Oct 22

Release Blitz: Teacher’s Pet, Volume Two by Lee Welch, Elizabeth Coldwell, Elna Holst, Riza Curtis, Danielle Wayland, Karmen Lee, Morwen Navarre, Maryn Blackburn (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Teacher’s Pet, Volume Two

Author: Lee Welch, Elizabeth Coldwell, Elna Holst, Riza Curtis, Danielle Wayland, Karmen Lee, Morwen Navarre, Maryn Blackburn

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: October 22, 2018

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Female/Female

Length: 75900

Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal, Historical, fantasy, magic, historical, college, contemporary, grief, bdsm, athlete, friends to lovers, vacation, cleric, holiday

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Featuring

Eight Stories of Lessons Outside the Classroom

A Spell for Master Vervain by Lee Welch

Finding the Words by Elizabeth Coldwell

The Silent Treatment by Elna Holst

One Small Step by Riza Curtis

Shedding Doubt by Danielle Wayland

Academic Temptations by Karmen Lee

The Sidhe’s Apprentice by Morwen Navarre

Press “Copy” to Begin by Maryn Blackburn

Blurbs

A Spell for Master Vervain by Lee Welch
Apprentice magicians aren’t supposed to fall for their masters, but after a year of longing, Kit is desperate for Master Vervain. Kit casts a forbidden spell to raise an incubus doppelganger of his master—oh, the things he’ll do with that incubus! But Kit’s invoking forces he can’t control and anything can happen when love and magic are mixed.

Finding the Words by Elizabeth Coldwell
On a simple night out, Brendan’s life changed forever. He gave up college lecturing for the world of private tutoring. He may be a virtual recluse, but at least he’s safe. When student Zack approaches him for help with understanding poetry, he’s reluctant to take him on, afraid any connection to his old life might stir up the memories.

Being around Zack awakens long-buried desires in Brendan. He wants to act on his impulse to get closer, but he needs to find the words to say how he really feels.

The Silent Treatment by Elna Holst
Reverend Jane Sinclair has been preaching nothing but fire and brimstone lately. After being dumped by her long-term partner, her mood has been going from bad to worse, and it deteriorates further when her vicar strong-arms her into going off on a yoga retreat. Once she arrives at Serenity Farms, however, the sultry and playfully dominant yoga instructor soon has her singing quite a different tune. A very, very quiet one.

One Small Step by Riza Curtis
Student mage Ilya regrets not paying more attention in class when he teleports two hundred miles instead of the hundred yards he was supposed to go. Concussed, exhausted, and completely underdressed for the bitter winter weather, Ilya is rescued by the handsome Søren.

Sparks fly between the two mages while Ilya recovers, but Ilya must return home. Unable to use his magic and not skilled enough to attempt teleporting back, even if he could, Søren insists on making the journey with him. But train rides and bandits reveal something more between them.

Shedding Doubt by Danielle Wayland
Twenty-six-year-old Grayson is on a mission to get the most out of his gym membership, but when he goes at it too hard on his first day and slips off the treadmill, embarrassment makes him want to quit. Heath, a gym rat, rushes to his aid and offers to help. Initially suspicious of his motives, Grayson reluctantly accepts his help.

The more time they spend together, the more their friendship grows. They both have internal battles keeping them apart, but a Halloween party might just be the place to have a heart-to-heart.

Academic Temptations by Karmen Lee
Twenty-three-year-old Savannah Archer has kept her sexuality buried for years out of fear of being ostracized by her disapproving community. After getting pregnant in high school and putting off college for five years to raise her son, she is finally attending college—away from the prying eyes.

In her first class of the semester, she meets Anetta Springs, who is not only her professor, but also her academic advisor, and the attraction is immediate. Savannah and Anetta both know that the potential consequences of a teacher-student relationship are life-changing, but a book club and a meddling sister may not give them a choice.

The Sidhe’s Apprentice by Morwen Navarre
For anyone serious about magic, studying with a Sidhe Master is essential. Alistair Brady is very serious, and when he’s chosen at a Calling—a search by the Sidhe for new students—he’s elated. However, his assigned Master, Cianán, doesn’t want a new student and makes it painfully obvious.

Despite Cianán’s disdain, Alistair is determined to learn magic. But Alistair has difficulty finding the place inside where magic lives, and even the simplest spells continue to elude him. He just needs to figure out what’s missing, while trying not to let his growing attraction to the cold and aloof Cianán show. It takes a backfiring spell to show both Alistair and Cianán exactly what’s missing to make Alistair’s magic come alive.

Press “Copy” to Begin by Maryn Blackburn
Dr. Marissa Muniz worked hard to earn her Ph.D., so she is rightfully outraged when she detects plagiarism in the work of wealthy grad student. When Muniz confronts Libby Highsmith, the young woman begs for a second chance.

Ms. Highsmith must propose a new master’s thesis and design a project to serve as punitive measures. Muniz accepts the thesis proposal but balks at the project—a replica of the paddle used in private schools and a contract promising secrecy.

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Oct 22

Release Blitz: Spare Parts by T.J. Land (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Spare Parts

Author: T.J. Land

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: October 22, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 91600

Genre: Science Fiction, space travel, sentient species, robots, spacemen/aliens, humor

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Synopsis

Ugh, organics are revolting. Damp, inefficient, prone to leaking—everything Meteor despises. The last thing he and his accomplices Gloss and Spike want to do is set foot on a planet infested with billions of the horrible things. To add insult to injury, to escape detection while on Earth, they’ve no choice but to disguise themselves as the aforementioned moist bipeds. The indignity is almost more than his circuits can bear.

But there’s no alternative. For centuries, Meteor, Gloss, and Spike were nothing more than three of thousands of robots programmed to serve the whims of a hyper-advanced intergalactic species. If they want to avoid being recaptured by their old owners, they need to find a weapon hidden millennia ago in Earth’s soil. Meteor’s ambitions, however, don’t stop at merely escaping capture. He’s got big plans for the species that built him to be a slave. Big, violent plans. And it’ll all work out perfectly provided he can keep reminding the other two of what they’re on Earth to do.

What they’re not there to do is have fun. But flighty, excitable Spike quickly forgets that.

What they’re not there to do is learn about kissing. But cold, analytical Gloss finds his attention drawn that way regardless.

What they’re not there to do is become human. But Meteor has spent several hundred years bored out of his mind and humans…well, damp as they are, they’re not boring. Which is a problem, because Meteor can’t afford distractions—not with their owners searching the galaxy for them and getting closer every day.

Excerpt

Spare Parts
T.J. Land © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter 1
The Faceless Man

The ship crashed into a mountainside and broke into several thousand flaming pieces.

In retrospect, it would turn out to be the most surmountable challenge the three of them would face that day. They emerged from the wreckage perfectly intact, having been encased in a force field, and quickly set about disposing of the evidence. The ship’s scattered remains were vaporized, which took only an hour. The damage done to the mountain—most noticeably a crater in which the largest chunk of their vessel was lodged—posed a more serious problem. Luckily, the impact had compromised the structural integrity of the rocky outcropping just above the smoldering cavity, and as they were pondering the dilemma, there was a rumble, a roar, and a massive rockslide covered it up.

