationship was a fraud. It was a cover-up to hide the real him from everyone, girlfriend included. No one could learn about his sexual preferences. It would only make everything worse.

Despite his efforts, the money his parents had given him was gone before he noticed it. He eventually got the job his father had referred him to, and his first paycheck came as a real relief, but it wasn’t enough to prevent him from having to choose between food and clothes a week later. The need for new underwear and shirts was too urgent, and he decided he could skip a few meals.

Josh learned the hard way, but he learned. As he outgrew things or wore them out, the heaps of branded clothes were slowly replaced by much cheaper versions, and only when necessary. He stopped buying his girlfriend presents and, unsurprisingly, got dumped. At least she had the decency not to lie about the reason why she did it. Josh’s situation didn’t get worse for losing her. If anything, it improved. He didn’t have to force himself to buy ridiculously expensive gifts anymore, and as he was now working, he didn’t need another alibi. He was simply too busy to get into another relationship.

He’d never had any reason to be popular at school. He wasn’t good at sports; he was average looking; his grades were not the best. He had never cared about all that before: his parents were rich, and at school, that alone opened a lot of doors. Doors that closed again one after another when his access to a seemingly endless amount of money vanished. Almost overnight, he lost his social rank and merged into the anonymous mass.

He chose gray cargo pants and a faded blue T-shirt. The cuts weren’t great, but time had given the fabric a slightly worn-out touch that he liked. The pants would never compare to a pair of the designer jeans he used to wear, but he didn’t look too bad in them. A little gel to smooth his short-cut brown hair, and he was decent enough to start the day.

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Meet the Author

Alec Nortan is a French social services worker. Though he learned English at school, he chooses this language to write in. His works are gay-related fictions, varying from young adult, science fiction or fantasy adventure, to romance.

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Aug 27

Release Blitz: More Perfect by Daniel Janaka (Excerpt & Giveaway)

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Title: More Perfect

Author: Daniel Janaka

Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: August 27, 2018

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 59900

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, reunited, drug/alcohol use, infidelity

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Synopsis

Jimmy has already grown used to being alone in his mid-twenties. One failed attempt at romance after another has left him both weary and defiantly independent. That is, until Luke stumbles into his life, flashing his adorably crooked smile and wielding his boyish charm. Jimmy stands no chance against the boy of his dreams.

All seems picture perfect, but as the dust settles and the reality of day-to-day life takes over, Jimmy’s happily ever after begins to suffocate. Differences arise and disagreements become the norm as Jimmy and Luke navigate the sometimes-troubling waters of early adulthood.

Excerpt

More Perfect
Daniel Janaka © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
“I never do this right. It’s like every time is the first time for me.”

Jimmy struggled to quiet his shaking hands as Luke took a drag from the bowl, resting his free hand on the steering wheel. Jimmy had fantasized about being close to him for weeks, but the confidence he’d so naturally possessed in his daydreams was nowhere to be found, all the charisma and charm replaced instead with a resounding fear that shot through him like an electric charge of restlessness. His leg fidgeted, bobbing up and down to its own chaotic rhythm. His whole body trembled.

“It’s freezing in here,” he noted, hoping to hide his nerves behind the chill.

“Sorry, it takes a while for the heat to warm up.” Luke reached for the air vent and adjusted its direction, guiding it toward Jimmy. “That should help.”

Luke pulled another waft of smoke deep into his lungs, holding it in for a few seconds before gently releasing it into the air. Jimmy watched out of the corner of his eye, trying not to stare but unable to look away. Luke’s adorably lanky arms remained suspended for a moment as he emptied his lungs. His skin was pale, his nostrils highlighted by a soft pink glow. His shaggy hair crowned his boyish frame, an unorchestrated mound of waves and curls.

The streetlight above flickered, struggling to illuminate the quaint Brooklyn neighborhood, abnormally free of any distraction. No pedestrians, no traffic, none of the usual late-night clamor. The hybrid cinema-bar was only a block ahead. Its sign shone in the distance as Jimmy peered through the dirty windshield.

A group of rowdy men exited, interrupting the silence with their laughter as one man pulled out a cigarette before passing the pack along. The twenty-minute intermission between screenings provided a welcome opportunity to grab a smoke, use the bathroom, or be alone with a dangerously captivating new friend.

It had been a challenge to quiet his overactive mind while trapped in the dark theater—sitting so close, feeling the accidental graze of Luke’s arm against his own. He had been forced to keep his eyes fixed on the screen ahead as he struggled to absorb the subtitles that fired off one after another while his mind ran in circles, left only to imagine those puffy eyes surrounded by soft dark circles like remnants of a constant lack of sleep. When the first film had reached its finale—the score rising in an unnecessarily epic crescendo—the lights slowly rose, illuminating the sparsely filled space.

Jimmy hid a yawn as Luke leaned in and whispered, “I don’t want to sound like a freak, so of course no pressure, but I have some pot in my car if you want to smoke a little before the next one. It might be more fun to watch it with a buzz.”

It didn’t exactly fit the construct of what Jimmy had in mind for the evening, but the warmth of Luke’s breath as it grazed against his ear thwarted any desire to refuse. It had, however, been some time since his last encounter with the unpredictable herb. He grew concerned about what he might do or say while stoned, fearful that the smallest dent in his armor of coolness could send Luke running back to Jersey.

Jimmy took the pipe, silently commanding his hands to cease their incessant shaking. His fingers grazed Luke’s in the exchange.

“Just pull it in, and let it sit in your lungs for a while before you let it out.” Luke reached over and took Jimmy’s hand, guiding it around the pipe in the right direction. His fingers were long and slender but knotted at the knuckles; his fingernails short and frayed, jagged around the edges. He placed Jimmy’s thumb over the small hole at the side of the pipe. “You’ve got to cover the hole when you pull in at first,” he explained.

Jimmy willingly took instruction, delighted to be touched. He pulled in a small, apprehensive drag and waited for a moment, holding the smoke in his lungs as he had been instructed to do. He glanced over at Luke who to his surprise was smiling in approval. Jimmy smiled back as he admired Luke’s childlike expression, more a grin than a smile whereby only the left side of his mouth was raised. There was something sinister about it, devious even, but charming. Steadily, Jimmy exhaled.

“There you go,” Luke exclaimed. “You got it.”

Jimmy smiled and flicked the lighter again, already a pro. He pulled in another drag, this one bigger.

“Now we’re talking,” cheered Luke.

A ball of fire barreled down Jimmy’s throat, scorching the terrain as it made its way to his lungs and filled them beyond capacity. He hurried to exhale but began coughing, his insides erupting as heavy clouds of smoke burst out. He heaved for air between attacks, desperately trying to regain composure.

“It’s—I took—oh, man.” His eyes filled to the brim.

Luke chuckled and placed a caring hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, holding back his amusement while he offered support.

The coughs grew fainter and the outburst subsided. Jimmy’s breathing returned to normal. He dried his eyes and sat upright, eager to recover. His head was lighter. Time began to crawl. He passed the bowl back to Luke who received it with another half smile before the glass vessel met his mouth. Luke cradled it with only the tips of his long, delicate fingers. His rosy lips puckered as he released another effortless stream of smoke. He moved with such precision, his methodical gestures casting a spell on Jimmy as he imagined Luke’s moist lips pressed against his own, pot-flavored saliva mixing.

Luke turned to Jimmy, catching him midstare.

Jimmy looked away, gearing his attention ahead.

Silence lay awkwardly suspended between the two. Jimmy’s leg sprang into action, bobbing up and down chaotically as he struggled to come up with something to say, anything to distract from his embarrassment. It was his dead dog, Sneakers, who entered his mind at that particular moment, becoming the topic of his incomprehensible rant. He anxiously traversed the subject, hoping that as long as he continued he might find a point, some meaningful way of making the story relevant.

Luke charged forward.

He pounced without warning, catching Jimmy off guard, a dangling word about Sneakers still struggling to escape, quashed by Luke’s eager lips. Jimmy sat frozen, suspended in a state of shock as his lips acquiesced. His eyes remained wide open. He glanced around to assess the situation in hopes of regaining consciousness. Luke’s eyes were sealed shut. Jimmy closed his.

