Jun 20

Blog Tour & Giveaway: Snakes Among Sweet Flowers by Jason Huffman-Black

Snakes BannerTitle:  Snakes Among Sweet Flowers

Author: Jason Huffman-Black

Publisher:  Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: AngstyG

Release Date:  June 20

Heat Level: 3

Pairing: M/M

Length: 79k

Genre/Tags: Contemporary, M/M Romance, Suspense, Thriller

Add To Goodreads

SnakesAmongSweetFlowers-Preview

Synopsis

Two-time ex-con Camden Sanders has decided that Hog Mountain—an isolated community on the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia—is the perfect place to continue running small scams without the threat of more prison time. But there are a few problems with this plan. One is the neighborly citizens of Hog Mountain thwarting his dirty dealings at every turn with their kindness. Another is Jackson Rhodes, a closeted Hog Mountain police officer who can see right through Cam’s good ol’ boy act and plans to catch him red-handed despite the attraction they both can feel. But the biggest problem of all is that Cam’s past is threatening to catch up with him, and it could mean trouble for more than just himself.

Excerpt

When Cam parked his pickup in front of the pumps at his station, he was surprised to find a local police cruiser waiting by the closed garage door. A tall blond cop leaned leisurely against the front bumper, staring directly at him as he took his time getting out. The frown on the policeman’s face was at odds with his stance, and although Cam didn’t think he had much to worry about, he couldn’t help the hammering in his heart, the constricting of his chest.

He’d dealt with cops and guards enough to know there wasn’t a one of them that wasn’t a sadistic asshole. They thrived on making people like Cam suffer. Cam had yet to deal with the local law and had hoped his lucky streak would continue. He had to admit the officer knew how to wear a uniform, though, with broad shoulders and slim waist accentuated nicely. Too bad he couldn’t sit in the truck all day and ogle the man instead of having to deal with whatever he wanted. With a sigh, Cam gathered his wits and opened the truck’s door, stepping out, then turning back to grab his breakfast. Well, shit. Wasn’t this morning starting off with a bang.

Instead of walking toward the officer, he aimed for the front door of the gas station. He’d turned the area attached to the garage into a waiting area with mismatched office chairs and an old coffee table from the Goodwill. Cam had to jiggle the key in the lock a few times before the cylinder turned, and as he opened the door, he heard footsteps approaching.

“What can I do you for this morning, Officer?” Cam asked as casually as possible. “Your cruiser giving you trouble?”

Cam sat his breakfast on the counter that ran along the back wall, then stepped over to the window-unit AC and pushed the button to get it going. It wasn’t that hot yet, but it wouldn’t take long to get there. When he still hadn’t gotten an answer from the cop, he turned to find him doing a thorough visual inspection of the area, then stepping over to the glass door leading to the garage and doing the same, canting his head to get as much of a view as possible without entering. Cam frowned.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” Now he had a reason for concern. What was the cop looking for? Cam had a sudden itch to run for it, although he had no idea what he was running from.

The officer turned, and Cam squinted to read the name Jackson Rhodes above the pocket of his uniform. When Officer Rhodes’s hand came to rest on the butt of his gun, it was all Cam could do not to flinch. “Who is the second coffee for, Mr. Sanders?”

Cam glanced over to his breakfast and back to Rhodes, his nervousness kicking up a notch. “I… uh….”

“Is anyone else here, Mr. Sanders?” Officer Rhodes took a step forward.

Shit! Cam was going into a full-out panic. His gaze darted around the room, looking for some way out of the situation, but then just as suddenly, his subconscious gave him a metaphoric kick in the ass. What the hell? Was he going to let this asshole come into his place of business and fuck with him? He had nothing to hide. Well, okay, that wasn’t exactly true, but he wasn’t going to simply crumple over one question.

Cam slipped into his I-give-not-one-fuck persona and looked Officer Rhodes in the eye. “I don’t see where that’s even a little bit of your business, Officer. Want to tell me what this is about?”

Officer Rhodes took a few more steps closer, until he was crowding Cam against the counter in front of his food. “I’ve been hearing tales on your methods of auto repair. From changing the winter air out of tires to replacing dissolved halogen crystals in headlights or the deoxygenized water in a radiator. A quick background check shows you’ve served time in the past.”

Fuck it! Cam thought. He took a step forward too, coming chest to chest and nose to nose with the officer. “Yeah, I done time, and I paid my debt. I’m here making a fresh start and I won’t have you bad talking my business. I have a logbook of work done, signed off by the customers. It shows I did legitimate work, no matter what you hear.”

“I’d like to see this log, if you will,” Officer Rhodes responded. Damn, the man was fine. Light brown eyes sparking with challenge, blond hair cut short in a crew cut. He looks so clean-cut, you’d think he would squeak when he walks.

Instead of pulling out the log, Cam turned toward his breakfast. “Coffee, Officer? I do have two. Might as well share. It was like I knew I was going to have company this morning.” He busied himself by pulling out the creamer and sugar packets from the bag and placing them where Rhodes could get to them, then pulling out the rest of his purchase and divvying up the food as if he’d meant to buy the cop breakfast.

When Cam glanced over, Rhodes was looking around again as if making sure no one else was in the shop. Then he shrugged and started doctoring his coffee to his satisfaction. Cam did the same and took a sip before opening one of the cabinet doors below the countertop. He pulled out a receipt book and pushed it over to the officer, then scooped up his breakfast and coffee and settled into one of the chairs to eat.

While Officer Rhodes leaned over the counter and flipped through the receipt book, Cam took the opportunity to admire the fine backside on display. The cop was built like a brick shithouse and would make a great addition to his spank bank. No doubt Rhodes had a gaggle of cheerleader-esque girls in town who giggled when he walked by. And that was too bad. Cam wouldn’t mind giving the fine officer a strip search.

The sound of a throat clearing brought Cam back from his thoughts. He glanced up to find Officer Rhodes staring at him with a frown on his face. Oops.

Purchase

Dreamspinner Press | Amazon

 

Snakes Square

Meet the Author

893476Jason Huffman-Black could be described as the porn star alter ego of the mild-mannered editor for several LGBT publishers. By day, Jason edits and writes in a cozy chair, while Mr. Huffman-Black travels the globe on such adventurous excursions as wrestling the one-eyed spitting serpent of Tangiers, ass-spelunking into the hidden tomb of King CockTut, and most recently, sharing a prison cell in a small third-world nation with a rather sweaty fur-covered hulk of a man named Javier.

Goodreads Author Page | Twitter

 

Tour Stops

6/20 – Bookaholics Not-So-Anonymous

6/20 – Molly Lolly

6/21 – Divine Magazine

6/22 – The Dark Arts

6/22 – The Novel Approach

6/23 – Joyfully Jay

6/24 – Love Bytes Reviews

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy of Snakes Among Sweet Flowers.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Blog Button 2

 

Jun 17

Book Blitz – Snare by Racheline Maltese & Erin McRae (Giveaway and Excerpt)

Snare 1000x400

Title:  Snare

Publisher:  Torquere Press

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Date:  6/22/16

Heat Level: 4

Pairing: M/M/M Ménage

Length: 26,800 words

Genre/Tags: Gay fiction, paranormal, urban fantasy, menage, M/M romance

Add to Goodreads

Snare Cover

Synopsis

When Elliot Iverson, a municipal employee responsible for paperwork pertaining to New York City’s vampire population, knocks on the door of the Gramercy warren, he wants only to resolve a clerical error. But a sudden snowstorm, a new friendship, and an ill-advised threesome force Elliot to make some big choices about his own life and death.

Excerpt

When Matthew pulls open the door, a blast of wind and snow swirls in. The snow is piled up on the stoop, and as they watch some of it crumbles onto the carpet of the foyer. The street is drifted with white and all Eli can see is billowing white globes of snow around each of the streetlamps.

