RELEASE BLITZ: “Taste: London Love – Book 2” by Sophia Soames

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: TASTE
(London Love #2)

Author: Sophia
Soames

Publisher:
Self-Published

Cover Artist: Christina
Stern

Release Date: November 1,
2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M
Romance

Trope: Enemies to
lovers

Theme: Hotel, London,
Hurt/Comfort

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 91 000
words

It is a standalone story and
the second book in the London Love series.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle
Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

There is a fine line
between love and hate.

Blurb

“Emotional, funny, gripping, and heart-wrenching, Sophia
Soames’ books pulled me in and stuck with me well after. Highly recommend.” —Jennifer
Cody, author of the Diviner’s Game and Shattered Pawns universe.


Finn Christensen doesn’t do feelings. He doesn’t do
relationships either and when he has an itch to scratch, there are always clubs and
hook-ups. He works every hour of the day as the Front Office manager for the Clouds
Westminster Hotel in central London. He’s respected in the industry, and as senior
management, deserves the reputation and fear his name carries.

Then award-winning restauranteur Mark Quinton
swans in like he owns the bloody place, and Finn’s carefully managed world starts to fall
apart.


Mark Quinton needs. He’s impulsive and stupid and
childish and probably the last person in the world who should be allowed to run the Food
and Beverage department at the Clouds Westminster Hotel, however many brilliant ideas he
has and seems to manage to miraculously pull off. He needs. And he needs Finn
Christensen.


It’s a match made in hell. A recipe for disaster.
There will be a bloodbath one day. They all know. Everyone knows.


TASTE is the second book in the London Love
series, following four extraordinary ordinary couples living real fairy-tales in the city of
London. TASTE is a hurt/comfort, enemy-to-lovers romance set behind the scenes in a busy
inner-city business hotel.


Trigger-warnings for off-page mentions of
domestic violence, kleptomania, depression, ADHD and culinary crimes involving cheese.
HEA.

Excerpt

Finn Christensen, though, was just that. Textbook dull and
insanely boring. The man only owned slick, grey suits, wore the same black tie every
goddamn day and needed to learn how to grow a beard. Despite being well into his forties,
he had a babyface and a crown of almost angelic blonde curls on the top of his head. He
must have mislaid his halo at some point because there was nothing angelic about

him.

He never spoke to me, apart from random snide remarks
and the trademark eye-rolls he seemed to have honed on me. His thick curls were always a
mess of natural perfection, his lips always pursed in a tight scowl, and there were definitely
firm muscles showing through the fitted shirts that were his preferred attire. I’d caught him
staring at me a few times during these meetings, just a glance, and then he would take a
swig of his water bottle and look away. I knew he disliked me. Fuck that—he bloody hated
me for some reason I didn’t fully understand.

The problem was, I couldn’t really peg him down, however
much I wanted to. He was way above my league professionally, having worked himself up
from the ground, gaining experience on the back of some posh hotel management degree.
His office displayed an impressive wall full of hospitality diplomas from well-known
establishments, and he always looked immaculate, in his bloody posh suit-and-tie combos,
while I was happy to slum it in one of my favourite floral shirts and black jeans. I’d heard
whispers he’d wanted the F&B gig, but I didn’t believe that. He was the front-of-house
manager, which held a lot more clout in the management world than the dude who fiddled
around with room service yields and made sure the breakfast service made a profit.

And still he hated me.

I knew he was gay. Everyone did, like they knew I was an
equal opportunities kind of guy, swinging freely from having a hot girlfriend to being the
man-whore of the moment when I felt that need. We didn’t hold back with those personal
need-to-knows in the Clouds hotel world, so we knew most things about everyone in the
company. I didn’t even have to fill people in or ask for the low-down because my wait staff
were the biggest gossipmongers in the world and happily kept tabs on all the current drama,
telling me before things got out of hand, which they did, on a daily basis. Not only did my
happily bed-hopping staff shag like rabbits and fall in and out of favour at the drop of a hat,
but I had to reluctantly admit to having caused some of that drama myself. My last bed
partner had been a woman, but that little affair had conveniently come with no strings
attached, like my thrusts usually did.