Luke grabbed Jimmy’s face, pulling him closer. Jimmy kissed harder, adding his tongue to the mix in hopes of returning to his body and ending the sudden, ill-timed fit of numbness. Luke accepted, offering his tongue as well. It twirled around Jimmy’s, slithering in and out of his mouth with skill. The haze was lifting. Jimmy reached over, trying to touch Luke’s face, but Luke’s arms created an impenetrable barrier. He settled for his elbows before eventually resting his hands on Luke’s thigh. Jimmy caressed Luke’s leg as a rush of excitement filled him. Blood charged through his body. His senses now on overdrive, he could finally taste the boy attached to him, feel his moistness. He lunged forward, pushing Luke back into his seat. His hands were now free to roam as they pleased. He ran them up and down Luke’s torso, traversing his stomach and chest until resting on Luke’s face. Luke moaned softly. Jimmy leaned in farther, pressing closer, wincing in pain as the center console stabbed into his side, but continued on his mission to devour him.

Luke pushed forward, sending Jimmy crashing into the steering wheel.

The horn burst into action.

Their mouths broke apart as they surrendered to laughter, the tips of their noses still touching. Jimmy peered behind and noticed the men near the theater staring. He peeled away.

“I guess we should get going?” Jimmy suggested.

“I guess,” Luke replied as he wiped the sides of his mouth clean. “Don’t want to miss the next one.”

Jimmy’s heart pounded as he exited the car, flattening his shirt and rearranging his hair.

Luke approached, offering his hand.

Jimmy placed his hand in Luke’s, quieting his enthusiasm as best he could as they began down the sidewalk. Their fingers locked together as a sense of ease washed over him. There was no concern for the group of men watching as they approached. He no longer worried about being awkward or unprepared. The chatter of his overactive mind had quieted.

They entered the theater, still joined together, and took seats in the back row.

“More privacy back here,” Luke said with a wink.

Jimmy smiled brightly, unable to contain his excitement as the lights dimmed.

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Meet the Author

Daniel has always had a love for storytelling. Originally from New York City, he moved with his family at a young age to South Florida, and received his B.A. in Studio Art and Film from the University of Miami in Coral Gables, Florida. After graduating, he returned to New York where his love affair with the Capital of the World continued. In 2007 he relocated to Los Angeles, California where he now resides. Daniel received his M.F.A. from the American Film Institute Conservatory. He works in post production in the film and television industry, but spends most of his free time reading and writing.

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Aug 27

Release Blitz: On Andross Station by J.C. Long (Excerpt & Giveaway)

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Title: On Andross Station

Author: J.C. Long

Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: August 27, 2018

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 37000

Genre: Science Fiction, science fiction, adventure, romance, gay

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Synopsis

Hikaru Adachi has come to Andross Station to discover what happened to colleague and fellow Inquisitor Katya. Thane, a tracer, has arrived at the station seeking a bounty on Galen Horn, one of the Unity of Planets’ most wanted men. They will find their paths cross as their interests intersect, and soon they are on a hunt that is more dangerous than they know, for Horn has enlisted some dangerous allies, including one from Thane’s past. If Thane and Hikaru together can’t bring Horn down, he will set in motion a plot that will see the entire station destroyed in an attack of massive proportions.

Excerpt

On Andross Station
J.C. Long © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Hikaru

One second the café was calm, the next it exploded into chaos. Tables flew and chairs tipped and slid over the floor as people scrambled away from sudden gunfire. Only one person at the café seemed to maintain her calm. She dropped behind the table she sat at, taking shelter from the bullets. The shooter moved with purpose, seeming to seek an angle to make her his next victim, but she was not going to be so easily caught off-guard. She drew her legs back and then slammed them into the table as hard as she could. The table, made of some sort of ultra-light plasteel material, soared, slamming into the gunman’s knees. The woman jumped to her feet, efficiently disarming the shooter before pistol-whipping him with his own gun. With a harried look, she walked away from the café.

“Rewind image five seconds.” The hologram projector obeyed Hikaru Adachi’s command, playing back to the moment right after the woman disarmed and incapacitated the gunman and looked toward the camera. “Freeze image.” The image’s movement halted. Hikaru squinted, focusing on the woman’s face.

This was the last moment recorded of Katya—no other camera in the station caught sight of her. It was as if she walked out of the frame and then disappeared. No matter how many times he combed through the security footage, he couldn’t find a single sign of her again.

“Vi, time to arrival at Andross Station?”

“We will be arriving in just under two standard hours,” answered the “voice” of his personal VI, which he called Vi. It was a generic voice, free of any identifying inflection, the same sort of VI used throughout the Unity of Planets for ease of communication. The voice was easy for those not accustomed to speaking Terran—not too fast, not too slow. Only Hikaru could hear it, its “voice” processed directly to his brain.

Hikaru rolled his head, trying to release tension in his neck. “Reaccess information regarding Katya’s current assignment.”

“Note that access to some of the information is listed as restricted,” the AI informed him, as it did each time he asked to access it. “Most recent updates to assignment were made twenty-nine standard hours ago.”

That time significance was not lost on Hikaru, even though it was probably lost on the VI. She’d received an update on her assignment an hour before the shooting at the café. It was unlikely to be a coincidence.

He examined the material on a secure personal access point, as was proper protocol. It didn’t do much to alleviate his confusion. According to the files, Katya was assigned to Andross Station to monitor what might be a hotspot for subversive activity—not much surprising; Katya was, like Hikaru, an Inquisitor, enacting the will of the Unity of Planets as they were ordered. Inquisitors often found themselves in the role of watchdogs, keeping an eye on pockets of discontent that might boil over into open rebellion. The assignment was classified level two—which meant discontent was high, and in certain conditions might spill over into violence.

Twenty-nine hours ago, it was upgraded to a level four—danger imminent. After that, everything was sealed. When given the assignment to investigate Katya’s disappearance, Hikaru was granted a temporary higher security clearance, which gave him access to one more piece of information, and it was probably the most critical piece he could get: approximately thirty-one hours ago, the Unity learned that Galen Horn, a notorious terrorist and murderer, was on his way to Andross Station. Two hours later, the threat level was upped, and an hour after that, Katya was gone.

Hikaru didn’t believe in coincidences. Galen Horn was somehow related to Katya’s disappearance. If the connection was there, he’d find it. He was one of the best; it was why they sent him.

Hikaru disconnected the data stream with a sigh, sat back in the chair, and stared at the bulkhead of the small fast-cruiser all Inquisitors used to convey themselves to their missions. He’d set out from Engiminon VI with little notice very late in the night; when an assignment came, you didn’t wait until morning; you boarded the cruiser and set off. Once on board, he opted to review all the material he could relating to the assignment, foregoing sleep. Now he was too close to his destination for sleep to be a valid option.

Instead he would spend the time remaining in his transit to reinforce his psychic walls. Being a telepath was difficult, but it was most challenging on a space station or vessel. People crammed into contained areas while recycled air swept through, carrying the emotional vibrations of every passenger with it. If given the choice, Hikaru would never go to space stations, never make a transit on a crowded ship. But he was an Inquisitor, and he didn’t have the luxury of choice.

He sat on the bed cross-legged and then closed his eyes in preparation for the mental exercises to come.

He spoke aloud to Vi. “Has the station’s security been notified of my arrival?”

“Affirmative. Their head of security will meet you at the docking bay.”

“Thanks, Vi.” Inquisitors and local security or police forces never got along well; the security teams didn’t take kindly to an “outsider” stepping on their toes and taking over. Not that it mattered, in the end. Inquisitors had the authority, and Inquisitors did not work with other forces. The security team would just have to take a step back. They wouldn’t like it, but what they liked wasn’t of great concern to Hikaru.

“Notify me when we begin docking procedures,” Hikaru instructed Vi. With a deep breath, he began building his mental walls, visualizing impenetrable steel panels falling into place one by one, until he was encased in a psychic Fabergé egg. Something told him he was going to need them on Andross Station.

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Meet the Author

J.C. Long is an American expat living in Japan, though he’s also lived stints in Seoul, South Korea—no, he’s not an army brat; he’s an English teacher. He is also quite passionate about Welsh corgis and is convinced that anyone who does not like them is evil incarnate. His dramatic streak comes from his life-long involvement in theater. After living in several countries aside from the United States J. C. is convinced that love is love, no matter where you are, and is determined to write stories that demonstrate exactly that. J. C. Long’s favorite things in the world are pictures of corgis, writing and Korean food (not in that order…okay, in that order). J. C. spends his time not writing thinking about writing, coming up with new characters, attending Big Bang concerts and wishing he was writing. The best way to get him to write faster is to motivate him with corgi pictures. Yes, that is a veiled hint.