“Okay, there’s no way you’re leaving,” Matthew declares, pushing the door shut again and cutting off the frigid stream of air. Eli’s glasses fog up again, but only briefly, and once they’re clear he sees Matthew turn to regard him thoughtfully. “Even if the subway’s still open it’s going to take you forever to get home. Do you want to stay for dinner?”

As he asks, he leans forward and puts his hand over Eli’s where he’s gripping the strap of his bag.

All at once, Eli realizes that he is in a house with Dead people and vampires; that if the trains are down he has effectively no way to get home; and that he’s being propositioned.

“Oh my god,” he says. This is entirely the thing his mom had fretted about, at length, when he announced his intention to move to New York. Because con-artists, homosexuals, anarchists, and vampires. It’s her worst nightmare. Maybe there are drug dealers here too.

Matthew tips his head curiously.

“Oh my god,” Eli says, more frantically. “Oh my god. I can’t get home.”

“Yeah?” Matthew asks, nonplussed.

“Horror stories start like this!”

Purchase

Torquere Press

Snare Square

Meet the Authors

 

Erin McRae and Racheline Maltese write the LGBTQ Hollywood romance series Love in Los Angeles (Torquere Press) and the theater-based Love’s Labours series (Dreamspinner Press). Their work has also been published with Cleis Press and Supposed Crimes.

Erin is a writer and blogger based in Washington, D.C. She has a bachelor’s degree in International Relations from the University of Toronto, and a master’s degree in International Affairs from American University where she studied the role of social media in the Arab Spring.

Racheline’s fiction, non-fiction and poetry has appeared in numerous outlets. She is also a producer and writer on Serial Box Publishing’s Tremontaine (available in print from Simon & Schuster’s Saga Press).

Together, they write stories and scripts about the intersection of private lives, fame, and desire.

Facebook | Erin’s Twitter | Racheline’s Twitter | Erin’s Goodreads | Racheline’s Goodreads | Erin’s Amazon | Racheline’s Amazon

 

 

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy of Snare

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Jun 16

Book Blitz – Time of Your Life Anthology (Giveaway and Excerpt)

Time of Your Life 1000x400

Title:  Time of Your Life

Author: Erzabet Bishop, Emjay Haze, Chad Brian Henry, DC Juris, Samantha Luce, Megan McFerren and Val Prozorova, Charles Payseur, Jessica Payseur, Janelle Reston, Rob Rosen, Lynn Townsend

Publisher:  Torquere Press

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Date:  6/22/16

Heat Level: 5

Pairing: M/M, F/F, F/F/F, M/F/M

Length: 56,000

Genre/Tags: Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian, Contemporary,  Humor, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Menage, Poly, New Adult

Add to Goodreads

TimeOfYourLifeCover

Synopsis

The Time of Your Life might slip away if you don’t watch out! Tales from deep space, the open road, reality television, fantasy-academia, and contemporary life are brought together in this collection.

In Jessica Payseur’s Orbits, longtime friends-with-benefits meet unexpectedly on a space station and finally sync their technology.

Warren’s Peace by Emjay Haze, Duet by Megan McFerren and Val Prozorova, and A Change is Gonna Come by Rob Rosen take the reader on the road—via a Caribbean cruise ship, the railway system of France, and the California Interstate, respectively.

A happy home is the goal, but when Chad Brian Henry gives two happily married men constant drooling and barking in the form of A Problem Called Travis, they unhappily realize their aim may not be as true as they thought.

Two authors invite us to weddings! Erzabet Bishop and Lynn Townsend each use humor and surprise, found in the commonplace, to lead newlywed wives in First Night and two grooms-to-be in Wedding March toward discovering and remembering why they went to all this trouble in the first place.

The Color of Magic, by Charles Payseur, lets us watch and learn with three university students, who challenge authority to secure the future. In a more typical college setting, a shy roommate and an outgoing roommate delight each other with A Taste of What’s to Come, written by Samantha Luce.

Straight off the small screen, Food Play Extreme, by Janelle Reston, serves a platter of competition and confidence to three top chefs. And in D.C. Juris’ A Good Bargain, age and experience is indeed a good match for youth and beauty.

Don’t ignore the ticking of that clock—it’s the time of your life!

Excerpt

From “A Problem Called Travis” by Chad Brian Henry

Travis barked. It was a high-pitched yip that grated on Brian’s nerves. The honeymoon was over. The dog was pissing him off.

“No!” Brian screamed and stomped off to the kitchen. Travis followed, prancing at his heels and barking in frustration. He set the plate on the counter a little harder than he meant to, too angry to bother eating while standing at the counter like a fool because a pushy, stubborn ten-pound lump of fur wasn’t satisfied with his own food. Leaving Travis to harass the kitchen island, Brian sat back on the couch colorfully mumbling to himself. He only had one day a week off from the shop most of the time, and he just wanted to enjoy a little me time without having to constantly monitor the brat.

It wasn’t just the food. It was the accumulation of tiny frustrations that built up until Brian wanted to shove the mongrel into a sack full of rocks and toss it in the lake. Housebreaking the dog so far had been a bust. The carpet was starting to reek despite scrubbing it after every accident. They couldn’t keep the trashcan by the sink where it was convenient. Instead it had to be hidden in the pantry, away from persistent claws. And walking the mutt was a nightmare. As affectionate as Travis was around people, he became a terror around other dogs. Snarling and pulling at the leash with a strength that bordered on supernatural any time another dog wandered into view. Brian hadn’t realized how many fucking people owned dogs until he constantly found himself hiding out in crevices between buildings or repeatedly crossing the street to avoid another barkopolypse.

Just let them sniff each other!

He’s just shy!

You need to let him socialize more!

He was sick of the glib advice from people with dogs who knew how good they had it and appreciated a life of constant attention and free food. How the hell was he supposed to socialize the dog if Travis wanted to eat any furry face he saw?

Purchase

Torquere Press

Time of Your Life Square

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy of the Time of Your Life Anthology

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Jun 13

Book Blitz: Plumbers and Other Lovers-Four Short Tales of Love, Lust and Leaky Pipes by Spencer Dryden

Plumbers Banner

Title:  Plumbers and Other Lovers-Four Short Tales of Love, Lust and Leaky pipes

Author: Spencer Dryden

Series Title and Number (if applicable):

Publisher:  Fireborn Publishing

Cover Artist: Brenna Lyons

Release Date:  5/13/16

Heat Level: 3

Pairing: M/F

Length: 100 pages

Genre/Tags: Erotic Romance, handyman, plumber, humor

Add to Goodreads

PlumbersOtherLovers300Synopsis

Plumbers and Other Lovers is a collection of four short stories about skilled tradesmen who stumble into romantic encounters in the course of their everyday, blue-collar lives.

There is a tale for each season, beginning in summer with “Summer Heat”; on to fall for “Love Above See Level”; into the cold of winter with “Then, One Frozen Christmas Eve”; and finally, spring’s “The Accidental Gigolo”. It’s four seasons of love and lust among leaky pipes. You won’t find alpha males, billionaire bad boys, or self-destructive egomaniacs among Spencer Dryden’s leading men–just ordinary guys who are drawn into the orbit of some enticing women.

When the lights are out, the heat is off, or the pipes are leaking, these are the kind of guys a woman wants to see at her door: real men with tools and talent–and some smoldering sexuality. There’s humor, tenderness, and plenty of heat in these stories told from the tradesman’s point of view. Dryden’s breezy style makes for easy reading, something to pass the time while waiting for the plumber.

CONTENT ADVISORY: Three of the stories are re-issue re-release titles.

Excerpt

“We require a deposit of three hundred dollars on all air conditioning repairs,” I said, trying to assert my authority, but my resolve to enforce company policy was eroding fast.

Where did this fantasy start? With her pale blue eyes raking over my body? With her sumptuous lips begging to be kissed? Or the rock hard nipples of her perky breasts pushing out on her sweat stained T-shirt? Actually, I do know, and she knew, too. Honestly, I’m trying to raise my sights, but when my cock goes up, my field of vision goes down. Tracy had me had “hello”.