“Excellent,” said Meteor, his tone implying that this had been his plan all along.

Well, no. Not “his” tone, not really. No human language offered pronouns equivalent to those which they’d used to refer to themselves in their previous lives. They’d decided, when they were teaching themselves the language preferred by those who inhabited this region, to use the pronouns considered appropriate for human men, for the simple reason that that was what they were pretending to be. Of all the skills they’d acquired during the last few months while learning how to pass for humans, this had vexed Meteor the most. Weeks had been spent pacing up and down the ship mumbling “he, his, him” and trying to make the words stick in—hah! Success!—in his head.

Dusting themselves off, they climbed to the mountain’s peak and gazed down at the city in the distance.

“Success, comrades,” Meteor said, spreading his arms as though to absorb the electricity he could sense flowing through every towering structure. After so long hurtling through the black, empty void, it was immensely refreshing.

But for two small facts, any passerby glancing Meteor’s way would have written him off as unremarkable in every respect. He had two arms and two legs, and was of average height, average weight, and average musculature. His dark brown hair was short and its style almost aggressively boring. All that distinguished him from millions of entirely average men was his nudity and his face. To wit: he didn’t have one. While the rest of his body had been covered in synthetic skin, his chin, cheeks, and forehead were all bare, gleaming metal.

Gloss placed a hand on his shoulder, probably less a gesture of congratulations and more a precaution in case their leader, in his enthusiasm, leaned too far forward and toppled off the cliff edge. He did have a face, a brown and narrow one to which the aforementioned passerby would have assigned an age range of eighteen to twenty-one. He was tall and skinny, and his hair fell limply to his shoulders. Because of a glitch in the program they’d used to design their disguises, it was a garish shade of pink. “All seems to be as we expected. Singular yellow sun, singular large oblate spheroid satellite, atmosphere a combination of nitrogen and oxygen, gravity roughly seventy percent of that which we were accustomed to aboard the ship.”

“Why can’t I see anything? It’s all blurry,” complained Spike, who was short with muscles packed into every inch of his small body, beige skin, and a wild crop of black hair that stood straight up in spikes as though in the grip of a potent gel. This, in fact, was the reason behind the name he’d chosen for himself. Unlike the other two, who’d simply named themselves after things they liked—fiery emissaries from the void that destroyed everything in their path and the shine you achieved after a lengthy polishing—he’d felt that his name should in some way match his appearance. An odd notion, but then, there were many things about Spike that Meteor found rather odd.

“This is your first experience of natural light. Did you calibrate your optical receptors before landing, like I told you?” Gloss asked patiently.

“Oh. Right. Okay, now I can see. Wow, the sky’s really blue. Never seen blue like that before. What’re those things?”

“Those are birds. Winged organic lifeforms. Vertebrate. Endothermic. Some species form part of the human diet.”

Spike raised his arm, following their flight path with his fingertip. “That looks like so much fun. Why couldn’t we have disguised ourselves as those?”

“To business!” Meteor snapped. His henchmen occasionally needed encouragement to keep their minds on the task at hand.

“Quite so, leader,” said Gloss, turning to face the city. “The target location is home to six million inhabitants spread across approximately seven hundred square kilometers. Temperate climate, though prone to violent storms in Winter. Prosperous, as human settlements go. That’s all the data we have at our disposal.”

“Initial impression?” Meteor asked.

Gloss made a series of low-pitched clicks. In their language, the sound conveyed ambivalence bordering on mild disdain. “It’s messy. Why are all the structures of varying heights? I dislike that intensely.”

“I think it’s spiffy,” said Spike, who’d grasped the vagaries of human slang more adeptly than the other two. “Ooh—look at that!”

He pointed to the highway that ran into the town’s heart, and the silver and black vehicle shooting down it.

“A motorcycle,” said Gloss.

“I want one.”

“Why? They’re primitive and inefficient. The only advantage they offer is to humans who can’t travel long distances because of their limited physical capacities.”

“Weak bodies. Low energy. Typical organics,” grunted Meteor. If he’d had an upper lip, it would have drawn into a sneer.

They made their way down the mountain. It was slow going. They’d spent ages unlearning the rigid gait that came naturally to them in favor of a more organic walking style, keeping their stances relaxed and their arms loose (“Imagine you’re a bag of greasy liquid,” Meteor had told the other two). By necessity, all their hours of practice had taken place on the ship’s perfectly smooth floor. Emulating human walking on rocky, uneven terrain was a frustrating business.

“We’re going to need to do something about your visage, Meteor,” Gloss observed when they had at last reached level ground, the green fields surrounding the town stretching out in front of them.

“Any ideas?” said Meteor. He was distracted by the unpleasant realization that, as bad as walking on uneven rock had been, the soil beneath his feet was immeasurably worse. It was soft. It squelched, as though the entire planet was one giant organic life-form and he was stepping on its moist flesh. Ugh.

“I might be able to make more synthetic skin if I can get my hands on the necessary materials and equipment. Perhaps instead of all three of us going into the city together, Spike and I should go alone and come back for you when I’ve…”

“No. We’ll remain together at all times, at least until we’ve established a base of operations.”

“Understood, leader. In that case, when we procure clothing, we’ll try to find some sort of cover to place over your head so the humans don’t notice the problem.”

Spike, whose attention had been fixed on a flying insect, gave him a curious look. “Clothing? What’s that?”

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Meet the Author

T.J. Land is a South African writer of erotic romance and sometimes other things. Her main inspirations right now are her plants, Emily Carroll’s art, and her seething hatred for the final season of Downton Abbey. She hopes you’re hanging in there.

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Oct 22

Release Blitz: Life Underwater by Matthew J. Metzger (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Life Underwater

Author: Matthew J. Metzger

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: October 22, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 55300

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, academia, trans, non-binary, agender, asexual, interracial/intercultural, disability/phobia, family issues, #ownvoices

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Synopsis

Ashraf never thought he could fall in love. So when he falls hard and fast for marine biologist Jamie Singer, it’s a shock to the system—in more ways than one.

Even if he can wrap his head around what love is and how relationships work, Ashraf’s not sure this is viable. He’s hydrophobic. And Jamie’s entire world revolves around the sea. What’s the point of trying if so much of Jamie’s life is inaccessible to Ashraf?

But Ashraf has vastly underestimated the pull of loving Jamie. For the first time, he wants to face the water, rather than flee from it. He has underestimated the power of love in making people brave, stupid, or a little bit of both.

Maybe it’s time to take a leap—and sink or swim.

Excerpt

Life Underwater
Matthew J. Metzger © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
He was getting funny looks.

It was an airport. Of course he was. It didn’t matter that he was waiting at the arrivals gate, and he didn’t have a bag. Ashraf always got funny looks in airports.

For once, though, he didn’t care.

Because the flight from Sydney had clicked over to “arrived” nearly forty-five minutes ago. And Australian accents were starting to float out of the tunnel. His phone had already beeped in his pocket twice.

Jamie: Landed safe, see you soon, love you! xxx

Followed, not ten minutes later, by a second.

Jamie: Don’t go to mosque tonight? I want you all to myself. Please? xxx

Six weeks was almost over.

Mosque could definitely wait.