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Aug 20

Release Blitz: Life at the Death House by Sean E. D. Kerr (Excerpt & Giveaway)

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Title: Life at the Death House

Author: Sean E. D. Kerr

Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: August 20, 2018

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 113700

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, HIV, AIDS, grief, addiction, illness/disease, children, tear-jerker, drug/alcohol use, gay

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Synopsis

The locals call it the Death House, but Carol and Marco designed the New Life House as a home for kids to live, safely removed from the stigmas and judgments of the outside world.

Seventeen-year-old Tyler arrives on the doorstep, hoping that he’s finally found a safe place to die. His arrival causes the other kids to question the futures they’ve been promised, and Carol and Marco must convince them there is life after diagnosis.

Even through struggles with addictions and questions of sexuality, the residents could come to believe in the possibility of living.

Excerpt

Life at the Death House
Sean E.D. Kerr © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
October 1997

The air bit at his cheeks as he walked toward the house where he hoped he would die. After all this time, he’d made it. Tyler took a deep, satisfied breath as he slowly worked his way up the gravel driveway.

He found out about the New Life House on his birthday back in September, and had been trying to get there ever since. When he first saw the pamphlet, he nearly laughed. Strange name for a death house, he’d thought. The name just didn’t make sense to him. There was no new life for people like him. There was only death and loneliness. And pain. That’s all there was.

Despite his commitment to dying, his heart still raced at the thought. A death house. He’d already lost everything that ever mattered and then some. The only thing he had left to lose was his life, and he wasn’t convinced that would be much of a loss. There was no one left to mourn him anyway. I just don’t want to die on the streets. I don’t want to die like… He couldn’t even finish the thought.

Tyler held his breath to steel himself to the pit of guilt growing deep inside him. Why had he been the one who found the New Life House? Why couldn’t they have found it together? He’d never expected how quickly things could change in a couple of years or even a few months. How many things and how many people he could lose in such a short time. He never knew just how real life could be until the day it happened. The day he didn’t like to think about. The day he’d found he really was alone.

He stopped as he reached the edge of the paved section of the driveway, not far from the house but just far enough away so he could take it all in. It was huge. He cleared his throat and blinked as if to make sure it was really there.

The New Life House stood in the center of a two-hundred-acre piece of well-kept land. It was a large Victorian-style home with faded blue paneling, yellowing white trim, and a wraparound veranda with white paint, peeling and flaking away, revealing the graying wood beneath it. The last of the grass was fighting to be seen through spots of early snow and fallen leaves as winter edged its way in. The driveway was nearly half a kilometer of dirt and gravel, leading to the large circular patch of pavement around the front of the house, the same pavement he now hesitated to step onto.

Tyler looked over his shoulder to see how far he’d walked, but his view was blocked by a line of silver maple trees, sparsely decorated with what remained of their brightly colored leaves, that cut across the front of the property about halfway down the driveway. From where he stood, they resembled a really tall fence.

His attention drifted back toward the house. The sweet smell of rotting leaves mixed with the scent of a roast dinner filled the air, warming Tyler as he imagined what it would taste like. His mouth watered, and his stomach grumbled. He hadn’t had a proper meal in days.

What am I doing? They’re not gonna take me. This is stupid. He looked down at his worn runners, torn and caked with dirt, and wondered if his journey had all been for nothing. What if they could see right through his lies and could see what he truly was? What if they refused to let him stay? He couldn’t take another rejection. He wouldn’t let anyone have that power over him again.

Don’t be ridiculous. You’re going in. He did his best to give himself a pep talk. He was never very good at those either. The only thing he knew how to do was disappoint, but he would do anything to be allowed to stay…almost.

They agreed on the phone to let you come. Stop freaking out. They can’t change their minds that fast. He took a deep breath, stepped onto the pavement, and began his walk to the front door.

He rang the bell and waited for what felt like hours for someone to answer. “Hi,” Tyler said shyly, avoiding eye contact with the tall and athletic, bordering on beefy, man who greeted him.

“Hi there, you must be Tyler. I was expecting you about an hour ago,” the man said, smiling and offering his hand to shake.

Tyler stared at it but shied away.

The man pulled his hand back but kept smiling, seemingly unbothered by Tyler’s reaction. “Come on in. I’m Marco.” His voice was loud, energetic, and slightly more high-pitched than Tyler expected.

“Thank you,” Tyler said quietly. He looked around the foyer, in awe of its grandness. The room was large and dark with wood floors and features. On a small table next to the office, a single lamp gave off a dim glow, lighting the first few feet of the darkened hallway that led toward the common areas of the house. Across from the entrance was a wide wooden staircase, lined with red carpet that led up to the second and third floors. The sounds of children giggling and chattering in the TV room drifted softly down the hall.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” Marco said. “Just put your shoes on the rack.” He nodded toward a shoe rack already holding several other pairs of runners and boots.

Tyler did as he was told even though he was embarrassed that his socks were dirty, and both of his big toes stuck out of matching holes.

“Sorry I’m late.” He chanced a quick glance at Marco. He doesn’t look like a doctor.

Marco was wearing blue jeans and a Nirvana T-shirt. He looked like an old guy who hadn’t accepted his age yet.

“Can I take that for you?”

Tyler flinched and jerked away defensively as Marco reached for his bag.

Startled by his reaction, Marco retracted his hand, immediately stepped back, and shrunk his stature. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me,” Tyler said, straightening up. “I’m not a pussy.”

Marco laughed. “I probably should have known that.”

“How could you have known? You don’t know me.”

“Most young guys who have tattoos on their necks and piercings in their eyebrows tend to have a bit of a wild side,” Marco said. “There’s an element of tough guy that comes with that look.”

“Hm.” Tyler instinctively brought his hand up to touch the black tattoo in Chinese characters on the left side of his neck and forced the burgeoning tears to dry as he thought back to the day he’d gotten it. He smirked, pleased that he came off as tough. His blue jeans were baggy and tattered; he had a black hoody on, undone over his black T-shirt that read: Do I Look Like a F*!#ing People Person?! He had put great effort into crafting an appearance that would keep people at bay. He controlled what he could. Despite his great efforts to appear tough, he was cursed with blond hair and a baby face that, in his opinion, only served to make him seem vulnerable. That’s why people always took advantage of him, but he wouldn’t let anyone do that again.

“How old are you?”

Tyler stood a little taller. “Seventeen.”

“I was pretty sure that’s what you’d said on the phone, but you look a lot younger.”

Tyler frowned and slouched again. “I know.” He rolled his eyes. He’d heard these lines before. This conversation was going nowhere.

Marco ran his hand over his bald head almost instinctively, as though it would help him come up with something else to say.

Tyler despised small talk. It was only adding to his anxiety over whether they would let him stay or not. He took a deep breath and admitted what he hadn’t on the phone a month before.

“I don’t have any money.” He said it quickly to get it over with. If it meant he had to leave, he wanted to know now.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure something out,” Marco said, reaching his hand out for Tyler’s bag again.

“I told you I don’t have any money.” Tyler pulled away and, for the first time, made full eye contact with Marco.

“And I told you we’ll figure something out.” Marco kept his hand outstretched.

Tyler cringed. He knew where this was going. It was just like all the others who said they wanted to help. It was never that simple. How could he have been so stupid?

“I’m not going to sleep with you so I can stay here,” Tyler snapped.

Marco stepped back again. “That’s not what I meant.”

Tyler gave him a confused, distrusting look.

“Oh.” He startled and clutched his bag tighter as a middle-aged woman with short, gray-blonde hair came in from the hallway. Now, she looks more like a doctor. She was wearing a beige sweater and tight, dark-green jeans. She had glasses on top of her head rather than over her eyes, something that had always amused Tyler. What good do they do up there?

“I thought I heard the doorbell ring,” she said, smiling as she walked toward Tyler and extended her hand. “Welcome.”

“Hi,” he said, shrinking away from her.

The woman looked at Marco knowingly, smiled, and said, “You know the polite thing to do when someone tries to shake your hand is to reach out and shake.”

She kept her hand extended, waiting for him to respond. “My name is Carol. What’s yours?”