She eyed my name tag, then smirked. “Roach. Are you the kind I step on or the kind I hold with a tweezers?”

I’ve heard the tease so many times it bounced off without producing the rise she was probably hoping for. “It’s Dave, Dave Roach.”

“Don’t you usually use the first name?”

“My bosses are a bunch of old pot-heads. They think it’s funny.”

Another technician, Donny Tierney, turned the job down, so dispatch sent it to me. From the moment I saw her through the eye of my surging cock, I was fondling and licking those nipples, making them stand like little chocolate confections atop the small, firm mounds beneath, then hoisting her gymnast’s body on to my oaken shaft, ramming her furiously while she moaned and panted for more.

My mind is easily diverted by flights of fantasy. Tracy was pushing all the launch buttons, but there was a job to do and I had to find a way to do it in the midst of a heat wave.

The heating and air-conditioning business thrives on cold snaps and heat waves. We have them both in Minneapolis. We encourage people to plan, but truthfully, it’s a business built on failure–the inconvenient failure of heating and cooling systems.

The Grand Opening Tonite banner over the windows of the old two-story, storefront building told me this was one desperate woman who had called. The nicely restored bar/grill was stifling from the heat and stale from the lack of circulation. My mental cash register was ringing even as I was wondering if she was a natural blonde.

I am sympathetic to tales of woe, but the company has been stiffed so many times, it’s turned my bosses into hard asses. As I stood in front of her, reciting the prepayment spiel, watching hope drain from her slumping body, something touched my heart. Actually, it wasn’t my heart, it was my cock–beating back rationality, as I fantasized about what I would do with her. While she was telling her tale, I had my face buried deep in her pussy, lapping her juices like a man dying of thirst.

She handed me a cold beer, the will-bending elixir of male life. Drinking on the job, another taboo, she had me on the ropes.

“I’ve put every last cent I have into this place,” she said with fierce pride.

“Don’t you have a credit card?”

“Everything is maxed out.”

“This is a bar, you’ve gotta have cash in the till.”

“I can’t tap that or I won’t have enough to make it through the night.”

Noticing I was transfixed by her breasts, she draped a long bar towel over her shoulders, obscuring my view. “Can’t we work something out? I’ll be good for it. I’ve just got to get the AC going or it’s going to ruin my grand opening tonight.”

I looked her in the eyes, silently trying to assert my authority. Then she went totally female; the tears started to pool in those mysterious blue orbs and her lower lip began to tremble. Even her breasts were pouting with the small heaving in her chest. I was a dead man.

“Well, let’s go take a look, maybe I can get the compressor running and buy you some time.”

She squealed with joy, ran around the bar, and planted a big, wet kiss on my stunned lips. Her mouth was juicy, her lips soft, but her kiss was urgent, promising much more. She broke off with a soft moan before I could open my mouth.

“Let’s go see that hateful thing,” I said, gulping the last of my beer.

She grabbed my arm and cradled it between her breasts–a sensation that went right to my groin.

“Wow, you’re like made out of steel,” she said, sweeping her breasts across the arm she held.

I knew what she was doing, but it was working.

She started toward the back door, my arm tightly clasped against her. It was like leading a lamb to the slaughter.

“I’m going to need my tools.”

We did a U-turn and brought my diagnostic pack from the van around to the back of the building. I shook my head when I saw the unit. Everything about it said old and in need of replacement. Without shade, I was sweating in no time, as I struggled with the corroded cover bolts. She stood right by my side, using her towel to wipe the sweat off me like a corner man in a boxing match. Each time she lifted the towel, I got a peek at those firm wet mounds beneath her shirt. My groin ached from the unrelenting erection.

Purchase

Fireborn Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Plumber Square

Meet the Author

bw beardSpencer Dryden is a new writer, but an old guy on the threshold of draining any reserves left in Medicare and Social Security.
In real life he is a handyman, an at-home dad, inventor and web videographer living a quiet life in the frozen tundra of Minnesota (USA).

Like all writers he has a cat but they don’t get along well. He can be found at the usual writer hangouts:

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win a $25.00 Amazon Gift Certificate.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

 

Jun 13

Book Tour: Will & Patrick Wake Up Married by Leta Blake & Alice Griffiths (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Will & Patrick Box Set

Title:  Will & Patrick Wake Up Married Serial

Author: Leta Blake & Alice Griffiths

Series Title and Number: Complete Set, Episodes 1 – 6

Publisher:  Leta Blake Books

Release Date:  5/6/16

Pairing: M/M

Length: 700 Pages

Genre/Tags:  Romantic Comedy, M/M Romance, Happy Ending

Add to Goodreads

Will & Patrick Collage

Synopsis

Join the fun in this romantic comedy serial by best-selling author Leta Blake and newcomer Alice Griffiths!

Episode One: Will & Patrick Wake Up Married

After a drunken night of hot sex in Vegas, strangers Will Patterson and Dr. Patrick McCloud wake up married. A quickie divorce is the most obvious way out—unless you’re the heir of a staunchly Catholic mafia boss with a draconian position on the sanctity of marriage. Throw their simmering attraction into the mix and all bets are off!

Episode Two: Will & Patrick Meet the Family

Meeting the family is challenging for every new couple. But for Will and Patrick, the awkward family moments only grow more hilarious–and painful–when they must hide the truth of their predicament from the people they care about most. Throw in the sexual tension flaring between them and you’ve got a recipe for madcap laughs and surprisingly heartwarming feels.

Episode Three: Will & Patrick Do the Holidays

A couple’s first holiday season is always a special time. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve are magical when you’re in love. Too bad Will and Patrick’s marriage is a sham and they’re only faking their affection for each other. Or are they? Sparks fly in this episode of the Wake Up Married serial. Will the sexual tension between Will and Patrick finally explode in a needy night of passion? Or will they continue to deny their feelings?

Episode Four: Will & Patrick Fight Their Feelings

Will and Patrick have embraced adding hot sexy-times to their fake marriage, but as their emotions deepen, they confront whether or not they want to be more than friends-with-benefits. The heat is high (and occasionally kinky) as Will and Patrick struggle to accept their mutual affection.

Episode Five: Will & Patrick Meet the Mob

Patrick has finally accepted that he’s in love with Will, but his newfound determination to do something about that runs up against his father-in-law’s mobster plans. Will must face the truth about his family before he can fully come to terms with his feelings for Patrick. And Patrick has to decide if this whackadoodle world is something he truly wants to be part of forever.

Episode Six: Will & Patrick’s Happy Ending

Sure, Will and Patrick are in love now, but they weren’t when they got married in Vegas. For Patrick, that’s no problem, but Will can’t shake his doubts that a relationship started through coercion can ever become the real deal. Since the Molinaro crime family has reversed their position on divorce, Will and Patrick have a chance to rectify their drunken mistake. But is divorce the right choice for them?

Purchase

The Wake Up Married serial is now available in several ways:

On Amazon

Complete Set

Episodes 1-3 | Episodes 4-6 | Episodes 1-6
(save between almost $6 or $7 depending on which bundle option you choose)

Individual Episodes
(with the first episode priced at a low .99 and the rest at $2.99)

Other Retailers

Not all episodes are available on these sites yet but should be by the end of July.

Kobo | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | ARe | Scribd

 Will & Patrick Square

Meet the Authors

Leta Blake

imageAuthor of the bestselling book Smoky Mountain Dreams and the fan favorite Training Season, Leta Blake’s educational and professional background is in psychology and finance, respectively. However, her passion has always been for writing. She enjoys crafting romance stories and exploring the psyches of made up people. At home in the Southern U.S., Leta works hard at achieving balance between her day job, her writing, and her family.

You can find out more about her by following her online.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Alice Griffiths

A long-time reader of romance novels, Alice Griffiths finally took the plunge into writing, teaming up with best-selling author Leta Blake for the ‘Woke up Married’ serialized comedy. A lover of tropes, Alice enjoys mining old ideas and putting a fresh, funny spin on them. Formerly working in the newspaper industry, Alice is now an art curator. She lives in Sydney, Australia.