Hence there I was, staring back at him across the table,
noting how his hair was, as always, on the edge of needing a trim. How his angular face lit
up in a rare smile at a particularly complimentary comment. The squareness of his shoulders
in that well-cut suit. The pout of those lips just made for, well. Ahem. Activities between the
sheets, preferably of the kind where he was on his knees with my cock in his mouth. That
thought had already been well and truly entertained and had made me ejaculate into my
own hands more nights than not these days.

I couldn’t quite pinpoint the time when I’d realised I
fancied him. Perhaps even a small part of me wanted him. Yet I could feel the hairs on the
back of my neck stand up whenever he was in the room. His voice grated on my nerves to
the point where my teeth would grit, and his pompous PowerPoint presentations in these
weekly meetings made me sigh a little too loudly.

Which made him stare at me with murder in his eyes. Yup,
the feeling was mutual.

Instead of displaying my own totally professional
PowerPoint presentation, I found myself standing up and throwing numbers off the top of
my head because I was a cocky twat. And all the while, the almighty Mr Christensen sat
scowling with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Christensen, don’t you agree?” I smiled at him. He didn’t
smile back. “Was my prediction for the new lunch menu not right on track? You were the
one who disagreed with the proposed changes. I’m pleased to see that, once again, I was
right.” I sprinkled the words lightly, maintaining my pleasant smile as I took in the room,
which was mostly amused stares. This showdown had become a weekly thing, and everyone
was eagerly awaiting what would most certainly be a brutal comeback.

Right on cue, Finn Christensen raised his hands in a
deliberately slow clap.

“Mr Quinton, congratulations on the one per cent profit
you added from last week. Less than one per cent. I am more impressed with the massaging
you must have done to come up with those figures, because according to Saffiya’s
more truthful calculations, looking at last week’s accounting breakdown, you
made a further 392-pound loss on the food side.”

Damn. Now Saffiya, our immaculate financial controller,
was nodding as well. So yes, we’d made a bit of a loss, but I’d cooked the numbers well, and
the reduced staffing figures and portion size reductions were more than covering those
numbers for next week.

“Those losses are already considered, and we look forward
to a profit-making food side next week with the introduction of our
Incredible Desserts
concept. The test customers were raving about them last week, and as always, we welcome
visits down to our kitchen to sample our wonderfully talented head chef’s new creations.
Ben and his team are truly an incredible asset to the chain.”

In another of his signature moves, he was on his feet
before I’d even finished the sentence, showing his displeasure by going to stand against the
back wall of the room. It made him look taller, angrier, more confident, as well he
knew.

“Come on, Quinton,” he droned. “You’re deluded, and we
all know it. Demand for in-house meals is high, but unless you want our customers to cross
the square and grab McDonald’s from the corner, you need to up your game. We’ve had
several complaints about the lack of comfort food on your menu, and Mr Proctor once again
demanded we comp his bill due to the lack of fish and chips. You know how important our
premium customers are, don’t you, Quinton?”

He banged his head back against the wall as he spoke,
clearly annoyed with my dumbass attitude and overbearing confidence. But that was the
way I rolled, and the fact that it seemed to annoy him just egged me on.

“No need to speak to me like I am a child.” I smiled
demurely. “But if you want me to break down the figures for you…” I paused deliberately.
“Then I can explain like I would my five-year-old niece’s maths homework. We made a profit
overall and scored 4.92 on customer satisfaction. Seventy-two per cent of last week’s guests
took one or more meals in our restaurant.”

“We offer free breakfast, mate,” he cut back. “Which
means twenty-eight per cent of our clients couldn’t face our breakfast. Not a particularly
good score.”

I hated him. I hated him so fucking much.