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Meet the Author

Sean holds a diploma in Professional Writing from Algonquin College (Ottawa, Canada, 2009). He found his love of writing at the age of ten when he released his first miniseries via Duo-Tang folder to his family and friends. He has another four novels outlined and is working on draft one of a fifth.

In December 2016, he launched the Pontiac & Ottawa Valley Writers’ Circle under the umbrella of the Pontiac Artists Association (PAA). He continues to coordinate the efforts of the POVWC and is enjoying the blossoming of a strong creative writing community.

Sean writes a wide range of genres with a particular focus and interest in literary and upmarket fiction. He specifically enjoys writing stories that deal with how people react to hardships, exploring how they come through them for better or for worse. It’s the experiences and choices that change people that intrigue him the most. Common themes include addiction, mental health, sexuality, grief and hope.

Sean lives on a farm in Bristol, Quebec, with his husband, Glen; their dogs, Suzie, Maxwell and Walker; their goats, Tyrion and Arya; and their llamas, Shadow and Angie.

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Addiction, AIDS, children, Contemporary, drug/alcohol use, Gay, grief, HIV, illness/disease, tear-jerker
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Aug 20

Release Blitz: Trouble’s on the Way by CL Mustafic (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Filed under Book Blitz, Giveaways

Title: Trouble’s on the Way

Series: Outcasts, Book Two

Author: CL Mustafic

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: August 20, 2018

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 52500

Genre: Paranormal, shifter, bonded mate, menage, lycanthrope, werewolf, bigender, gender fluid

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Synopsis

After leaving the Outcast pack, Clay Anderson and Damian Macoon head to Alabama where they’ve both secured a job with the construction company that employs Damian. Their new relationship is off to a good but not too harmonious start in no small part due to Clay still holding a grudge against Damian for turning him into a werewolf. So when they walk into the office trailer parked on the job site and Clay realizes that their boss is none other than Damian’s fated mate, things get even more tense between the two.

Billy Ray Hicks was raised believing he was going to find his mate and be a cherished member of whatever pack he ended up in, but those dreams came crashing down when his bonded mate ran away and disappeared from his life before the mate bond was completed. Billy Ray always figured he’d run into Damian again but never suspected his mate would have a boyfriend when he did.

With tensions mounting between Clay and Damian, Billy Ray becomes the focal point of their ire. Damian ends up in the middle of two men—one he wants and one he needs—who both want him. Now he needs to convince them that they all belong together before he loses both.

Excerpt

Trouble’s on the Way
CL Mustafic © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Clay

Almost nine hours of sitting in the pickup with Damian gave me plenty of time to think. Part of me thought going with him to Alabama was an okay idea. Sure the money would probably be decent, and since I was no longer gainfully employed, what did I have to lose? Another part of me thought I was crazy for not only shacking up with the guy who’d turned me into a werewolf, but now I was letting him drag me halfway across the country. Maybe contracting lycanthropy had messed up my ability to make a good decision.

I glanced over at Damian, who was concentrating on the road signs because he was looking for the exit just outside Iowa City that would lead us to one of the campgrounds. I couldn’t lie to myself enough to pretend I wasn’t attracted to him. Hell, who didn’t have a fantasy about the tattooed bad boy? Reminding myself Damian wasn’t the stereotypical bad boy, I tore my eyes off him before he could feel me staring. I spotted the exit we were looking for, but before I could point it out, Damian switched lanes and pulled off the interstate.

“You sure you don’t want to drive? We could make it to Tuscaloosa by morning and sleep the day away,” Damian asked for the millionth time.

“I told you I don’t want to drive this rig and I’m tired anyways.” I’d dozed some but not enough to stay awake and drive all night. Plus, I wasn’t confident about my ability to drive the pickup with a thirty-five-foot trailer attached to it.

“You’d only have to drive for about four hours, and then I’d be fresh enough to take over, but if you’re too scared to drive, I’m fine with that.” A grin tugged at the corner of his lip at his dig, but all I had to do was let a growl rumble up out of my chest to kill his urge to smile.

Pulling up to the campground’s reception building, Damian got out of the truck and stretched before turning back to me. “I’ll go pay for the night. You want to run into the store and maybe get us some snacks and beer?”

“Sure. You want anything special?” I opened my own door but waited for his response instead of getting out.

“Maybe some ice cream, chocolate, oh, and some nachos and gummy worms.”

“Are you pregnant?” I snorted and shook my head at his request as I dropped down to the ground from the pickup.

“You know those are just stories, right?” Damian called over the hood of the pickup at me.

“Hey, I have no idea what to believe anymore. I used to think werewolves were just stories.” I made air quotes around “just stories” to get my point across, making him roll his eyes at me.

“Go get me my junk food.” Turning, Damian went to pay for our stay while I went into the little convenience store.

The woman behind the counter watched my every move as I loaded down the little red basket with Damian’s requested junk food and then grabbed a case of beer to go with it. She rang up the sale but before she was done, Damian came in the door. Her eyes widened and I could smell the change in the atmosphere around her. Apparently, she also liked bad boys, and her interest in what my beast thought of as his brought out its jealousy.

“Hey, are you buying the whole store or what?” Damian’s sexy grin was at full wattage as he sauntered up to the counter. Turning it on the woman, he nodded a greeting, making her blush like a school girl.

“Not my fault your cravings are so weird.” I managed to swallow the possessive warning my beast wanted to growl out at the woman. Instead, I put my arm around Damian’s waist and pulled him to my side, making his smile falter. Taking it a step further when the woman’s scent didn’t change once she saw Damian wasn’t on the market, I pointed to the row of condoms behind her. “Give me three boxes of the magnums too. I have a feeling we’re going to need them tonight.” I winked as Damian stiffened at my side.

“Clay–”

“Make it four.” I reached down and squeezed Damian’s ass. His arousal wafted up to join that of the woman’s, who’d turned to get the requested condoms. She didn’t make eye contact with either of us as she finished tallying the items and took my card. “Have a good night.” I practically sang the words as we walked out the door.

Damian pushed away from me when we hit the parking lot. “What the fuck was that all about?” His glare would have been much more menacing if I hadn’t found his mismatched eyes to be so damn alluring; plus his anger only made my beast want to make him submit to it.

“What was what all about?” I shrugged and held out the bags I was carrying in one hand. “Just getting stuff for the night.”

“And what do you expect to do with twelve condoms?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to cross his arms over his chest, forgetting he was holding the case of beer, so he had to drop them back down to his sides.

He had me there. We didn’t use condoms, since neither of us could catch anything, so did he think I’d intended to go out and find someone else for the night? Shit. That was not my intention, but just to see how pissed off I could make him, I decided to throw the possibility out there. “Well, maybe there will be a hot guy in the spot next to us. We should be prepared, right?”

“You’re an asshole.” Damian stomped off to the truck and before I could get in, he pulled away, leaving me to walk behind.

He was right. I was an asshole, but he knew that, so it was his fault for sticking around. Our spot was a bit down the road from the lodge and when I got there, Damian had already hooked up the power and was standing by the door pressing the button that pushed out the pop outs on the camper. I’d only glanced inside before we’d left so when I stepped past him, I had to stop and stare.

“Holy shit, this thing is huge.” I looked over my shoulder at Damian, who was squatting to pet Stumple and Grumpkin, his cats.

“I wanted there to be enough room for both of us so we wouldn’t have to be tripping over each other.” Damian stood and walked across the kitchen to the living room at the end of the trailer where I was inspecting the entertainment system. “There’s only one bedroom but if you want to bring someone back here, I can always sleep on one of the convertibles.”

I turned to look at him because I could tell he was hurt, and though I’d wanted to keep the space between us, I didn’t much like him feeling he didn’t matter to me. He did mean something to me; I just wasn’t sure what. I crowded him up against the wall, pressing my body to his, making his breath catch. “You’ll sleep where I tell you to sleep. And if I want you in the bed with me while I’m fucking someone else, you’ll lay there and watch,” I growled. Where the fuck did that come from?

Damian whimpered. He knew when my beast was talking and his beast deferred to mine, always. It still boggled my mind how his huge wolf was afraid of my tiny puppy one. “I hate you sometimes, you know that?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“I know, and the feeling’s mutual.” I stepped back and let him go about taking care of the cats and then hooking up the water. I would have helped, but I had no idea how to do any of the things that made the camper run. I went to the bedroom on the other end of the trailer and grabbed a fresh pair of underwear before going into the bathroom and taking a shower.