You can find out more about her by following her online.

Twitter | Facebook

Tour Stops

6/13/2016        The Novel Approach

6/14/2016        Love Bytes Reviews

6/15/2016        Sinfully

6/16/2016        BFD Book Blog

6/17/2016        Prism Book Alliance

Giveaway

Two lucky winners will win one eBook copy of any Will & Patrick episode.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

 

Jun 10

Book Blitz: Lace Lovers by LJ Hamlin (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Lace Lovers Banner

Title:  Lace Lovers

Author: L.J. Hamlin

Publisher:  Torquere Press

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Date: 6/16/16

Heat Level: 3

Pairing: M/M (With F/F Secondary Characters)

Length: 36K

Genre/Tags: Contemporary, M/M Romance, Erotic Romance

Synopsis

Brenton is a famous rock start. He’s also bisexual and closeted, despite the band’s very open nature. When Zeke comes to work for them, Brenton can’t help but be tempted by him. However, he has far bigger problems when he finds a picture that’s been shoved under his door. The band has dealt with stalkers before, but this time Brenton seems to be the focus.

Zeke has a hidden life that’s also captured the stalker’s interest. Can Brenton put his baggage aside to win over Zeke and survive the stalker who wants to do them harm?

Excerpt

“Not that he told his parents. He came out a few years ago, but he doesn’t seem to have an issue with his sexuality. That was another reason why Chris and I thought him being around the band could be a good idea. Everyone’s either gay, bi, or totally accepting of gay people. I think it’ll be a good environment for him,” Jamie says, and Brenton’s careful not to react. He can’t lie to himself that he hadn’t wondered this evening if Zeke were gay, but he doesn’t know how it makes him feel.

Because what does it mean? It means, if Brenton wasn’t an emotionally retarded closet case, he could date Zeke. But dating a man, that would mean telling everyone he likes men. First, the band would know, then the media, and inevitably his family would know, and they would never talk to him again and despite their faults, Brenton loves them.

“Don’t you want Jed to watch out for him? They have more in common, both being gay,” Brenton says, feeling like a fraud.

“Jed is my best friend, but he’s so confident, so outgoing. He was never the shy kid in class. I think you and Zeke would have more in common. And I trust you to be a good influence. God knows I love Drew too, but I don’t want him telling Zeke to party all the time and bed-hop from partner to partner. You’re a little more sensible,” Jamie says reasonably.

Brenton is kind of touched. Jamie trusts him to look out for her family, to help a guy who might have some troubles, has already admitted he’s not confident, and he knows this job is supposed to help with that.

“I’ll be extra nice to him,” Brenton promises.

“I know it’s asking a lot, but just do a few things with him. Get him to do errands with you. I’m not saying you have to be his best friend. I just, I like him, and his mom is worried. They’re family, in a different way than you guys are family. I was hoping that maybe one side of my family could help the other.” Jamie sighs.

“I’ll spend some time with him. I’ll try and help him out of his shell a little,” Brenton promises, hoping he won’t regret it.

“Thank you.” Jamie smiles, and Brenton wants to help her out. She’s done enough for the band over the years.

Brenton joins the rest of the band to say good night and gets driven to his apartment. When he opens the door, there’s an envelope on the floor in front of him, a large square that has been slipped under his door.

He picks it up, closing the door behind him. He assumes it’s from someone else in the apartment building, but Brenton gets a shock when he opens up the envelope. It’s a picture, just one picture, of Brenton sleeping in his bed, in this apartment.

Brenton flips the image over to see if it says anything, and it does.

Watching you…

Putting down the picture and envelope on the small table by his door, Brenton sets his security system. He’s always had one because of overeager fans, but he got a better one when Jed was being stalked.

Stalked… Is he being stalked? It’s one picture, one very creepy picture. Brenton doesn’t know what to do.

Purchase

Torquere Press

Lace Lovers Square

Meet the Author

L.J. Hamlin is a twenty-something (getting older every day) author, who has been writing all her life, mainly in notebooks no one else ever saw. Then she discovered M/M groups online and was encouraged by friends to share her stories. After a while (and with a lot of pushing) she grew brave enough to attempt getting published. Now she shares her stories with others and hopes never to stop. L.J. loves cats and pretty much all animals, is a collector of many things, often weird, but most of all books.

Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads | Pinterest

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy or a signed paperback copy of Lace Lovers.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Jun 09

Book Blitz: Orion’s Way by DC Juris (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Orion's Way Banner

Title:  Orion’s Way

Author: DC Juris

Publisher:  Torquere Press

Cover Artist: Kristin Norris

Release Date: 6/15/16

Heat Level: 5

Pairing: M/M

Length: 10,000

Genre/Tags: BDSM, Paranormal, Vampires, Romance, Erotic-Romance, M/M Romance

Add to Goodreads

Orion's Way Cover Art

Synopsis

Orion is a vampire with a tragic past. After running away from abusive parents at the tender age of sixteen, he was turned by a ruthless elder vampire and forced to torture and sexually abuse human feeders and submissive vampires. Though that’s all behind him now, he still lives in the shadow of what he was, and it’s cost him the loyalty of Xavier, the human feeder he loves. Malagan is Orion’s closest friend–the vampire who saved him from brutality all those years ago. Malagan knows the dominant side of Orion–the side Xavier needs–is still there, lurking below the surface. But if Orion’s going to find his way back to who he ought to be, he’ll need help. And Malagan is just the man for the job.

Previously published by Breathless Press.

Excerpt

Freak. The word went straight to Orion’s guts and set a shiver of hatred running up his spine. He pushed his shoulders back and stood taller, towering over Clay, but to no effect. Clay didn’t back down, didn’t turn away, didn’t show one single sign of submitting.

Clay laughed and snapped his fingers in Orion’s face. “Look at you. Size of a fucking giant, but the balls of a three year old. You’ve got no spine, Orion. You’re nothing but a simpering weakling who hides behind Malagan.” He turned away and moved to the bar.

“Don’t turn your back on me,” Orion warned, tempting fate.

“Why not?” Clay called over his shoulder. “What are you going to do about it? You going to beat me senseless and take what you want? That’s what you were good at, wasn’t it? Why don’t you come over here and try it, freak? That’s right, come on over here. I won’t even turn around. I’ll let you have the first hit. That’s all you need. Just that first hit to get you going. And then you’ll bloody me up, right?”

“I’ll do what I must to get Xavier away from you.” Orion took a deep breath and stood his ground, unmoving. He wasn’t about to back away, but he wouldn’t do anything rash either.

Clay rounded on Orion and smirked. “You don’t have the guts.”

The door opened behind them, and Orion turned to see Malagan standing in the opening. Elation and anger warred within him. He wanted to smile and gloat to Clay that now things would go his way, but another part of him hated Malagan for showing up, for stealing his thunder. For proving Clay right.

“He may not,” Malagan murmured. “But I do.” He swiveled his head to look at Orion, sent a knowing, compassionate look Orion’s way. “Xavier and I will meet you back at the lair.”

Heart pounding, Orion swallowed his pride and nodded. He left Clay’s house, the sounds of breaking glass and Clay’s yelling echoing down the path. He stopped at his car and turned back toward the house. This wasn’t Malagan’s fight — Malagan hadn’t started it, after all, and Malagan shouldn’t be the one finishing it. Orion took three steps up the path and froze as his guts knotted up and a wave of nausea assaulted him. Gagging, he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and stumbled back, colliding with the front of the car.

Frustration tore at him. Self-loathing and worthlessness wrapped their claws around him and pulled him under. Orion whirled and brought both fists crashing down onto the hood of his car. Again and again, until he’d left a bloody dent. Exhausted, lightheaded, he straightened and choked on a throat full of tears as he ran his fingers over the ruined hood. Why did he break everything he touched?