He saw Professor Hanley first, with his customary battered backpack and fresh-from-the-jungle look. The man was a walking biohazard, and ticked every one of the absent-minded professor stereotypes, from the shabby jacket with the patched elbows to the Einstein-after-electrocution haircut. At his elbow loped his research assistant, George, looking like he’d not slept for the whole trip. He probably hadn’t. And behind them, weighed down with souvenirs and suntans, their brand new PhD students, Meg and Jamie.

Ashraf began to smile.

The sight of Jamie, even after six weeks, was as familiar as though it had been six hours. That fluffy beanie hat. The strays of light-brown hair escaping around the edges. The spray of freckles that had eluded the sun cream. The small ears and sharp jaw, where Ashraf liked to trail his fingers down from shell to shoulder and feel the life underneath his touch. The bright, brilliant brown eyes that would dim shyly when he did.

That lit up like fireworks in the dark when their gazes met.

“Ashraf!”

The yell was like coming home. Warm. Wanted. Safe—even if the weight that smashed into his chest was anything but. Ashraf staggered, squeezing tight around skinny shoulders and trying to breathe past the scarf that smothered his face. Legs snaked around his thighs and clung too. He hadn’t had a four-limbed hug in six weeks, and he never wanted to put them down.

But he did.

If only to catch both arms around a lean back, and kiss them.

Fists clutched at the front of his jacket. That beautiful face turned up into his own. Feet pushed up into perfect ballet points, and Ashraf could have stayed right there, holding his entire world in the circle of his arms, holding that weight like it was nothing, forever.

Even if he wasn’t allowed.

The kiss was broken by a laugh, a nose rubbing against his own, and the brightest eyes in the world.

“Welcome home, Jamie.”

“Missed you,” Jamie enthused and wriggled against his chest as though hugging, without actually putting their arms around him. “What are you doing here? I was all set to surprise you at work!”

“I win,” Ashraf said simply and squeezed. Jamie squeaked, coming up off their feet entirely. “I borrowed Tariq’s car.”

“Oh my God!”

“So do you need to go back with the others, or…”

“Or,” Jamie said firmly and bounced up on the balls of their feet again to deliver a short, sharp kiss. “Let me just say goodbye. Stay right there. Right there!”

Ashraf obeyed. He couldn’t stop smiling. He was getting funny looks again, but for an entirely different reason. Six weeks had been hard—but harder than he’d realised when Jamie smiled like that. Missing them had turned into a sharp, awful pain just with that one smile, and Ashraf didn’t even like the ten feet that parted them as Jamie ricocheted around the others, collecting hugs from Meg and the professor, and pompously shaking George’s hand before dragging him into a hug too.

So when they came back, still wearing their entire personality on their face, Ashraf reeled them in by the jacket and locked his arms around the small of their back.

“Hello,” Jamie whispered against his mouth.

Ashraf silenced them, but only briefly before the laugh spoiled it, and Jamie was nuzzling his cheek.

“You’ve not shaved.”

So?

“I like the bearded look. Very professorial.”

Good.

“Bet Tariq doesn’t know you borrowed the car to pick me up.”

Nope.

“Bet he’d be pretty upset to get sin all over it too.”

Probably.

“Want to get sin all over it?”

“Yes.”

A smile creased against his cheek, and teeth gnawed lightly on his jaw before the warmth, the weight, the wonder, pulled away. The loss was staggering. Painful. Too soon.

“Come on,” Jamie said. “Take me home in style.”

Ashraf slid their fingers together and decided to take the scenic route.

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

Matthew J. Metzger is an ace, trans author posing as a functional human being in the wilds of Yorkshire, England. Although mainly a writer of contemporary, working-class romance, he also strays into fantasy when the mood strikes. Whatever the genre, the focus is inevitably on queer characters and their relationships, be they familial, platonic, sexual, or romantic.

When not crunching numbers at his day job, or writing books by night, Matthew can be found tweeting from the gym, being used as a pillow by his cat, or trying to keep his website in some semblance of order.

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Oct 22

Blog Tour: Commitment Collection by Karen Botha

 

Title: Commitment, A Gay Romance Series Collection

Series: Buckle Up #1, G-Force #2 & Jump Start #3

Author: Karen Botha

Publisher: Self-Published

Release Date: October 18th

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 612 pages

Genre: Romance, MM Romance

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Synopsis

On the road of life, passion is what drives us, but love makes us stay the course.

Elliott Judd is a superstar race car driver and hotter than hell. Men and women fall at his feet and he enjoys the easy pickings.

Kyle Beaumont, a straight mechanic with a body to die for, joins the racing team of his dreams with his mind fixed on the job.

But as the racing seasons come and go, these men realize they might be racing to the same trophy, each other. With their physical and emotional exploits driven to new depths, they face devastating disruptions when the past crashes into them. Are their feelings for each other enough to keep them on the right track?
Find how passion and lust turn to love, and whether these driven men focus on happiness in the journey or the destination in this hot, sexy three-book m m romance series.

Download your copy of this gay romance series, Commitment Collection 1 – 3 now.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

This Commitments book is part of a fiction series of m/m gay romance books. The books included in this lgbt romance collection are the first three books; Buckle Up, G-Force and Jump Start. The rest of the mm romance books in this gay series, Ignition, Turbo Charged and Pole Position may be downloaded on kindle or purchased separately as paperbacks.

Buckle-Up #1

Passion, lust and desire are the fuel that drives us. So, buckle up for the ride of your life.

Elliott Judd is a superstar race car driver and hotter than hell. Men and women fall at his feet and he enjoys the easy pickings. No one has tamed this wild stallion, but is he ready to settle down for the right person?

Kyle Beaumont, a straight mechanic with a body to die for joins the racing team of his dreams, and with his mind fixed on the job, he doesn’t realise that he is Elliott’s next trophy of choice.

As the racing season and the fight to be the world number one starts, so too does Elliott’s game of seduction.
Will Elliott crash and burn, or will Kyle succumb to this gorgeous man’s onslaught?

Buckle Up is the first book in a gay romance series by Karen Botha and a story of unlikely love.

G-Force #2

Love breeds intensity.
Intensity breeds passion.

Recovered from a life-threatening accident, Kyle Beaumont is a powerhouse who is eager to show Elliott Judd just how far he can push his hotter than ever physique. Their physical and emotional exploits are driven to a depth neither has ever experienced with anyone else.

As a racing driver superstar, Elliott loves handling power, and he’s geared up for taking everything Kyle throws his way. In fact, he craves it. But, when the past smashes into their lives, is the couple prepared to handle possibly devastating disruptions?

Set in a world of fast cars, intense love, and a burning desire to win at all costs, this is a love story brimming with unbridled lust. Join Elliott and Kyle as they race their demons to the finish line in hopes of taking home the ultimate prize-their undying love.

Jump Start #3

Falling in love is easy.
Making it work, well, that’s where the fun begins.

Falling in love with Kyle Beaumont helped Elliott Judd find a romantic piece of himself he didn’t know existed. The two men take the next step in their relationship when Kyle moves into Elliott’s place, but despite the passion he feels for his talented mechanic and lover, the scorching hot race car driver suddenly feels out of place in his own home.