When I came out of the steamy little room, Damian had changed into a pair of low-hanging sleep pants. He was curled into one of the arm chairs in the corner, watching a movie with Stumple purring on his lap and his array of snacks on a folding tray next to him. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat on the couch. Grumpkin jumped up and sat next to me, and after sending a look at his owner, he lay his head on my lap and started purring.

“Fuck you too,” Damian mumbled to the cat before shoving a handful of gummy bears in his mouth.

“How can you eat all that shit?” I shook my head in disgust as he chased the gummies with a spoonful of ice cream.

“Fast metabolism. If I don’t eat like this, I’ll start looking like you.” He let his eyes run over my upper body, which I’d noticed lately was getting a little scrawnier than it normally was. “I told you, the beast needs food; either you feed it or it eats away at you.” He shrugged and filled his mouth with chips so his next words were interspersed with crunching noises. “Take advantage of it while you can, eat the good shit before the beast gets old and tired and then you get a pot belly.”

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Meet the Author

CL Mustafic is a born and bred American mid-westerner who mysteriously ended up living in one of those countries nobody can ever find on the map of Europe. Left with too much time on her hands—let’s be honest here: it was the lack of television channels in her native language–and too many voices in her head trying to fill the silence, she decided to give her life-long dream of writing a novel a shot. So now, between shuttling kids back and forth from various activities and risking her life on the insanely narrow, busy streets of her new hometown, she loses herself in her own made-up world where love always wins.

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bigender, bonded mate, gender fluid, lycanthrope, menage, Shifter, werewolf
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Aug 20

Release Blitz: Tale of a Dragon Princess by Lizzie Colt (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Filed under Book Blitz, Giveaways

Title: Tale of a Dragon Princess

Author: Lizzie Colt

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: August 20, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 21600

Genre: Fantasy, dragon, witch, princess, warrior, curse, lesbian, PTSD, disability, prosthetic

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Synopsis

The day Princess Mellie turns sixteen, her parents reveal she was cursed as a baby and will spend the rest of her nights as a dragon. Two years later, she discovers a chance to break the curse, but it will take a quest with only her chosen bodyguard, a brave female warrior who has lost her lust for fighting but has developed an attraction for the princess.

Excerpt

Tale of a Dragon Princess
Lizzie Colt © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Waking up on the day of her daughter’s sixteenth birthday should have been a joyous event, but Queen Jasmine awoke to a feeling of dread in the pit in her stomach. Almost sixteen years had passed since the ice witch, as they had dubbed her, had visited their castle that mid-winter’s night and laid a curse on their sweet Mellie.

Now it was spring, and they had learned little about the witch and her magic, and they hadn’t been able to break the curse. Jasmine had been praying that when this night fell nothing would happen, that the curse would simply be a terrible lie or a nasty trick. She had even prayed nightfall wouldn’t come.

“Come, my love. It’s time to get dressed and greet our princess.” Magnus’s voice called from the other side of the room.

“Are we doing the right thing, acting like it’s a normal day and telling her just before dark?” Jasmine asked, slipping out of bed.

“We’ve talked about this. We agreed to give her a normal life for as long as we could. For sixteen years, she’s been like other princesses she’s met, lived a similar if sheltered life. We’ve protected her but let her grow. Let’s watch her have one more perfect birthday,” Magnus said, and Jasmine nodded in agreement. She wanted to see her daughter smiling, to watch her opening gifts and being spoiled.

“Go wake her. I’ll get dressed.” Jasmine smiled faintly, hoping her worry didn’t bleed through and show itself to Mellie. Her sweet young lady was very perceptive of other’s emotions, she always spoke softly when people needed to be calmed, but knew how to raise her voice when it was needed. She’d make a good queen one day because she read people well. She was also fair and kind.

“Would you like my help with that?” Magnus glanced in her direction raising an eyebrow.

“Your Majesty, you flatter me, but we do not have time for such distractions. Go to Mellie. I’m sure she’s nervous about the presentation.” Jasmine loved that her husband still desired her after all these years. They had finally come to terms with the fact that Mellie would be their only child, the damage from her birth too much to allow her to have a sibling. But Magnus had only to look at her, and Jasmine felt like a young princess again, and a beautiful one at that.

“She is her mother’s daughter, so shy in the face of grand ceremonies. Who would know what a handful you both are?” Magnus laughed and headed for the door.

“Are you complaining?” Jasmine asked, pulling the cord to ring the bell for her dresser. Some days, she dressed herself, taking time to comb her long dark hair and line her blue eyes with kohl, but today, she’d be presenting herself in a fine corseted gown to face those coming to visit the castle. The birthday celebration and acknowledgement of Mellie as the future queen of Silver Kingdom had drawn lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses from near and far. It would be a long, busy day.

“Never. I wouldn’t trade my girls for anything, not the silver in the hills, not the diamond mines in the west or the gold in the east,” Magnus said, his brown eyes gleaming with pride. Jasmine laughed in delight, waving him away. He could make her laugh even on days like this, when darkness lurked closer with each passing hour. Jasmine only hoped Mellie found someone who would do the same for her.

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Meet the Author

Lizzie Colt is a writer in her late twenties who has always loved writing and has been doing it her whole life. Lizzie is bi and disabled and she wanted to see more of characters like her in YA books. She loves fantasy but will turn her hand to any genre and hopes to share many stories. Lizzie loves animals and hates being cold.

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curse, disability, dragon, Lesbian, princess, prosthetic, PTSD, warrior, witch
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Aug 20

Release Blitz: Adventures in Dating…in Heels by Liam Livings (Excerpt & Giveaway)

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Title: Adventures in Dating…in Heels

Series: Kev, Book One

Author: Liam Livings

Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: August 20, 2018

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 66200

Genre: Contemporary, cross-dressing, family drama, gay, coming out, coming of age, drag queens

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Synopsis

Kev Harrison is a teenager looking for a boyfriend and friends who will accept his cross-dressing. Only thing is, he lives in a small village near Salisbury, England, and it’s the nineties.

Tony Collins is Kev’s best friend, a Goth with a passion for fashion and anything to do with the Human League. He stands as the voice of reason while Kev muddles his way through coming out, career choices, and dating…in heels.

Excerpt

Adventures in Dating…in Heels
Liam Livings © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
1987

I first realised I wasn’t quite like other boys when I was seven. By then, I was old enough to know what I liked and what I didn’t like and, more importantly, confident and talkative enough to do something about it.

One afternoon, when Dad was at work and Mum was making cakes in the kitchen, I found a pile of Mum’s large dresses in the living room, waiting to be ironed. I knew they were hers as I’d seen her bustling about the house in them, just before Dad came home from work. At four o’clock every day, after I’d been home from school a while, Mum would disappear upstairs dressed as Mrs. Mop and reappear at quarter to five in one of her long flowing dresses, full makeup, and heels, her hair brushed out from spending a day under a head scarf.

Mum was really into the Mamas and the Papas, and during the summer holidays while Dad was at work, and once the house was straight and she’d “done through” as she called it, we’d dance to her twelve-inch records in the living room. She would come in from hanging out the washing in the back garden and say, “A good day for drying. If they’re done in time and I’m all done through, we can have a little dance with my records.”

One afternoon while Mum was upstairs making herself look nice for Dad, I grabbed one of her dresses and climbed into it, ready for our dance.

Mum walked into the living room as I held the Mamas and the Papas album, wearing her size-twenty dress covered in bright-pink daisies, a wide grin filling my face.

She took the record off me. “What you doing in my dress, love?”

“I like the flowers and I want to see what it feels like when I dance around in it, like you do.” Perfectly reasonable as far as I was concerned.

“They’re for me, not for you, love.” She put the record on and turned to me, her hands on her hips. “Take it off and we can have a dance together.”

But I didn’t want to take it off. I wanted to keep it on with my whole being. As I swayed from side to side, brushing the dress between my hands as I swung my arms around, I felt so right I couldn’t understand why I had to take it off.

“I’ll be careful. I won’t make it dirty.” Dirty was the worst thing in that house as far as Mum was concerned, and I knew I wouldn’t do that to the dress.