Purchase

Torquere Press

Orion's Way SquareMeet the Author

Romance author, sci-fi fan club Captain, cosplayer, reigning Queen of Monkeyland, and random menace. Yep, we’re talking about DC Juris. She’s a cupcake-making, football-watching, rubber-duck-collecting, drag-show loving, full-of-fabulous-with-a-capital-F kinda gal. She’s also an ordained minister and an amateur photographer. She lives in Upstate New York with her husband, three dogs, and three cats. When she’s not writing, you can find her in her favorite chair watching Star Trek and Supernatural repeats on Netflix, or surfing the web for porn. Er…research. Surfing the web for research. She may speak softly but she lives and loves loudly. Just ask the neighbors. ::wink::

 

https://www.facebook.com/danielchristianjuris

www.twitter.com/dcjuris

@dcjuris on Instagram and Periscope

http://dcjuris.blogspot.com

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy or a signed paperback copy of Orion’s Way.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Jun 07

Guest Post & Giveaway: Breathing Betrayal by Bellora Quinn & Sadie Rose Birmingham

Breathing Betrayal BannerTitle:  Breathing Betrayal

Author: Bellora Quinn and Sadie Rose Bermingham

Series Title and Number: Elemental Evidence, Book One

Publisher:  Pride Publishing

Cover Artist: Emmy Ellis

Release Date:  June 7th,  2016

Heat Level: 3

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 96,902

Genre/Tags: Crime and Mystery, Erotic Romance, Paranormal

Add to Goodreads

breathing betrayal cover

Synopsis

Jake Chivis is the descendant of Fire Elementals with a gift for psychometry, the ability to see memories from touching objects. After a bad breakup and trouble at work, Jake gave up his career as a detective in Detroit and moved to England to join a research program studying Elemental gifts at University College London. It seemed like the perfect way to escape his past and start over, and this time he’s vowed not to fall into the trap of dating a coworker. At least that’s the plan, until he meets Doctor Ilmarinen Gale.

Mari Gale is blond, sexy, relentlessly academic and comfortable in his own skin in a way Jake envies. After a handful of embarrassing encounters, Jake is ready to resign himself to staying under the radar, but when a colleague’s brother goes missing, he and Mari must work together to find him. As they dig into the inexplicable disappearance, Jake is impressed with Mari’s competence and unique skills, and even more impressed by his ability to wrap Jake around his finger. Together the unlikely pair discover murder, betrayal, secrets and just how high Mari can fan Jake’s flames.

Excerpt

Rain pink-pink-pinked against the window pane and drip-drip-dripped into the pot that Jake had placed under the leak in the hallway. Murky gray morning light greeted him when he opened his eyes. Another drizzly day. He had thought that was just some persistent stereotype, a comic exaggeration—about how rainy it was in London—but so far, this month, it was turning out to be true.

Jake was steadily getting used to the weather. It really wasn’t all that different from his native Michigan. He had been told by his colleagues this was an unusually wet November and that when winter finally kicked off, it wouldn’t be as severe as he was accustomed to. That was something to be glad about, at least.

The weather was not the only thing he’d had to get used to after moving a little over three and a half thousand miles away from the only place he’d known. London was worlds away from Detroit. It was still alive for one thing, not a dying husk. It was cleaner too, even with more than ten times the population. London had its crime and its dangerous places just like any large city, but even the urban degeneration here had a certain vibrancy to it that was unlike the desperation and decay of Detroit.

Enough of that.

Thinking about home was a guaranteed way to put him in a bad mood. At least he didn’t hate his new abode.

The apartment was small and leaky but it was clean and bug free and he didn’t have a lot of stuff anyway. Four rooms—kitchen, bathroom, small living room and a closet-sized bedroom that was barely big enough to hold a double bed and the armoire. The kitchen was equally tiny. A small fridge, sink and an ancient two-burner stove. There was just enough counter space to plug in his coffeepot. He was not complaining. The small space made it easy to keep warm and clean and discouraged clutter. It was also paid for, which was another big plus.

He hadn’t liked that idea at first. He thought the university should just pay him outright and let him figure out how to deal with the rent and utilities, but he had to admit that having them take care of the bills took some of the worry off his mind. Unfortunately he still had plenty of other things to worry about.

No, he told himself firmly. He was not going to start off the day thinking about home and everything he’d deliberately left behind when he got on the plane. That was over.

Jake dragged himself out of bed and across the living room to the bathroom. After a quick slash, he washed his face, finger-combed his hair with wet hands then threw on some sweats and he was ready for his morning run. There would be time for a shower and food later. Back in Detroit, he would have started his day by driving to the track or the gym to work out before heading to the station house. Here he could walk or use public transportation to get just about anywhere he needed to go. At first the idea of not having a car, of not being able to just hop in and drive wherever he had to go, any time he wanted, had given him more of a panicky, trapped feeling than being an ocean away from everyone he knew and everything familiar. A car was the very first thing he’d asked about, after moving his meager belongings into the apartment. The research assistant who’d been assigned to ensuring he got settled in and had what he needed had told him to give it a week or two and, if he still wanted to purchase a car, the university would arrange it. At the time, Jake had thought there was no possible way he could survive for so long without a vehicle at his disposal, but by the end of his first week he had explored the Tube, the cabs and the buses, got himself an Oyster card and found he could get around remarkably well without having to fight through traffic behind the wheel. He hadn’t brought up the need for a car again.

There was a small park only one street over from where he lived, and several right around the university, but they were little more than decorative green space—compact garden squares hemmed in by the tall, dark façades of houses and office buildings—nice for a picnic maybe, but not big enough for a run. Fortunately Regent’s Park was fairly close to where he lived and the paths and trails there were perfect. The park was never truly empty but this early in the morning, especially on such a wet, gray day, only the dedicated were out. They all had little earbuds or headphones on and their eyes were fixed forward, everyone in their own private bubbles. No one stopped to say good morning. No one drew him to one side to ask if he could touch their grandmother’s wedding ring and tell them if she’d hidden cash somewhere in the attic. It was great. It was almost perfect, except for one thing.

There was one other person from the university that liked to run the same route he did and while Jake didn’t see him every morning, it happened often enough that he’d started looking for the guy while he ran. That annoyed him. Running was his time to clear his head. It was meditative. He could tune out and think of nothing. Or at least he could until he started paying more attention to the people he passed than he did the simple rhythm of putting one foot down in front of the other. Now during his morning runs, he was distracted by looking around to see if he’d catch sight of a particular slender figure whose long legs ate up the distance like the wind.

Jake told himself that he was only looking so that he could avoid him, and thereby avoid having to make polite conversation. It definitely wasn’t because of the way the ridiculously tight Lycra leggings he wore outlined every muscle in his lean thighs or the way his perfect ass looked so tasty in them. No, not at all.

Jake never had been very good at lying to himself. Even so, admiring that sexy little derrière from a distance was all he would do. He had learned his lesson about getting involved with coworkers. Anyway, it was unlikely he’d see him today, given the dismal weather. He could stop looking around and just concentrate on pushing himself.

* * * *

The park was usually Mari’s first call of a morning, though he sometimes gave his running a break when the weather was this grim. Today the rain was that fine, persistent drizzle that evaded umbrellas and invaded just about all items of clothing that weren’t a wetsuit. He was used to it, having spent almost the last three of his twenty-seven years here, at UCL, but after the sunshine of his previous job in Barcelona, it was still kind of a comedown to walk out of his front door on a morning like this.

Fortunately the park was just around one corner, and the university campus just around the other, one of the perks of living in town. Papi had wanted to pay for a place out in the countryside, arguing that it would be more peaceful, but his Mama would hear none of it. The London house had been her grandmother’s then her father’s. He had been renting it out for years while the family lived abroad but now it was finally useful, even if the reason behind its new purpose was a less than happy one. Plus, Mama argued successfully—because no one, not even Papi, would dare to fight with her right now—it was also a short cab ride to the hospital, not an ungodly trek through the suburbs every time she had treatment or saw her oncologist.