Kyle adores Elliott, and thinks of him as the love of his life he didn’t see coming. But calling a mansion home and fitting into Elliott’s space is more of a culture shock than he’d anticipated.Join Kyle and Elliott as they adjust to sharing their lives with one another, both in and out of the spotlight. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you’ll wonder if these two will ever get it right.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Karen Botha was born in Lincolnshire England where her father was in the royal air force. As a young girl she always had a passion for reading and writing. Working most of her adult life in digital marketing didn’t leave her much time to pursue her passion for stories. at the age of 36 She retrained for a reflexologist and started working for herself. This helped her free up more than enough time to enjoy a re-found passion for writing.

Her first novel was inspired by true life experiences and tales from clients. But don’t believe everything you read.

She enjoys traveling rugby and motor sport, this gives her inspiration and ideas for her books.
The first in the new lgbt series is a mm romance novel about a racecar driver and his mechanic.
She currently lives in London with her Husband and rescue dog called Shadow.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail | Instagram

Tour Schedule

10/22 – Divine Magazine

10/23 – MM Good Book Reviews

10/24 – The (Really) Naughty Corner

10/25 – Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author

10/26 – My Fiction Nook

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Oct 15

Release Blitz: Legacy Strain by Taylor Brooke (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Legacy Strain

Series: Isolation, Book Three

Author: Taylor Brooke

Publisher:  NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: October 15, 2018

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Female, Male/Male, Female/Female

Length: 61100

Genre: Science Fiction, New adult, sci-fi, romance, menage, polyamory, captivity, super-soldiers, dystopia, PTSD, trauma, medical experimentation

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Synopsis

War is on the horizon.

After fleeing the white-walled labyrinth where Brooklyn and her friends were caged, trained, tortured, and studied, the group of renegade Omens prepare for the fight of their lives. But an unexpected arrival from Kirin—the dangerous, secret project Juneau has kept locked away in Isolation’s main facility—complicates things.

Despite the rumors surrounding Kirin’s loyalties and capabilities, Brooklyn decides to make an alliance. Together they form a plan to rescue their friends and take down Isolation once and for all.

Julian Matsumoto is strung between two sides of his heart.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and freedom always has a cost. Julian doesn’t know if he has what it takes to pay the price, especially if that price is Kirin’s life. But the Legacy Strain is being weaponized and they don’t have time to waste.

This is their only chance to escape Juneau Malloy for good, and Brooklyn Harper has been fighting for too long to back down now. Armed with deadly skills and a hunger for vengeance, the Omen Operatives set out on a risky mission to eradicate Isolation, contain the volatile Legacy Strain, and earn the freedom they’ve been chasing since Camp Eleven.

Excerpt

Legacy Strain
Taylor Brooke © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
They buried Plum in the garden.

Rain had softened the ground. Nicoli threw seeds into the dirt with her and said a prayer. Brooklyn couldn’t concentrate on anything. Not the shovel she held or the blood on her hands or the pile of soldiers drenched in gasoline on the other side of the house. Cambria had stopped crying a few minutes ago. They put a bundle of flowers on the mossy mound that served as Plum’s grave. Nicoli didn’t ask for help burying Michelle, but Brooklyn shoveled with him anyway.

Smoke rose from the pile of soldiers they’d killed and Isolation had abandoned, scented like rubber and skin and hair. They had no identification. No phones or pictures or wallets. One wore a rosary, but that was all. Brooklyn and the others waited for a few hours, wondering if the sirens wailing in the distance would grow closer. They didn’t. No police. No other soldiers. No Surrogates. No one came.

Isolation had left them behind.

Brooklyn had no idea what the next move would be—Isolation’s or her own.

“I’m sorry,” Nicoli said. He sprinkled flower petals over Michelle’s grave. “You know that, right?”

Brooklyn didn’t say anything until he looked at her. “Are you talking to your sister or me?”

“You.”

She listened for chatter. There was none. She listened for doors slamming, plates shattering—for Dawson’s anger. But it was quiet. “Was it true what Kirin said? She would’ve killed us?”

“She would’ve tried to.” He didn’t have much left to lose, but his audacity still surprised her. “Michelle was as right as she was wrong a lot of the time. She didn’t think any of you were capable of having normal lives, doing normal things.”

“We did have normal lives,” she said, tempering the heat in her voice. “We did do normal things.”

“Yeah, you did. Then they took you, and they trained you, and now we’re burying my sister and my best friend, and we’re burning bodies in the backyard.” His gray eyes fixed on her. “What’s next, Brooklyn? How does this end?”

Would knowing make the situation easier? Probably not. She didn’t know if they would make it out of this alive, if they would get Porter back in one piece, if they would get him back at all. She didn’t know if they had what it took to take down Isolation. She didn’t know if Kirin was on their side or his own. Brooklyn didn’t know a damn thing.

“It ends when Juneau’s dead and we’re free,” Brooklyn said. She didn’t know if that was the truth, but she thought it had to be. “You should find somewhere safe for Cambria and Lance. They’ll keep hunting us, and people will probably die. I’d rather it not be you.”

“That’s not an option,” Nicoli said.

“It is now.”

Brooklyn walked away before Nicoli could argue with her. She couldn’t force him to go, but she wouldn’t be happy if he stayed. They had targets on their backs. Blood on their hands. There was no good way out of this, no peaceful resolution.

She found Dawson in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter with a bottle of bourbon tipped against his lips.

“You won’t find him at the bottom of that bottle, D,” she said.

His cobalt eyes met hers as he took another swig. He sucked in a sharp breath after he swallowed. His voice was liquor-rasped, low and scathing. “Won’t know ’til I get there, right?”

A heartbroken Dawson was the worst Dawson.

Brooklyn rolled her eyes. She hung her head back and stared at the ceiling. Blood speckled the walls. Remnants of the smoke bombs still lingered. She smelled burning skin, sour bodies, and the hard bite of the liquor on Dawson’s mouth.

Porter was gone.

Porter was gone.

Amber sat cross-legged on the couch beside Cambria. Rayce was outside with Gabriel and Lance, making sure the gasoline and the flames did their job. She had no idea where Julian had gone with Kirin—she didn’t care. Dawson kept drinking. Brooklyn kept breathing. Everything around her continued to fall apart, bit by bit.

She didn’t think they would ever be the hunters. Despite how powerful they were—because of how powerful they were—they would always be the hunted.

“Dawson,” Brooklyn said, barking his name. He didn’t bother looking at her this time, just tipped the bottle against his lips and walked away. His boots made hard sounds on the tile then the stairs. A bedroom door slammed seconds later.

“You should let him be, Bambi.” Amber sighed from the couch. Her leg was messed up, cut by debris and caked in dried blood. Cambria tended to her with a wet washcloth and a thick bandage. “We all know Dawson’s the cold and quiet type. Pushing him might not be the best idea right now.”

“If he doesn’t keep it together, who will?” The question was low under her breath. If Amber had heard her, she pretended not to. Brooklyn appreciated that. “Rest for a while, okay? We’ll figure out a plan tomorrow morning. We need to eat, sleep… Just… I don’t know, we need to breathe for a minute.”

Cambria cleared her throat. “I don’t know what we’ve got left in the pantry. The smoke probably contaminated the fresh stuff. I think there’s bread in the fridge, maybe some fruit. We’ve got canned veggies too.”