As the music filled the room, Mum knelt in front of me. “One dance. But it’s our little secret. Don’t tell Daddy, all right?” She made a zipping motion with her hand across her lips.

I nodded emphatically and started to dance with her to the music. It was the one that made me dance the most on the whole album, it was “One Way Ticket.” It all felt perfect: the swishing sound of the dress as it moved around me, the feeling of the gap between my bare legs, and how different it was from wearing trousers.

As I danced, I caught a glimpse of myself, stood in my mum’s frock, smiling as I jumped about.

The song finished, and Mum lifted the needle on the record player and told me to take off the dress.

There was a bit of a disagreement as I begged for one more song, held up my He-Man figure and said, “I want to dance for him.”

“You like He-Man, do you, love?”

I nodded and Mum kept looking at her watch. In the end, she unzipped the dress behind my back and lifted me out of it. As the dress lay on the ground, pooled around my feet, the back door clicked, signalling Dad’s return from work. Mum scooped up the dress and folded it quickly into the ironing pile in the living room, then greeted Dad, in his grey suit carrying a black briefcase, with a hug and a kiss.

“What’s for dinner?” Dad asked over Mum’s shoulder, staring at me.

I was still moving a bit to the song continuing to play in my head.

“What’s he dancing about for? Why’s he not got any clothes on? Hasn’t he got something useful to do, like lay the table?”

Mum pulled back from the hug and told me to throw on some clothes, and then asked me to lay the table as dinner would be five minutes. Raising her eyebrows towards me, she said, “Fish fingers, peas, and chips. Your favourite.”

I ran upstairs to dress, nipping in ahead of Dad. Once we had both changed, we made our way downstairs again. Mum beamed at my dad, who was now wearing a shapeless grey tracksuit he’d bought from a catalogue when Mum had complained his old tracksuit had too many holes to be darned anymore.

We continued with our little secret most evenings. Sometimes, I would watch Mum putting on her makeup from their bed and I’d ask what each item was for as she applied them.

“Can I have a go?” I asked once got the courage.

She turned, half her lips bright red, the lipstick in her hand. “Not on you. You can do it on me if you want.” She handed it to me. As I applied it to her lips, I had to force my whole body not to put a bit on my own.

“How does it come off?” I asked innocently.

She showed me the makeup remover in the jar on her dressing table and the cotton wool in the drawer.

Now I knew everything I needed to know.

When Mum was hanging out the washing or deeply involved in dinner preparation, I would take some of Mum’s makeup into the bathroom and make up my whole face and then stare at myself in the mirror, amazed at how I no longer looked like me. Afterwards, I’d dutifully remove it all with the bottle and cotton wool just as Mum had done.

That Christmas, Mum opened her present from Dad: a pair of shiny black high-heeled shoes. The toes went to a sharp point and the heel was longer than my index finger. She tried them on, parading around the room and twirling her feet at every turn.

I looked at the Meccano tractor set I’d just opened and my heart sank. Why didn’t I have a little sister so I could play Barbie dolls with her as I was growing up? I’d seen these dolls in their bright-pink boxes and blonde hair next to the muddy-grey Action Man in the toy shop. When I’d asked for one of those, Dad had said not to be so silly. I wanted an Action Man, didn’t I?

Now, Dad said, “Shall we build the tractor?”

Desperate for something to have in common with Dad, I nodded, opened the box, and cleared a space on the living room carpet. Soon the tractor was built, with its red shiny three-inch wheels, bent tube of a body, and frame around the seat where my old Action Man could sit—if I could have found him. I’d just handed Dad bits and pieces, watching him build it. It was the most we’d talked to each other in years.

After everyone went to bed that night, I sneaked into the living room, pushed my tractor aside, put on Mum’s shiny black high heels, and walked around the kitchen, enjoying every quiet tap they made on the floor. After I’d had my fill, I put them back where they’d been left and went to bed.

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

Meet the Author

Liam Livings lives where east London ends and becomes Essex. He shares his house with his boyfriend and cat. He enjoys baking, cooking, classic cars and socialising with friends. He has a sweet tooth for food and entertainment: loving to escape from real life with a romantic book; enjoying a good cry at a sad, funny and camp film; and listening to musical cheesy pop from the eighties to now. He tirelessly watches an awful lot of Gilmore Girls in the name of writing ‘research’.

Published since 2013 by a variety of British and American presses, his gay romance and gay fiction focuses on friendships, British humour, romance with plenty of sparkle. He’s a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, and the Chartered Institute of Marketing. With a masters in creative writing from Kingston University, he teaches writing workshops with his partner in sarcasm and humour, Virginia Heath as www.realpeoplewritebooks.com and has also ghost written a client’s 5 Star reviewed autobiography.

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Aug 20

Release Blitz: Eidolon by E.S. Yu (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Filed under Book Blitz, Giveaways

Title: Eidolon

Author: E.S. Yu

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: August 20, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 83000

Genre: Science Fiction, PTSD, Assassin, amnesia, dystopian, asexual, mental illness

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Synopsis

When Cyrex Corp, one of the foremost bioaugmentation companies in the world, sends Vax to assassinate Zai Lumero, Vax thinks it’ll be a simple, straightforward job. Zai is only a journalist, after all, and with his bioaugments, Vax has never botched a job before. But then the hit unexpectedly goes south, and before Vax can correct his mistake and finish Zai off for good, he discovers that Cyrex has turned on him, putting him in their crosshairs as well.

With no one else to turn to, he strikes a grudging partnership with Zai to help him expose Cyrex’s connection to a missing persons case and take the company down. Getting along with a justice crusader who hates Vax’s profession with a burning passion isn’t easy—though Vax finds himself drawn to Zai in a way he never expected.

As they race against time to unearth Cyrex’s secrets, Vax can’t shake the feeling that Zai is hiding something from him. And the closer he gets to uncovering the answers—of how he’s related to Zai’s investigation, and how Zai is connected to a past that Vax can’t remember—the more he suspects that finding out the truth might destroy him.

Excerpt

Chapter One
The call came, as it always did, out of the blue, making Vax choke and nearly spill his latte down his jacket. He reluctantly set his cup on the café table with a stifled sigh and, after another minute of buzzing, finally tapped the node in his ear. There was only one person who ever called him, and the call always meant bad news.

“You’ve reached Corporate Murder Services. How can I help you?” he answered.

“Very funny,” a smooth voice said. “I have a new assignment for you. Get to my office.”

“Now?” Vax massaged the bridge of his nose. For once, he’d managed to snag an unoccupied window table, and now he wouldn’t get to enjoy the sunshine or the view. “I’ll need thirty minutes to get there, give or take traffic.”

“Fine. See you soon.”

The call ended. Vax swallowed, his appetite suddenly gone. He downed the rest of his latte, got up from his seat, and texted for an AutoRide. Not for the first time, he thought about suggesting a text message next time, or even a video call, as being much more convenient than an in-person meeting; also not for the first time, he reminded himself glumly that that was never going to happen.

The world had to have been determined to hate him today; he got in the driverless car as it drove up, and just after it pulled away from the curb, the screen inside began broadcasting a news story about Cyrex’s CEO.

“Over the weekend, Cyrex Corp CEO, Atali Norman, pledged five million dollars to support STEM programs in schools across the country…”

Vax immediately changed the channel to one that aired several bioaugment commercials—including the one for Cyrex’s latest weight loss bioaug model that seemed to be everywhere lately—before reporting grim updates on the war overseas. He sighed, gazing morosely out the window at the passing traffic and the colorful screens on the street. Just the way he wanted to start his morning.

Cyrex’s headquarters formed the tallest building in Orphis City, visible from miles away. All glass, as though inviting the world to come and look inside; it had no secrets to hide. It made Vax think of an obnoxiously shiny diamond in the center of Orphis’s gleaming crown of wealthy, high-tech development, which was very photogenic and good for luring tourists to America’s fastest-growing biotech hub, if not exactly an accurate representation of the city as a whole. Vax got out of the car as it pulled up and walked through the glass doors at the entrance.

The sleek, modern lobby bustled with people. Vax waved the microchip in his finger through security and stepped into the elevator. He kept his gaze averted as people in suits and lab coats got on and off with each stop, fixing his eyes on the glimpses of his own reflection in the glass, flickering in and out of existence, like a ghost.