He pushed those thoughts away, determined not to dwell on what might be, knowing she would not thank him for it. She had not wanted him to come to London at all, but on that point he had dared to defy her and anyway, he’d already been offered and had accepted the post at University College London. It was a decent job, even if London was not Barcelona.

There was no one quite like Tomas here, but maybe that was a good thing too.

Mari put his head down and pushed on into the clinging miasma of the chill London rain. Tomas Arregui was something else he would rather not think about right now. With the clarity of hindsight, perhaps it had been for the best that the job had come up with UCL when it did. Given longer to chew over the frustration of his on-again, off-again lover, he might well have been driven to do something he would most certainly regret.

Damn it, though! The memory of Tomas was like a persistent tic that wouldn’t let go of his hide once its nasty little fangs had sunk in.

He was glad of the distraction presented in the form of another early-morning loper and his spirits perked up even more when he was able to make out the familiar form and easy gait of the new guy who was working with the Web Security Team. Mari had spotted him striding through the park before, though they had never spoken. Lester in the print room said he was American, though Mari thought there was a slightly Hispanic look to his rough-cut, thick black hair and darkly handsome features. Maybe Romani, even? He couldn’t be sure.

He was well built without looking chunky, except when he was bundled up in several layers of damp running gear, and almost as tall as Mari’s six-foot-two-inch frame, which was a plus. It got embarrassing trying to flirt with men who were forced to look up at him all the time.

Not that he had any idea if Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome was even that way inclined. But that never stopped him testing the waters. Alicia in his department said that one day some guy was going to punch his lights out for flirting the way he did, as if every man in the world was automatically gay and, by definition, hot for him.

He’d made her laugh with his mock-horrified response. “You mean they aren’t?”

Breathing Squared

Purchase

Pride Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Meet the Authors

Bellora Quinn: Originally hailing from Detroit Michigan, Bellora now resides on the sunny Gulf Coast of Florida where a herd of Dachshunds keeps her entertained. She got her start in writing at the dawn of the internet when she discovered PbEMs (Play by email) and found a passion for collaborative writing and steamy hot erotica. Soap Opera like blogs soon followed and eventually full novels. The majority of her stories are in the M/M genre with urban fantasy or paranormal settings and many with a strong BDSM flavour.

Facebook | Twitter

Sadie Rose Bermingham: A storyteller since before she started school, Sadie also enjoys reading, photography, live music and long walks on the beach. Sadie has worked as a bookseller, a pedigree editor for the racing industry and a local and family history researcher. Originally from the north of England, she has been working her way across the UK ever since. She currently resides on the south east coast with her long term partner, where she hopes to buy a mobile home and establish a whippet farm.

Facebook | Twitter

Tour Stops

6/7       The Novel Approach

6/7       Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

6/8       Diverse Reader

6/8       MM Good Book Reviews

6/8       Attention is Arbitrary

6/9       Prism Book Alliance

6/9       Boy Meets Boy Reviews

6/9       Sinfully

6/10     Love Bytes Reviews

6/10     Joyfully Jay

6/10     Inked Rainbow Reads

6/11     Molly Lolly

6/11     Bayou Book Junkie

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy of Breathing Betrayal

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Jun 03

Blog Tour: Unbidden Dragon by Louisa Kelley

Unbidden Dragon Blurb Banner
Title:  Unbidden Dragon

Author: Louisa Kelley

Publisher:  Loose-Id LLC

Cover Artist: Syneca Featherstone

Release Date:  May 24 2016

Heat Level: 3- 4

Pairing: F/F

Length: approximately 50,000 words

Genre/Tags: Paranormal Romance, Lesbian Fantasy Romance, Urban Fantasy

Add to Goodreads

8ed8eaba-794e-4197-a724-926bfff16037

Synopsis

Two Dragons:

Maeven is on a mission. One big and bold enough for her coming-of-age quest called the Fieri, and important enough to gain her a trip off Dracan, the secret, hidden sanctuary of the dragon shape-shifters.

Success in her once-in-a-lifetime challenge means everything – respect, honor, and the bestowal of her full magical powers. Not to mention doing something vital for the survival of her species.

She’s given strict rules of behavior while living in earth society. Rule number one: keep her true nature hidden. Rule number two: no emotional involvement with humans, despite the age-old, near irresistible attraction between the two races.
Then Maeven meets plucky, devious, adorable Frankie living in Portland, Oregon. Who, as it turns out, accidentally, shockingly, shape-shifted – the night before. Ah. So much for the rules.

Frankie is frustrated with her oddly larcenous life not going anywhere in particular. One fateful weekend, she camps alone in the mountains to gain fresh perspective – with a little help from a baggie of something special. That afternoon, in a crazed, furious confrontation with hunters, Frankie shape-shifts into a dragon. And discovers a race of magical beings who insist she’s one of them, too. Especially the shining, gorgeous, red-head – who promises to teach her so much.

Excerpt

Maeven shut the door, turned, and regarded her. A clench of something tightened Frankie’s stomach. Maeven exuded a dangerous sensuality that both promised and threatened, fueling Frankie’s sense that Maeven carried the greater danger.

She eyed the door. How fast would she have to move, to keep Maeven from catching her? And where were these thoughts coming from?

“Would you like more tea?”

Frankie glanced down at her empty mug. “No, thanks.” The silence lengthened, and she concentrated on the sounds of the wood hissing and burning and tried to avoid Maeven’s questioning face. And not stare at her lush lower lip and slashes of dark eyebrows arching over green eyes.

Oh hell.

Maeven sat next to her and gave her hand an unexpected squeeze where Frankie clenched it on the table. “What do you remember? Anything?”

Her fingers twitched, enclosed in the surprising heat of Maeven’s skin. Warmth sank into her cold hand, yet after a few seconds, she slid her hand away. Too soon to trust. Even if the woman looked like the goddess Athena. With red hair.

The sense that she needed to get out, to run, flee danger, continued to prickle. She eyed the door again. Ingrained habits of distrust, learned from painful lessons of betrayal, rose to nearly choke her. She shook her head in an effort to dispel her foggy, post-high state.

 

“I’m not sure,” Frankie said. “Only flashes here and there.” She swallowed against the sudden taste of bile in her throat, and a wave of nausea hit her, potent reminders of the drug use from yesterday. The baggie of mushrooms she’d been warned not to consume all at once. Which she did, of course. Why, why did she continue to make such stupid choices?

The lingering effects of her trip probably contributed to how weird she felt. Or not. Arghh. Why was she such an idiot? Her decision-making abilities were coming undone.

She really did need to get out of here, get home, and recover her senses. How to manage that seemed impossible. She dropped her head into the flat of her arms crossed on the table. “I am so fucked.”

“I’m sorry.” Maeven’s voice floated somewhere above her, faint, like an angel’s. “I know this must be confusing.”

Frankie jerked at the touch of Maeven’s hand on her shoulder and shot to her feet. Her head wouldn’t clear. Maeven seemed both angel and devil in the space of seconds. The sense of wanting to go sharpened. She couldn’t shake the feeling they didn’t want her to leave, for reasons they weren’t admitting. Maeven watched her so closely she seemed to see everything, know what Frankie wasn’t saying.

Paranoia filled her. She didn’t care if she slept in the woods overnight. She wanted out. Space. These people scared her, and she pushed away the fact that they also aroused her as unimportant to the plan of action.

“Yeah,” Frankie said, hating the tremble in her voice. “I feel pretty weird. I’m just not quite…sure what happened, but thanks so much for the clothes and tea and stuff.”

“Of course, it’s the least we can do,” Maeven said. She leaned back and ran her fingers through her hair in a nervous gesture. Frankie watched, fascinated despite herself. The light caught and shimmered on the various shades in Maeven’s hair. A strand along her cheek shone like a rose in the soft cabin light.

Stop that, Frankie chastised herself. No distractions. Her decision solidified. Go, at the first opportunity. Run, hide… She fought her anxiety. Where would she go? And in the dark?