“Good,” Brooklyn said. “We’ll make do.”

She listened for sirens. For gunshots. For helicopter wings.

The property was quiet and forgotten. They’d buried their dead. Brooklyn glanced out of the shattered window over the sink. Gabriel stood in the middle of the backyard, staring at the sky. They’d come this far, and they now they had to go back. Brooklyn watched fractured light bounce off Gabriel’s shoulders and nose and chin and saw the dark remnants of blood on her knuckles.

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Meet the Author

Taylor Brooke (she/they) worked as a special effects makeup artist for many years before she wrote her first book. When she’s not writing, she’s exploring the Pacific Northwest, backpacking, or reading. She is the author of The Camellia Clock Cycle and writes #ownvoices Queer books about love, secrets and magic.

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Oct 15

Release Blitz: Faith by Archie Hellshire (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Faith

Series: Graphene, Book Two

Author: Archie Hellshire

Publisher:  NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: October 15, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 30100

Genre: Contemporary, college, friends to lovers, scientist, athlete, political

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Synopsis

Tuck is switching dorms. He’s had enough of his roommate’s odd hours, strange behavior, and teasing from his football teammates, who think there’s something more between them. He’s just put the last pad into his duffel bag when the campus goes on lockdown and the police swarm in.

They say that Tuck’s roommate, Sam, is a wanted man, but Tuck knows better. Sam is no criminal; he won’t even let Tuck kill spiders. Tuck takes a risk and helps Sam escape from the clutches of the authorities, and together they try to make it off the campus. As they try to evade the search parties, it becomes clear that they’re after something more than Sam; a secret project Sam’s been working on that has billion-dollar implications.

Tuck’s not sure what’s going on. He’s not sure what the truth is or who to trust. He’s not sure they’re going to make it out of this. And as the night wears on, he’s not sure how he really feels about Sam anymore. Sam is always sure about Tuck, though, and Tuck isn’t going to let him down.

Excerpt

Faith
Archie Hellshire © 2018
All Rights Reserved

When humans lacked knowledge, they made do with having faith. Our ancestors ventured into the uncharted wilderness, armed only with pointed sticks and confidence that they could fight off anything with pointed teeth. Generations later, someone made a gamble that if a plant grew where it fell, then it should grow where it was planted and be just as edible, thus giving birth to agriculture. The age of exploration dawned when the first mariners set sail for the horizon, fairly certain it wasn’t a waterfall. As history progressed, people attempted more daring and complex endeavors, fueled by the belief that they would, at the very least, survive. Knowledge may be the substance of progress, but faith is the duct tape.

More than anything else, we have, as a species, progressed because of our faith in each other. Our ancestors hunted in packs to bring down larger prey, trusting that the guy they were hunting with wouldn’t kill them so they didn’t have to share. Legal systems were constructed on the premise that enough people would obey the law that sorting out the remainder wouldn’t be a problem. Civilization is built on the basic philosophy that people will be good to each other, people will help each other, and people won’t kill each other when it suits their interests, not usually at any rate.

Unfortunately, faith has a dark side. Wars have been started because one side believed they could win. The different religions of the world have been in an ongoing disagreement about who’s going to heaven and why; sometimes these disagreements have escalated to the point where they found out the hard way. People have murdered, pillaged, and swindled when they thought they could get away with it. Careless hearts have fallen in love with uncaring people.

Faith is a power that lends itself to good just as easily as it lends itself to bad.

It was in the early evening in one fair city, the power of faith was being abused to its breaking point as a group of UFO researchers was convening on the rooftop of a warehouse. On the spacious tar flats high above the city, with a few of the more ambitious stars already visible in the failing light of dusk, men and women set up a complex array of antennae and computers. The less technically minded among them set up a craft services table featuring on-theme menu items like Cattle-Mutilation-Sloppy-Joes and Little-Green-Men-Guacamole.

They were motivated by a bone-deep belief that if they set up their mobile receiving station at just the right time and listened carefully, they would win the electrodynamic lottery and hear a broadcast from an alien world. Tonight, their faith was rewarded by a brief jolt of excitement, followed by a slow stab of inevitable disappointment.

“Oh, lordy!” cried Calvin, looking at the monitor, where the interface displayed a wildly jiggling radio wave. “This is it! We’re receiving a signal!” He reached over to a different machine and flipped some switches with well-practiced speed.

“We’re recording!” he announced, pressing is face up against the screen to make absolutely sure he wasn’t missing anything. “Oh, lordy! This is incredible!”

Susie walked over, shaking her head in exasperation.

“Are you sure it’s extraterrestrial?” she asked, trying to get a view of the graph from around Calvin’s head.

“Of course, I’m sure!”

“It’s just that you were sure last month,” she said. “When you spent four hours recording a Finnish talk show.”

“This is different!” he protested.

“And the week before that, when you followed a UFO with your car.”

“This is completely different!”

“And you followed it to the state line before you realized it was a crack in your windshield,” she finished.

“This is…ow, ow, ow,” he cried, as an older, bulky man pulled gently but firmly on the tuft of hair on Calvin’s temple, prying his face away from the monitor.

The newcomer surveyed the image for a second before a look of disappointment settled on his grizzled face.

“Is it extraterrestrial, Moe?” Susie asked, a faint note of hope in her voice.

“Nah, that’s terrestrial,” Moe said finally. “I saw it before, when I was in the Air Force.”

“At Area 51?” asked Calvin.

“I keep telling you, I was stationed in Britain.”

“Well, that’s what you say…”

“It’s a frequency jamming signal,” Moe finished. “They broadcast noise over various bandwidths and try to block transmissions.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” asked Susie, eyeing the monitor suspiciously.

“Because they’re trying to cover something up!” declared Calvin.

“Or some jamoke is trying to keep people from using cell phones in his store,” said Moe. “But keep recording,” he added, before walking away. “This night won’t be a total loss if we can document a felony.”

But this story isn’t about them. It just occurs near them. This story is about faith. The faith one man had in another, what that faith led him to do, and how that faith changed the person it was bestowed upon.

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

Archie Hellshire is an author with aspirations of being able to write. He was born in the Caribbean where he developed a love of nature, the metric system, and high temperatures. In school, lacking any athletic or social ability, he became a very bookish person, indulging in the works of Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, JK Rowling, and Charles Dodgson. Despite being well read, he struggled with dyslexia and would forever remain horrible at spelling. The advent of Spell Checker reignited his dreams of becoming an author.

Archie grew up in a family and culture that was not tolerant of homosexuals, and he spent his entire young life in the closet, retreating into his books and a rich fantasy life. In the theater of his mind, the romances he read could be edited to be male couples. He dreamed of one day writing his own stories and living his own happy ending.  You can connect with Archie on Twitter.

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Oct 15

Release Blitz: All the Dogs are Dancing by J.M. Goguen (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  All the Dogs are Dancing

Author: J.M. Goguen

Publisher:  NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: October 15, 2018

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 85600

Genre: Paranormal, Romance, paranormal, gay, dystopian future, shifters, vampires, wolves, pack dynamic, AI

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Synopsis

Burner’s world revolved around three things: protecting the wolf pack of Maine, keeping an eye on his best friend Aaron, and helping prepare enough summer food to take on the long road to Quebec for the winter months. But in the ruins of an old shopping mall on a hot summer night, his world crashes.