At the top floor, he exited the elevator. He tapped the touch screen panel by the glass door that read Atali Norman, CEO, and the panel flashed green as the door unlocked with a click. Bracing himself, he pulled the door open and walked into the spacious office. Atali himself was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a view of the entire city, talking to someone through his node as Vax entered.

“Honey, I know you’re nervous about starting at a new school, but I guarantee that your classmates will be nice kids who want to become friends with you. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. Getting into Exelor Academy was the hard part; everything else should be a piece of cake. And if anyone’s mean to you? Just tell me, and I’ll take it up with the school. I’m serious!” He turned around and caught sight of Vax. “Sorry, Cathy, I have to go. Call me back later if you’re still anxious, okay? All right. Love you. See you later.”

He ended the call with a press to his ear and turned to face Vax fully. Holographic text flashed in front of his eyes, projected from the transparent augment by his temple. The morning sunlight turned his blond hair into pallid silver, matching his pale skin, as he smiled.

“Hello, Vax. You’re looking well.”

Vax wasn’t in the mood for small talk. “Who’s the target?”

Atali sighed in mock disappointment. “Always business with you.” He produced a microdrive from his pocket, which he inserted into the desk before tapping the touch screen desk surface. The windows behind him darkened and displayed a picture of a young, East Asian man with black hair and light-copper skin.

“Do you know who this is?” Atali asked.

Vax studied the picture more closely. The guy was quite good-looking—as much as Vax wished he could block that thought from his mind—but he didn’t recognize him. “No, sir.”

“That’s Zai Lumero, age twenty-five. He’s a journalist who writes for the Daily Voice, one of those independent news sites that aims to report on ‘true issues’ affecting people’s lives.” Atali spoke with the bored disdain of someone talking about an infestation of rats in a neighboring building. “He lives right in the city.”

So Vax wouldn’t be traveling this time. That was a bit disappointing, but he’d live. Journalist…what, had Lumero written something online that offended Atali? It seemed like overkill to Vax. Not that his opinion counted for anything, though.

“He’s also the son of Lin Zhao Lumero, the current head of Meridian, Inc. Though he’s been estranged from his family for a few years, due to his decision to become a justice crusader.”

“Wait, the son of Meridian’s CEO?” Vax echoed. Meridian might have been Cyrex’s biggest competitor, but he didn’t think Atali was reckless enough to order a hit against its CEO’s son.

“Yes.” Atali’s lips thinned into a displeased line. “Unfortunate that he has such a prominent connection, but it can’t be helped.”

Oh. So this wasn’t directly related to inter-corporation politics. Still… “How estranged are we talking about? This sounds like it could bring down a lot of heat.”

“Do your job correctly, and that won’t be an issue,” Atali said, his voice turning icy.

Vax flinched at his tone and dropped his gaze. “Yes, sir.”

“Ambush him in his apartment. Make it look like a home invasion gone wrong.”

That was a first…and this assignment was sounding worse by the minute. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“Did I ask for your input?”

“No, sir,” Vax muttered, “but you got it anyway.”

Atali gave him a cool look. That was as much as Vax dared to push him.

“After you take care of him, take his computer, pod, anything he might’ve stored his information on, and destroy them somewhere far from his apartment, so no one can retrieve the information.”

Because Atali was genuinely afraid of what Lumero had found, or because he thought it would divert attention from the murder? In any case, Vax wasn’t being paid to care. He picked up the microdrive with Lumero’s information from the desk and slipped it into his pocket.

“How soon do you need it done?”

“By the end of the week.”

Vax tried not to look too disappointed. For a journalist with presumably minimal security, it was doable, though he would’ve liked more time. “Okay,” he said.

“So,” Atali said, in a pleasant tone now, “how have you been? Do anything fun lately?”

“No, sir.” Vax stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. He’d hoped the conversation would be strictly business; now he was stuck trying to figure out the least offensive thing to say that would allow him to exit.

“It’s been a while. We should catch up once you’ve taken care of Lumero.”

A wave of dread swept through Vax. He kept his eyes fixed on his shoes, trying to breathe through his nose, clenching his trembling hands in his pockets. No, I’m fine not catching up. Really.

He was aware of Atali slowly circling toward him, all of his senses instantly snapping alert as soon as Atali crossed an invisible threshold from close to too close. Without warning, Atali grabbed his chin and jerked it up and to the side, forcing him to meet his gaze. Vax winced at the sharp movement and the way Atali’s thumb dug into his jaw, hard enough to bruise, his skin crawling at the unwanted contact.

“You’re supposed to look at someone’s eyes when they’re talking to you.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered in a flat tone, struggling not to let his gaze slide away. He didn’t want to make things worse, even though Atali’s eyes were cold scalpels, flaying and dissecting him into pieces of pulpy flesh.

Atali held his jaw for a moment longer before releasing it. “Don’t screw this up,” he said, his voice cool and clipped with dismissal.

Vax exhaled, rubbing at where Atali had grabbed him. He could still feel the lingering pressure, like phantom fingerprints left behind on his jawbone.

“Yes, sir.” He left as quickly as he could.

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E.S. Yu is a writer of speculative fiction and a geek who lives for video games, superhero comics, and all things sci-fi/fantasy. E.S. is a recovering law school graduate who lives off green tea and dreams of writing full-time; for now, she follows wherever her muse takes her to places sometimes dark, sometimes quirky, but always hopeful.

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Aug 18

Release Blitz: Escaping Exile by Sara Dobie Bauer (Excerpt & Giveaway)

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Title: Escaping Exile

Series: The Escape Trilogy, Book One

Author: Sara Dobie Bauer

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: August 13, 2018

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 21400

Genre: Paranormal, paranormal, historical, vampires, cannibals, gay, bisexual

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Synopsis

Andrew is a vampire from New Orleans, exiled to a tropical island in the 1800s as punishment for his human bloodlust. During a storm, a ship crashes off shore. After rescuing a sailor from the cannibals native to the land, Andrew becomes fascinated with his brilliant, beautiful new companion, Edmund.

Edmund is a British naturalist who has sailed the world seeking new species. Intrigued by creatures that might kill him, immortal Andrew is this scientist’s dream-but so is making his way back home. Edmund will fight to survive, even while wrapped in the arms of a monster.

As light touches and laughter turn to something much more passionate, the cannibals creep ever closer to Edmund. Can the ancient vampire keep his human alive long enough to escape exile and explore their newfound love, or will Andrew’s bloodlust seal his own doom?

Excerpt

Chapter One
The crack as the hull breaks echoes across the beach, into the woods, and inside my head as I try to sleep. I was just beginning to dream of New Orleans. I almost smelled whiskey and muddy streets—almost. Instead, I jolt awake, still surrounded by the fresh flowery scent of this blasted tropical island in the middle of… Well, I don’t know really. That’s the point of exile.

I pull on a worn linen shirt. For the first few months here, I slept with my clothes on in case the cannibals came knocking. They never did. I think they knew this strange white man would make a disgusting meal. As if they could smell death on me. I wonder if eating my flesh could actually kill them. Wouldn’t mind offering a bite if only for some entertainment. I haven’t watched a human die in ages, but now, here we go: a shipwreck. There’s bound to be death in abundance tonight.

It’s not raining when I step outside my house. Yes, I have a small house on a tropical island in the middle of the ocean, overrun with cannibals and all manner of man-eating beasts. Michelle wasn’t that cruel when she sent me here. She did provide me with a home. Congratulations, you heartless bitch, you gave me a house in which to spend eternity alone.

I didn’t even mean to kill that last human back home in Louisiana.

Or maybe I did.

A leathery leaf to the face brings me back to the present as I stomp in tall boots through thick foliage. Despite the lack of rain now falling on my island, a flash of lightning illuminates the beach ahead long enough for me to see them—the natives who’ve managed to steal so many meals from me.

The irony would make me crack a smile if not for my ever-growing bitterness. I once considered capturing a cannibal, but then, they might come hunting me and I’m not half as strong as I once was. And I don’t think Michelle means to leave me here forever. I must wait out her overblown sense of justice.

From where I stand, sheltered behind a fence of palms, I see remnants of a great ship washing to shore. Thunder cracks as a man screams. My focus darts toward the dancing orange light of the native’s torches, and I see but outlines of their naked bodies as they tug and pull on a creature wrapped in white fabric. I squint and identify a man in his sleeping clothes. Dinner is served.