No matter. Her jaw clenched. She’d been a champion long-distance runner in high school, and she’d stayed in shape. But could she outrun the totally buff goddess?

 

 

SHADOWS CLIMBED THE rough wood walls of the cabin. The flickering candles cast a soft glow as day faded into evening, bathing the room in golden tones. Maeven looked down and realized her blue aura was mingling with the candlelight. She quickly doused the shine. Pesky shape-shifter light. Hardest thing to hide from humans. And impossible to explain. She flashed a look at Frankie, hoping to see more blue light, but Frankie’s pale face seemed even more taut and white.

Frankie avoided her eyes and radiated a palpable sense of unease. Made it hard to breathe, hard to keep a clear head, on multiple levels. Her predator’s instincts salivated; the hunting instinct activated with the enticement of Frankie’s anxiety. Maeven struggled not to react.

Frankie cleared her throat. “Okay if I use the bathroom?”

“Sure, of course. Through that door by the bed.” Maeven pointed in the direction of the bath, then tapped her fingers on the table while she waited. Fieri. Yes. The path coursed in her blood; a sense of rightness sent adrenaline racing through her body. Finally. Her doubts fell away. The course was set, even if she was full of unanswered questions. Taranis and Alwen had not forgotten her. How could she forget them? Listen, listen, listen…

Good. Yes! her sister-self cried, tuned as always to the nuances of Maeven’s thoughts. Want her. Go. Now!

Her sister meant fly with Frankie. The thought caused her heart to pound. “Fly?” she asked inwardly. “So I’m right?”

No coincidences. The Draca believed life unfolded according to the plans of Taranis and Alwen, gods of Draca, the divine beings who loved their shape-shifting children above all else. Her Fieri continued as planned, shaped by the ones who ruled her magical world. Trust. Did she?

Her sister-self beat an excited rhythm in her head. “Kisskiss,” she said. The sly other half of her never missed a twinge of lust. She gave her sister a mental kick.

“Stop it.” No lusting after the potential main objective. Frankie had found her way here despite layers of magical protections. Therefore, Frankie must possess Draca blood. It was the logical conclusion.

 

Maeven glanced at the closed bathroom door. It had been at least ten minutes. No sounds of water running or toilet flushing. Uneasy, Maeven stood up. “Frankie? You doing okay in there?”

No answer.

“Frankie?” she said louder and knocked on the door. When silence continued, she turned the knob. Locked. She rattled it. “Frankie?” Maeven thrust her hip against the wood a few times with no result. “Oh, blast it to the ninth hell,” she muttered and, with a fierce grip, tore the handle off and, with easy Draca strength, crashed through the pine door.

The window swung wide open, curtains blowing in the cold breeze. “No!” She rushed over and stared into the surrounding yard. Even with the moon, it was so dark Frankie could easily be hiding close by. Why, why was she running?

Maeven raced through the house, her sister-self agitated with excitement. “Chase!” she cried. An irresistible challenge to a Draca.

“Find her,” she said. “Find Frankie.” Predator instincts kicked in; her eyesight changed and cleared; the ability to see in the dark took over. She sniffed the air and caught the scent.

“Fly?” Maeven’s shoulder blades ached where her sister-self strained at the constriction of flesh.

“No, not yet. Run. Fast!” Maeven’s command to her sister-self ignited her into action.

She took off, inhaling the earthy, delicious traces of Frankie’s scent as she raced to catch her. Through the darkened, dense forest of spruce and pine, she dodged fallen logs and trampled through bushes of thorny blackberries, ignoring a hundred spiky digs. In the distance the sounds of Frankie’s panicked breathing carried on an obliging breeze. Maeven ran like a deer, the moonlight guiding the way, with light feet that bounded over any obstacles, nothing slowing her pace. Frankie’s gasps grew closer.

“Frankie! Stop…please! I just want to talk to you.”

“I’m fine,” Frankie yelled. “Leave me alone. I’ll find my own way out!”

Maeven picked up her speed. There—less than ten feet in front of her. Frankie threw a frightened glance over her shoulder, and then her foot hit a stump and she went flying, arms splayed just as Maeven dived to tackle her.

They went down in an explosion of grunts and shrieks. With a nimble twist, Maeven landed on top, spread-eagled over Frankie. She pinned her wrists to the ground and held firm while Frankie bucked and kicked.

“Get the hell off me! What the— Umpff…” Her last words were muffled as Maeven cupped her hand over Frankie’s mouth.

“Frankie,” Maeven said, yanking back on her emotions like taming a tightrope snapping in the wind, “I only want to talk. Please. For God’s sakes, I’m trying to help you.” She lifted her weight up a little but stayed put, knees on either side of Frankie’s hips, and tried not to notice the riot of sensation caused by the soft, shapely body under hers. Her sister-self’s excited cries increased in volume until Maeven could hardly think.

Frankie glared at her and went still.

“Okay?” Maeven asked and raised her hand from Frankie’s mouth while keeping a grip on her wrists. Ignoring her sister-self keening “mineminemine” was impossible. They had chased, they had caught, and her sister demanded reward.

“Fine,” Frankie spit out. “Now get the fuck off.”

Yet Maeven didn’t move, and Frankie remained still and unresisting. Puffs of white breath circled in the growing cold, and she knew they had to get going. Frankie’s eyes gleamed in a shaft of moonlight with anger…and something else. As if caught in a dream spell, she hesitated, unable to take her eyes off Frankie’s lips.

Her Dracan instincts threatened lusty takeover, and Maeven whimpered with conflicted need. The moon had risen to full height in a black sky, and the forest was flooded with brilliant lunar light. Magic. The sanctuary overflowed with aroused shape-shifter sensuality.

Words didn’t have to be necessary for Maeven to find the answers she sought. There were other ways. No. Get up now. Really. She tried to make her muscles move, and nothing happened. Blast it!

She heard Frankie’s indrawn breath like an invitation. Coherent thought fled. She leaned down and pressed her lips to the outline of Frankie’s mouth. For a few seconds, Frankie’s lips softened, opened, and then a small, hard fist shot out and punched Maeven’s cheek. Shocked, she slid off, reeling, into the cold mud and leaves.

Purchase

Pride Publishing | Amazon US | All Romance eBooks

Meet the Authors

Romance and science fiction took firm hold of Louisa Kelley’s imagination at age nine, when she read the books Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott, and the Narnia series, by C.S. Lewis. She is convinced that the genre paranormal romance, which developed years later, came into existence purely for her benefit. After all, it’s what’s been in her heart all these years.

She resides in Portland, Oregon where, in a strangely perfect combination of rainy winters and urban skyline, her writing inspiration abounds. Meet the sexy world that’s been evolving in her fevered brain…She’d love you to join her in some over-the-top erotic adventures with the Draca; dragon shape-shifters of a very different kind.

Member of Romance Writers of America
Member of Rose City Romance Writers

Facebook | Website | Goodreads

 

Tour Stops
June 4 – Prism Book Alliance 
June 6 – Dawn’s Reading Nook
June 7 – Love Bytes Reviews
June 8 – Diverse Reader
June 13 – Augusta Hill
June 14 – Queer Sci-Fi

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win a $10 Amazon Giftcard.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Jun 02

Book Blitz: Love off the Radar by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly (Excerpt & Giveaway)

 

Euphoria Banner

Title:  Love Off the Radar Collection

Author: A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly

Publisher:  Torquere Press

Cover Artist:

Release Date:  6/8/16

Heat Level: 5

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 119K

Add to Goodreads

euphoria1400

Synopsis

Love off the Radar features fourteen tantalizing, otherworldly tales of love, romance, passion, and mystery, by the best-selling team of A.J. Llewellyn and D.J. Manly. In Chaos, a fallen god looks for love at a truck stop. A young man hovers between love and death in Hardsex. Before Morning is an erotic, romantic, volcanic vampire tale set in Feudal Japan – with a serious twist. Mojo Rising is a scandalous tale of same-sex love set in the South Seas.