Now Burner has to face monsters he thought were just stories told to scare pups, and he must traverse a world he’s only seen in old magazines. Meanwhile, his best friend Aaron is dealing with monsters of his own and Burner will do whatever it takes to keep them both safe, even if it means finally admitting how he really feels.

Excerpt

All the Dogs are Dancing
J.M. Goguen © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
East Coast of Maine, Summer, twenty years after the Darkness

Crickets chirped in the background of the campfire’s light. The aroma of hot, dry grass, charred fish, and wild dill filled the air. Five boys ranging in ages from four to eight sat huddled together, watching intently as scarred fingers expertly checked the skewered fish. It was a simple lesson; an easy cooking strategy when out in the wild. Eating raw fish could result in sickness, or worse, death. Teaching the boys early on how to cook would save them trouble later should they get separated or wander off.

It was one of the first things Fern taught me, and he was teaching the boys of the pack. Without burning his fingers, Fern squeezed the sides of the fish, and the boys shifted, glancing at each other. They were hungry, their stomachs grumbling loud enough that even I could hear them from my spot several feet away, but Fern needed them to focus before they ate, as sleep would come too easily with a full belly, and they needed to learn the dangers in the world.

“Do you know who the Deadwalkers are?” Fern’s voice rumbled up from deep in his chest. With his scarred face, straggly white hair, opalescent yellow eyes, and broken-fanged grin, Fern looked frightening, at least to the young pups. They just hadn’t seen him fight yet.

“They aren’t real,” Riley said. His gaze was fixed on the fish, and without looking, he shoved another boy who had crept closer to the fire away. Riley was a young pup, new to our pack this summer, and the first time away from his mother too.

A smile spread across Fern’s face, the sight of his fangs causing the boys to inch away. “Oh, but they are. You see, they live in the old cities, in buildings taller than the water tower in the Old Town, and they devour everything in their path…”

“Mom always told me they weren’t real,” Aaron whispered to me.

Aaron and I were several feet away from the boys to the side of the campfire. Close enough to see clearly, but far enough that the boys ignored us. We weren’t as nearly as interesting as Fern or the food, but we were to set an example to the boys on how to behave. At least, that’s what Fern had told me when I made the fire while Aaron cleared the area for us to sit.

I glanced at Aaron. He was curled in on himself, his knees drawn close to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. His black hair was peppered with white streaks as the result of a sickness he’d had before he turned Wolf. “Mom told me they were stories to scare the new pups, to keep them from wandering off at night,” he murmured.

“You didn’t wander.” My fishing net was on my lap. I was trying to fix the large hole a lobster had made that morning with some cord I’d found in one of the nearby huts. It seemed like something was always breaking and needing repairing. Thankfully the moon was almost full, and the additional light helped me to see what I was doing.

“Burner, you always wandered,” Aaron said, and for the first time in two months since his mother passed, he chuckled. “Fern always had to go hunt you down, and then Den Mother would be pissed off at him for losing you.”

I tried not to smile because it was true. I’d wander off to the Old Town and when Fern would catch up to me, we would walk around the buildings and houses. He would tell me stories from his childhood, about the old world.

I always thought it sounded like a horrible, boring, dead world.

“Fern told me once that most of his scars came from Den Mother,” I joked. I twisted the cord and net together with practiced ease, tying them in a knot.

Aaron laughed, really laughed, the sound carrying into the sky and echoing amongst the silent trees. I was glad to see a part of my friend was still alive inside. It made me smile too.

“Do you two think Deadwalkers are a joke?” Fern demanded.

The young pups were watching us, their trance on the fish, and Fern, broken.

Aaron and I shared a look.

“No, Alpha, they are as real as you and me,” I said. There was no laughter in my voice. No humor, just the firm, unquestioning tone Fern expected me to have when we spoke of pack matters.

Satisfied, Fern nodded. He picked up one of the skewers, examining the fish closely. The pups returned their attention to Fern, or rather, how he was testing the fish. He started speaking again, and Aaron waited a few moments before he leaned closer to me, his breath tickling my ear. “Do you think they are real?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen one, not even in the Old Town.” I ducked my head, pretending to pick at the net.

Aaron stared at the fire, falling into silence. I peeked sideways at him when he suddenly sniffed, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. “I miss Mom,” he choked and buried his face in his crossed arms.

I looked hopelessly at Fern. When he saw Aaron, he motioned for us to go. Net in hand, I stood up and squeezed Aaron’s shoulder.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” I soothed.

“I don’t want to go home.” Aaron stood. His right hand was cupping his eyes, his lips downturned.

Wordlessly, I let go of his shoulder and took him by the hand. Together, we left the campfire and slipped into the dark of the night.

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

J.M. Goguen is a pen name for a Canadian author. A graduate of Simon Fraser University, The Writer’s Studio, and a current MFA creative writing student, she is known to spend more time world building than writing. Growing up with a love of paranormal, horror, romance, and speculative fiction, she will happily chat about topics ranging from interstellar ark ships, werewolves, the zombie apocalypse, and the dangers of lightsabers and space lasers.

Her previous work has appeared in Micro Madness and Emerge 16, and she does manuscript consultations. She lives on the Sunshine Coast of British Columbia, Canada. In her free time, she plays video games, takes too many photos of her cats, and watches the local wildlife.

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Oct 15

Review Blog Tour: Blind Date by Kay Doherty

Title:  Blind Date

Series: Back in the Game Book 1

Author: Kay Doherty

Publisher:  Ninestar Press

Original Release Date: 8/29/2016

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 158 pages

Genre: Romance, Contemporary

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Synopsis

Dekker Callan is content with his life though he knows something is missing. Wanting the kind of love his friends share with their partners, Dekker is talked into taking part in a modeling and dating show as part of a fundraiser. He immediately falls in love with the anonymous, sexy voice on the other side of the wall, but fate has a surprise in store–his mystery man isn’t single.

Slade Gannon wasn’t supposed to take part in the dating show. That spot was for his roommate, Phil, who becomes ill and asks Slade to take his place. Slade has just recently gone through a breakup with his cheating boyfriend. Shocked and pleased when he wins the interest of handsome Dekker Callan, before he can go on the obligatory blind date, his ex asks for a second chance. Believing Dekker can’t possibly be as good on the inside as he looks on the outside, Slade gives George a second chance.

Dekker and Slade hit it off immediately, drawn to each other despite Slade being involved with someone else. They finally get their chance to be together when Slade finds out his boyfriend is still cheating, but just as they seem to discover the happiness they’ve been waiting for, George throws them one last hurdle—and this one may prove to be insurmountable.

Excerpt

If he’d known a week ago that Dekker was more than a handsome face and hot body and would turn his crank as hard as he did, Slade would have told George he’d lost his chance. Why he’d taken the cheating bastard back was beyond him at this moment. Slade would bet any amount of money that Dekker wasn’t like that. Dekker would be loyal and faithful and love the man in his life with everything he had. Dekker had already asked more about Slade’s life and business than George ever had. How sad was that?