My gaze skims the beach, but it’s mostly detritus and dead men. Dead men are no good to me as their blood is most certainly not part of my unique diet. Oh, but then, there’s a scent on the wind. There is something alive nearby, and it’s bleeding. The smell of blood mixes with the salt of the sea and bitter stress-sweat.

I hone my senses to find the source of blood, but it’s been so long. Once a master, my hunting skills are now out of practice. I take a step back into the jungle and move to my right, away from the dancing torches and the man’s screams, and almost trip over a body. Out of practice is apparently a gross understatement as he was near me this whole time.

Unlike his soon to be devoured compatriot, this man is fully clothed in a coat and trousers. His hair is dark, and he wears black gloves. He’s but a shadow on the sand as I lift him and carry him farther into the woods.

Finally, a meal they won’t steal from me.

Safely inside my little house, I lay the man on the floor and poke at the fire until it roars like the thunder outside. Now, it rains. The ocean storm falls heavy, rocks on the roof, and an animal howls nearby, woken wet from its slumber.

I peel off his soaked clothes as the wound on his head continues to bleed. Unconscious, it’s a wonder he wasn’t pulled away by the current to die in the arms of some mythical mermaid. As I look at him in the firelight, I realize he is indeed a wonder. Perhaps it’s been too long since I’ve felt another man’s skin, but perhaps not. This injured sailor might be beautiful.

Looking at his hairless face, I would have guessed him barely a man. The thick muscles of his chest, arms, and legs dictate otherwise, as do the calluses on his hands. Not only is he a full-grown man, but he’s also a man who works hard. He is lean with hair the color of the ocean on a moonless night—and if I don’t stop his head bleeding, my curse of nothing but dead flesh could continue.

“Don’t die,” I say to him. It’s the first I’ve spoken to a human in ages.

I move him, naked and dry, to my bed and cover him in blankets before wetting a cloth and wiping his wound. It’s a sizeable gash high on his forehead. The dark creature inside me wrestles at the sight of his blood, but I woo it with promises of later, later.

I hold the rag to his head and realize I have no bandages. It’s not as though I need them. I’ll just have to sit here then. I perch on the side of my bed, and my thumb touches his bottom lip. Like a sunrise, this man is becoming more beautiful by the minute. I want to ravage him. I push the blankets away enough to run my hand over his chest. An angry scrape mars the pale skin, and I bet my guest will be covered in bruises by morning. The sea is not a gentle mistress. I know. I’ve tried to escape my exile by swimming out into white waves to no avail. The crushing currents always bring me back.

A log pops in the fire as the rain continues. My house now smells of smoke, mud, and him. I climb farther into the bed and recline at his side. I still hold the cloth to his head as I wrap him in my arms and run my nose up the side of his neck.

I think Michelle would be angry to see how happy I am.

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Meet the Author

Sara Dobie Bauer is a bestselling author, model, and mental health / LGBTQ advocate with a creative writing degree from Ohio University. Twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize, she lives with her hottie husband and two precious pups in Northeast Ohio, although she’d really like to live in a Tim Burton film. She is author of the paranormal rom-com Bite Somebody series, among others sexy things.

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Aug 13

Release Blitz: In Vino Veritas by Sydney Blackburn (Excerpt & Giveaway)

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Title: In Vino Veritas

Author: Sydney Blackburn

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: August 13, 2018

Heat Level: 2 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 33200

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, family drama, gay

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Synopsis

Anthony Beretta inherited the family winery at the tender age of twenty-four. It’s a struggle to keep it up, but he loves it and is determined to make it work even if it kills him. That is, if a motorcyclist doesn’t kill him first. He initially judges the man, attractive as he may be, on the basis of his appearance and apparently limited vocabulary. He soon discovers he’s wrong, but by then Oscar Kennett has already judged Anthony on his appearance.

Oscar thinks Tony Beretta is uptight and snobbish, and Tony’s speech for the charity they’re working on together reinforces that, even when he finds out Tony did it just to push his buttons. His adorable curls and sexy glasses might not be enough to change his mind, but maybe there’s more to Tony than meets the eye.

Excerpt

One: Beretta Estate Winery
Anthony Beretta hovered in his office, listening to his cousin Katie extol the virtues of their Concord wine.

“It’s a heritage grape,” she was saying, “the kind they make grape juice from.”

Because wine that tasted like commercial grape juice was so popular. Still, there were customers to extol its dubious virtues to, and that was something. Didn’t mean he wanted to meet them, not over the Concord.

“It makes a great spritzer and is the perfect base for a sangria,” she continued. “Not too sweet, but with a full fruity flavour.”

He had to hand it to her. She knew how to sell it. Then again, Katie loved the winery almost as much as he did.

He moved away from his office door and sat behind his desk, looking once more at the open agenda. The winery hosted events, mostly weddings, and provincial regulations had recently changed. He had an appointment with his insurance broker in Bayham in little more than an hour. Which was why he was wearing his suit, instead of the jeans, T-shirt, and heavy cotton button-down he normally wore when he worked at the tasting room. He tugged at the lavender tie that felt like it was strangling him.

After checking the time on his phone once more, Anthony cleared his desk and locked the files away. No one else needed to know how shaky the winery’s finances were. He got to his feet and patted his jacket pocket for his car keys.

There was a mirror beside the door, so one could double-check one’s appearance before going to talk to customers. Anthony gave himself a critical look, pushing his glasses up his nose automatically. The mirror showed him what he was—a rail-thin man just shy of six feet tall, with hair that would never look anything other than dishevelled and dark-framed glasses. At least the glasses went some way towards disguising the shadows under his eyes. He looked like an upended mop, albeit a well-dressed mop.

He scowled. He’d much rather be in his jeans and work boots, out with his stubborn Foch vines. Three years ago, he’d put those bastards in, after his father had the gall to die of a heart attack.

His mouth tightened. He couldn’t think of his father without a sour mix of anger, grief, and guilt.

A discordant jangling let him know the customers had left, and he pushed his door open wider just as Katie rounded the corner. “Ant,” she said, “so glad I caught you. Could you pick up some of that jalapeño sauce from the Mexican store? It really shows off the Viognier. It’s a hard sell on its own.”

He refrained from scowling. Ant was a childhood nickname he’d long outgrown. His name was Anthony. She was right about the Viognier, though.

“Jalapeño sauce. Yes.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve thought about giving me Friday off,” she said, her tone rising at the end of the sentence, but not quite enough to make it a question.

He stifled a sigh. “And you’re not asking Leigh to switch with you because…?”

“Because it’s her wedding shower. Jesus, Ant, pull your head out of your ass once in a while.”

He ground his teeth as he bit back a sharp reply. “Fine. You have Friday off.” It wasn’t like he had anything better to do on a Friday. The tasting room closed at seven. He could catch up on the paperwork while he ate, and on Saturday, he could spend the day in the vineyard, trying to discover why the Foch vines were underproducing.

“You’re a prince,” Katie replied, but her snark had hardly any bite.

Happy employees were long-term employees, his father had always said. Katie really did care about the winery. She just had a social life. He shouldn’t be so hard on her.

And what about my happiness?

As the owner of the winery, there was no one around to see to his happiness. He didn’t even know what would make him happy anymore.

“Sorry, Katie.” He forced a smile. “Do you mind picking out a gift the estate can give her?”

“Yeah, give me a hundred dollars. It can be from the winery, you, Aunt Rosie, and me.”

“Take it from petty cash.”

“There’s no petty cash left, remember?”

He turned to hide his wince. “I’ll take some money from the account while I’m out.”

She hesitated. “The Wine and Song event will go on this year, right?”

“That’s why I’m going to town.”

“I know. It’s just… Is there anything I can do?”

His answering smile was forced. “Be careful what you volunteer for, cuz. Keep your fingers crossed the insurance hasn’t gone up too much.”

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Meet the Author

Sydney Blackburn is a binary star system. Always a voracious reader, she began to write when she couldn’t find the stories she wanted to read. She likes candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach… Oh wait, wrong profile. She’s a snarky introvert and admits to having a past full of casual sex and dubious hookups, which she uses for her stories.

She likes word play and puns and science-y things. And green curry.

Her dislikes include talking on the phone, people trying to talk to her before she’s had coffee, and filling out the “about me” fields in social media.

Besides writing, she also designs book covers for poor people.

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