D.J. Manly addresses BDSM in Disciplining Baron, and the two authors join forces for the paranormal title story Love off the Radar. Which will kill Mo Dingley first? Love, or a curse? Speaking of curses, Have you ever read the personal journals of a werewolf, or a vampire? Now’s your chance! We’ve also got two very different love stories set in the time of Atlantis, and the sad but sweet Clean Monday, a coming-out story with a surprising hero. There are sexy, spicy tales involving zombies, where boys meet boys and almost…eat them. We have it all because love is love, and can’t always be wrapped up in a neat little bow.

Excerpt

From the title story Love off the Radar:

Mo should have suspected the universe was about to hose him when he arrived at the office and found the receptionist sniveling over her laptop. He’d assumed she was having some personal crisis. He felt a little guilty now that he’d uttered a brusque “Good morning” and had walked right by her.

When Jonathan Sampson personally buzzed Mo and invited him into the conference room for coffee, he’d assumed—again, stupidly—that he was about to be given a raise. He’d played the imaginary conversation in his mind as he quickly combed his thick, sandy-colored hair, straightened his bolo tie, and had run his fingertips over his unruly eyebrows.

He’d walked in, full of smiles, hoping to be commended for the brilliant job he’d done designing and overseeing a synagogue completely built out of recycled materials and powered by solar energy. It had appeared on the evening news, and Architectural Digest was featuring it next month.

Mo suspected that the big-bucks job hadn’t impressed Buckley and Sampson because the synagogue was a GLBT one. And gay didn’t go down too well in the company, even though their lone gay architect had, in three short months, brought them almost four million dollars in revenue.

No. What he got was a year in fingle-fangled Japan. It beat his last job where he’d spent a year in Kentucky designing the same ergonomic office spaces over and over again.

Mo stared into his still full cup of coffee, prepared for him by the sniveling receptionist. He wondered if she’d wept into his cup.

“Well?” Sampson asked.

“May I think it over tonight?”

Mr. Sampson looked disappointed. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours. You’ll need to leave by Monday.”

Mo swallowed. Hard. “What about the accounts I’m working on?”

Mr. Sampson couldn’t look at him. “We’re going to hand them over to some of our junior executives.”

“But those are my accounts. My relationships brought in those deals.” Asshole. I just figured it out. They used me to get the contracts, now their straight account executives are going to complete the projects. They’ll never do the job I could do.

He left the office for the meeting he’d scheduled with the rabbi. He adjusted his black Stetson on his head, straightened his bolo tie and used a bristle brush to clean his black suit. Not that he needed it.

It was always good to make sure though. Sometimes when he morphed back into human form, he forgot himself and wolf hairs stuck to him.

Damned curse.

He stared down at his black cowboy boots. He’d come to California with three pair and these were his favorite, lucky boots. Well, they weren’t so lucky this morning.

Mo drove to West Hollywood in a daze, trying to imagine not being here anymore. He was surprised when he hit the turnoff on the ten for La Cienega Boulevard and headed south. On Pico, he found street parking and almost didn’t pay for the meter. Just out of spite. But it would be just his luck if a parking ticket haunted him across the Pacific.

He slid his credit card into the meter, paid for two hours, not that he thought he’d need it, then stood back to survey his golden beauty. From the outside, the synagogue looked very utilitarian. Inside, it was cozy, temperate, and gorgeous. As he strode into the building, he admired once again the carpet that had been fashioned by his ex-lover, Andrew, out of recycled jeans.

Each and every item used in the construction of the Temple Ruth Center had been a labor of love for Mo, and the artisans he’d brought in to help him with the project. Though not Jewish, he admired the rabbi, Beth Cohen, and the synagogue’s motto of ikkun olan (repair the world).

He believed in beautiful spaces. He believed in being responsible and being accountable. Even as he shook the rabbi’s hand and greeted the reporter from Architectural Digest, he knew his time in LA was short. He could sniff it out, like a coming Santa Ana wind and knew.

Mo Dingley was going to Japan.

He slept badly, falling into a restless snooze on the sofa whilst watching a design program on HGTV. He awoke to canned laughter and raised his head from the cushions tucked under his arm. Somehow he’d rolled over onto the remote and he’d hit an obscure cable station. An old episode of Seinfeld was playing. He’d never seen this one before, but in it, Kramer was renting out drawers in his bedroom bureau to stranded Japanese tourists. He watched as Kramer tucked them into their makeshift beds, wishing them a good night’s sleep.

I can’t sleep in a drawer! Are beds really that small there?

He hit the Internet and checked the address that Sampson had written down for him. He was astonished at how wonderful it seemed. The apartment, located in the neighborhood of Akasaka (Red Hill in English) in the Minato-ku district, was right near his new office, and two blocks from the American Embassy. According to the blogs he read, foreigners gravitated toward this area because of its international supermarkets. Almost everybody spoke English. During the day, it was a hard-working business area. At night, its restaurant and clubs ensured a busy evening, as well. Weekends, according to his research were much quieter, because the working men went to their own neighborhoods.

The ancient streets featured some geisha houses, which tickled him. He wondered if there were gay ones. How far was it from the gay district? And what was it called, anyway? He checked. Shinjuku Ni-ch?me. Popularly known as Nich?. Now that looked really cool. Saunas, coffee shops, bars. Beautiful men.

As long as he could escape into solitude each full moon, he’d be fine.

I think I could live there. He studied the apartment building. The Akasaka Tower building was so tall it made him dizzy looking at him.

This ain’t no mustang ranch, sport. He took a deep breath. He was able to view an apartment via virtual tour. It looked very modern and clean, with granite countertops in the kitchen and surprisingly huge windows overlooking the city.  The bedroom looked  big enough. It sure beat the heck out of being unemployed.

He eyed the time on his VCR/DVD player. Ten fifteen P.M.

On the TV, as Jerry and Elaine acted shocked about Kramer renting the Japanese tourists his bedroom drawers, Kramer defended himself by saying, “Have you ever seen the business hotels in Tokyo? They sleep in tiny stacked cubicles all the time! They feel right at home!”

He sighed at the racist overtones to the plotline. Maybe this was his opportunity to offer his input into ikkun olan. Maybe he could help in some way make a contribution to repairing the world.

Mo picked up the phone and called Jonathan Sampson. He wasn’t surprised when the man answered.

“I’m in,” was all Mo said. And then he started to pack.

Purchase

Torquere Press

Euphoria SquareMeet the Author

 

A.J. Llewellyn

A.J. Llewellyn’s obsession with myth, magic, love, and romance might have led to serious stalking charges had it not been for the ability to write. Thanks to the existence of some very patient publishers, A.J.’s days are spent writing, reading and dreaming up new worlds. A.J. has definitely stopped Google-searching former boyfriends and given up all ambition to taste test every cupcake in the universe to produce over 200 published gay erotic romance novels.

A.J. wants you to read them all. A.J. can be found lurking on Facebook and Twitter—part-time class clown being another occupation. When not writing or reading, A.J.’s other passions include juggling, kite-boarding, and spending a fortune buying upgrade apps for Pearl’s Peril and Farm Heroes Saga.

D.J. Manly

I write not only for my own pleasure, but for the pleasure of my readers. I can’t remember a time in my life when I haven’t written and told stories. When I’m not writing, I’m dreaming about writing. Eroticism between consenting adults, in all its many forms is the icing on the cake of life but one does not live by sex alone. The story of how two people find love in spite of the odds is what really turns me on.

 

Social Media Links:

Amazon Author Page:

www.amazon.com/A.J.-Llewellyn/e/B002DBJBC2

Facebook:

www.facebook.com/aj.llewellyn

www.facebook.com/dante.manly

Pinterest:

www.pinterest.com/ajllewellyn

Twitter:

www.twitter.com/ajllewellyn

www.twitter.com/djnovels

Website:

www.ajllewellyn.com

www.djmanlyfiction.com

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy or a signed paperback copy of Love off the Radar.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Load more