Slade closed his eyes as the hand he was holding disengaged from his fingers to find his waist. Strong arms encircled him and a hot, hard body pressed against his back. He felt Dekker’s erection press against his ass as the man moved perfectly in time with Slade’s dancing. The song had a fast Latin beat, and Slade rolled his hips, loving the feel of Dekker’s body and prominent arousal pressed against him from behind. Slade placed one hand on top of Dekker’s at his waist, threading their fingers together, and reached his other hand behind him to pull Dekker’s head forward. Dekker lowered his head without argument and buried his face in Slade’s neck.

The song ended, and Dekker pulled away slightly, but still maintained his hold on Slade’s waist. The waiter found them on the dance floor, and Dekker took the beers while Slade pulled a twenty from his wallet and handed it to the server. He accepted his beer from Dekker and took a long pull. Slade was in so much trouble right now. He wanted Dekker badly, but Dekker deserved to be the center of his lover’s attention, not just a piece of ass on the side.

Dekker drank his beer quickly, took Slade’s from him, and discarded the bottles on an empty table nearby before pulling Slade back into his arms. Slade slipped his arms around Dekker’s neck. Dekker led them in a slow dance despite the fast-paced music blaring around them. Each step caused their pelvises to grind against each other, moving their erections up and down and across one another. Slade pulled Dekker’s head forward so their foreheads touched. Damn, he liked being close to Dekker like this. Slade liked the fact that he was the only one Dekker had eyes for; that he was the only one Dekker was dancing with.

Dekker’s hands slid south over Slade’s butt and then one slipped back up under Slade’s shirt. Slade’s skin was on fire where Dekker’s palm massaged. Slade pushed his hips forward, seeking out more of Dekker’s hardness. The man was an addictive drug. The more of him Slade got, the more of him Slade wanted. Dekker gripped Slade’s ass and pulled him tighter against his body. Slade lifted his eyes to Dekker’s molten hazel gaze. He licked his lips, and Dekker’s eyes dropped to his mouth. Dekker groaned and kissed him, hard. Slade opened his mouth to Dekker’s assault, and the kiss deepened, tongues battling for dominance.

Both men came to their senses at the same time, and they pulled apart. Dekker kept his hands on Slade’s waist, and Slade held onto Dekker’s elbows. Both of them knew the line they had just crossed, but neither was willing to stop touching the other. Dekker pulled Slade back into his arms, and they started dancing again, though this time there was a distance present that had been missing before.

“Fuck,” Dekker said in his ear.

“Yeah,” Slade agreed. He had no words for what just happened between them, but “fuck” seemed to sum it up well.

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

Kay lives in Colorado with her husband and their animal children. Family is important to her, so there are weekly visits to her parents and frequent text messages with her brothers. She has a severe addiction to coffee and Mexican food. Kay loves to read and write and can easily become consumed by it for hours, much to the dismay of the husband and dogs. On occasion she can even be convinced to venture out into world of the living.

Website | Facebook | Twitter |Goodreads | eMail

Tour Schedule

10/17 Amy’s MM Romance Reviews

10/17 Two Chicks Obsessed

10/18 Slashsessed

10/19 Bayou Book Junkie

10/19 Megan’s Media Melange

10/19 MM Good Book Reviews

10/19 Southern Babes Book Blog

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Oct 15

Blog Tour: To Save His Prince, An Ice Dragon Tale by Hurri Cosmo (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  To Save His Prince, An Ice Dragon Tale

Series: Ice Dragon Tales #4

Author: Hurri Cosmo

Publisher:  Self-Published

Release Date: 9/21/18

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 77,000

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, hurt/comfort, Prince/servant, MPreg, Magic

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Synopsis

Emory is a humble kitchen servant intent on working hard so he can continue to earn his daily crust of bread. It is a thankless, back-breaking job, but it is exactly where Emory wants to be. In the magnificent West Quay castle. Because that is where the incredibly handsome, extremely talented Crown Prince Riffyn lives. The beautiful, kind, and attentive man stole Emory’s heart years before when he rescued him and his mother from a band of thieves. Now Emory’s only wish is to be close, so he can simply admire and serve the man.

But a great evil walks the halls of the castle, and Emory stumbles on a heinous plot to not only kill the prince but a possible plan to overthrow the Kingdom. A wicked scheme that includes the use of magic. Of course, being a lowly servant, no one believes Emory when he tries to raise the alarm, including the prince, who has been commanded to choose a bride now, or one will be chosen for him. Even as Emory’s heart breaks for his prince, he has to find a way to save him. But how, when no one, not even the king, the prince’s own father, can be trusted?

Excerpt

Emory was surprised when he opened his eyes next. The room was bathed in bright sunlight. Sucking in a breath for sleeping so late into the day, he shot out of the bed and headed for the door he shared with the prince’s chambers. He grabbed the handle and pushed just enough to see what he could be facing upon entering the prince’s room.

Riffyn was up and sitting at his desk, a tray of what must be breakfast sat beside him. Emory could smell the coffee from where he stood, and he longed for just a taste. But then other fragrances assaulted him. There was bacon and fresh bread, possibly something cinnamon, all sitting on that tray.
“Thank you, Duncan,” the prince said.

Duncan?

Emory had totally missed the servant who had brought the tray in. Duncan moved around the prince, his attention on the man’s torso, which was bare and breathtaking. Evidently, Riffyn had only just woke as well. He sat, shuffling papers, as if searching for one in particular. Emory couldn’t help but stare at the prince. Oh, how he wanted to touch him, suck on those dark nipples.

“Let me pour your coffee, Your Highness,” Duncan breathed from behind the prince, far too close to the prince’s ear. But Riffyn gave no reaction at all. He seemed to be intent on the paper he now held in his hand.
Duncan poured the coffee and handed the mug to Riffyn. “Your Highness?”

“Ahh. Yes. Thank you.” Riffyn took the mug and sipped the steaming liquid as he gazed up at Duncan, who had come around the front again. “You have done well, Duncan.” The prince seemed to coo and then smiled at Duncan, who beamed back. Emory’s heart squeezed tight with jealousy, wishing it was him who the prince gave that smile. So much so, he wanted to cry. But then Emory must have made some sort of noise because the prince glanced over at him standing hiding in the doorway.

“Emory! You’re finally awake. Come out. Breakfast is served. There is plenty for the both of us.”
Emory stepped out from the doorway. He could do nothing else when the prince commanded him. But he did not relish the fact that Duncan startled at the sound of his name and swung around, eyes as big as the plates he had brought in.

“Emory? What are you doing in the prince’s chambers?”

His tone was accusatory, one of authority, gruff and hateful. In all other instances, Emory would have shrunk at its harshness, knowing he had to have committed a heinous crime. But that was not the case here. He had done nothing wrong. Still, his heart jumped painfully, and he did stop immediately, his stomach protesting, probably believing it was going to be starved of food again for possibly days as was the usual punishment. But then Emory’s gaze met Riffyn’s and he instantly calmed.

“Duncan,” the prince challenged quietly from behind him. “Do you believe I need to explain myself to you when I have a guest in my chambers? Is that your place?”

Duncan scowled at Emory before he turned back to Riffyn. “No, my prince. I apologize for my rudeness. Forgive me, Your Highness.” To Duncan’s credit, he did appear to be apologetic. He waited, hands behind his back, and Emory could tell his gaze was on the floor in front of him even though he was turned away from him. Riffyn glanced up to Emory, smiled, and winked, before he answered Duncan.

“You are forgiven. But it will never happen again, correct?”

“No, Your Highness. Never.”

“Good. You are excused.” Once again, Riffyn glanced toward Emory. “Come, Emory. Sit. I will pour you some coffee.” Riffyn picked up the decanter and poured the contents into an empty bowl. “I apologize I did not have two mugs brought up, but I think you should be able to manage.”

Emory hurried to the desk and took the offered bowl, wanting to remind the prince he was not supposed to be serving him, but due to the fact Duncan had yet to actually leave the room, he chose not to say anything. He hazarded a glance at Duncan and the daggers the man was shooting with his eyes made Emory shiver.
“Are you still chilled from last night? You should have brought a blanket with you.” Riffyn rose and walked to his own messy bed, grabbed the top cover, and pulled it off. It was then that Emory realized he had forgotten about his own state of dress, which was only a borrowed nightshirt, clearly too large for him. It was thankfully rather long, but his legs were still very bare, and he couldn’t even fathom how it must appear to Duncan. Riffyn walked to Emory, swept the blanket around his shoulders, and guided him, with his arm around him, to sit in the chair in front of his desk. “As you can see, we have your amazing fresh sweet rolls. You might actually be tired of them, being you work in the kitchen, but they are my favorite.”

“I’ve… never had them, Your Highness.”

“What? Are you serious? Oh yes. The incomparable Master Merrill. I will see to him today. In the meantime, I dare to say, Emory, you are in for a treat.”

Emory had his back to Duncan now, so he couldn’t see him, but he could feel the loathing pouring off him. Then, gratefully, the doors clicked shut, which told him Duncan had finally left and most likely gone running to tell the kitchen master about Emory’s horrible impropriety of being half naked in the crown prince’s chambers. It would be all over the castle before the next sunrise.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Hurri Cosmo lives in Minnesota where she holds tight to the idea that there, where it’s cold a good part of the year, she won’t age as fast. Yep, she avoids the truth as much as she avoids mirrors. But one of the reasons she loves writing is reality doesn’t always offer up a “happily ever after” and being able to take control of that is a powerful lure. Being a happy ending junkie, writing just makes them easier to find. Oh, she doesn’t mind “real life” and she does try to at least keep it in mind when she writes her stories, but she truly loves creating a wonderful couple, knowing they will fall in love and have their HEA. Every – single – time. And, of course, that is exactly the reason she loves reading this genre, too. Give her a glass of red wine, some dark chocolate, and her computer, whether she is reading or writing, and she will entertain herself for hours. The fact she actually gets paid to do it is Snickers bars on the frosting on the cake.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | eMail

Tour Schedule

10/15 Book Review Virignia Lee

10/15 MM Good Book Reviews

10/16 MM Midnight Cafe

10/17 The Blogger Girls

10/18 Dream, Love, Imagine

10/18 Happily Ever Chapter

10/19 Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author

10/19 Stories That Make You Smile

10/19 Love Bytes

10/19 Bayou Book Junkie

10/25 Queer Sci Fi

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Oct 10

Book Blitz: Out in the End Zone by Lane Hayes (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Out in the End Zone

Series: Out in College #2

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: October 10

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 44000

Genre: Romance, New Adult, Bisexual, College romance, Football, Coming out

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Synopsis

Evan di Angelo is an upbeat, good-natured goofball who loves his friends and family… and football. A traumatic accident may have ended his hopes of playing professionally, but he’s made the most of his four years on the field at a small Southern California college. He’s learned the hard way to embrace change, take chances and try things outside of his comfort zone…like agreeing to play fake boyfriends for someone else’s senior project.

Mitch Peterson knows that being his authentic self is the path to true happiness. He’s grown from a shy, quiet kid from a broken home to an out and proud budding internet sensation bound for grad school. An awesome senior project is the key. It’s unlikely anyone will believe the hunky, straight athlete is Mitch’s new lover, but it’s worth a shot. However, as their tentative friendship blossoms into unexpected attraction, the lines between reality and fiction blur for both men. Evan is forced to face old demons and decide if he has the courage to take the next step and come out in the end zone.

Excerpt

Mitch scoffed. “Cooperate, please. This is your intro. Maybe you should put your arm around me and kiss my cheek.”

“Now?”

“Yes. This is a rehearsal, so…go for it.”

I moved to his side, slipped my arm around his waist, and kissed his cheek. His scruff threw me off stride. It wasn’t noticeable because his facial hair was blond, but I could feel it. He smelled and felt different from anyone I’d ever kissed before. Sure, I’d kissed male relatives. I was part Italian. No one in my family shied from physical contact. But a hug and kiss on each cheek from my Uncle Gianni was different from kissing an attractive man. I caressed his cheek impulsively and then leaned in to sniff him the way I’d wanted to since the party. “Mmm.”

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“You smell good. I’ve never kissed a guy I wasn’t related to who had a five o’clock shadow.”

Mitch gave me a funny look. “You kissed me yesterday at lunch.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t shaved since this morning, right? The texture is like sandpaper but in a good way. I like it,” I assured him.

He looked flustered for a second but recovered quickly. “Well, that’ll make the real kiss easier then.”

“Right. When do we kiss, and what’s the intensity level supposed to be? G, PG, PG-13? Or are we going straight to the nasty?” I teased.

“Ha. G is peck on the cheek, which we just covered. PG is peck on the lips. So somewhere in between that and PG-13 works.”

“Got it. Maybe we should practice first,” I said.

“Um…sure.” Mitch turned around and gestured toward the bar stools at the island. “We can sit there, and I’ll set up the tripod a foot or so from where you’re standing now.”

“We don’t have to be in exact position. I just need to get used to touching you. It would be the same with anyone. Guy or girl.”

Okay, fine. I wanted to do it again. I’d thought about him nonstop since the party last weekend. And that throwaway kiss yesterday at the restaurant had opened a Pandora’s box. I was consumed now. I didn’t want to practice kissing him. I had to or I’d go crazy.

“Maybe you’re right. Um…okay. You can kiss me,” he said in a low voice.

“Well, you have to participate,” I chided as I stepped into his space.

“I’m…yes. Do you want to go first? Like…” Mitch set his hand on my hip and inched closer still. “This?”

I lifted my right hand and hovered it above his ear for a moment before threading my fingers through his hair. He suddenly looked nervous, which somehow worked in my favor. I held his gaze, then moved forward and gently pressed my lips to his. And fuck, it felt amazing to be here again. I tilted my head slightly, loving the intoxicating contrast of his soft lips and scratchy chin. Mitch closed his eyes and hooked his arms around my neck so we stood toe to toe and chest to chest. All the ways this felt different no longer applied. I knew what to do here. I was practically a fucking expert.

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Meet the Author

Lane Hayes is grateful to finally be doing what she loves best. Writing full-time! It’s no secret Lane loves a good romance novel. An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. These days she prefers the leading roles to both be men. Lane discovered the M/M genre a few years ago and was instantly hooked. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and won First Prize in the 2016 and 2017 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a newly empty nest.

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