About the Author

Sophia Soames should be old
enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV
shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and
has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband
just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.

She lives in a creaky old
house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in
her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis
ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Find me on social media
@sophiasoames on all platforms

Christina Stern is a
Russian based artist. Quick sketches and portraits drawn in pencil are what she likes to do
the most. Her work can be found on @christinastern on Instagram

Aurelia Morris is a
cover artist, photographer, Photoshop wiz and eternal fangirl. She works in many mediums
under more aliases that she can keep track of.

Social Media Links

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BOOK BLAST: “Wicked Lovely: The Black Blade Chronicles, Book 1” by J.K. Hogan. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Wicked Lovely (The Black Blade Chronicles, Book
1)

Author: J.K.
Hogan

Publisher: Euphoria
Press

Cover Artist: J.K. Hogan @
www.wickedpixeldesigns.com

Release Date: October 12,
2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers

Themes: Adventure/quest (kind of Game of Thrones-esque but
queer)

Heat Rating: 4
flames

Length: 90 000
words

It is the first book in the
series and not a standalone story.
There will be an
HEA over a three-book arc. The first book isn’t quite a cliffhanger, more of a
to be continued ending.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle
Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

A new series that
combines the adventure and magic of epic fantasy with the enchantment of

romance

Blurb

Darkness grows in the realm of Taleth. To the west, a
power-hungry despot schemes to conquer kingdoms and territories alike by chasing an
ancient elven prophecy that could give him the power to rule all. In the east, after a prince’s
murder goes years unanswered, a princess learns there was much more to her brother’s
death—and to her life—than she realized.

The House of Kjenelach is shaken to its foundation when
Princess Sigrid is stolen away. Her faithful guardian, Sir Senne Clayward, reluctantly accepts
help from his nemesis, a notorious halfling mercenary of questionable morals—but
indispensable tracking skills—called Kasimir vas Hjardar.

Kasimir makes his living hunting monsters, both creatures
and men. While he exists outside the law, he lives by his own unassailable code of honor. At
the top of that list: never harm a child. When he turns down a contract to kidnap Sigrid and
later finds out she was taken by someone else, he offers his help to the prickly knight tasked
with protecting her.

Together, they embark upon a journey across the continent
to save Sigrid and foil King Prosper’s plans to conquer Taleth. The way is fraught with
dangers and pitfalls, from supernatural beasts to Senne’s deathly fear of magic, but they
must not fail, for Sigrid may very well be the savior of the realm: the long prophesied
Aisnellach Fuil. Somehow, the two men must set their differences aside and work together
to rescue Sigrid, and possibly find love along the way.

About the Author

J.K. Hogan has been telling
stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for
her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, she found her true
passion. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her
stories as she writes them.

J.K. resides in North Carolina
with her husband, two sons, and their pets. If she isn’t writing, J.K. can be found designing
book covers at Wicked Pixel Designs, creating fiber art and supplies at Earthbound Fiber Arts
watching Hurricanes Hockey and, of course, reading!

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter

Instagram | Amazon | Pinterest

Giveaway

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Giveaway for a chance to win

your choice of ebook from the author’s backlist

a
Rafflecopter giveaway

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Finishing Last” by Rob Browatzke.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Finishing Last

Author: Rob Browatzke

Publisher: Sisyphus Press

Cover Artist: Alexandria Corza

Release Date:
Halloween

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope. Friends to lovers

Themes: Found family

Heat Rating: 4
flames

Length: 70 000 words/ 245
pages

It is a standalone story within
a series

Goodreads – River City Romances Series

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Mitch Morris is a nice guy
– and you know what they say about them.

Blurb

Mitch Morris is starting over in a new apartment when he
meets a handsome new neighbor. Dan Murphy is starting over in a new city when he meets

a handsome new neighbor.

They DON’T hook up.

Instead, they become friends, and slowly, more than
friends. But when they both start dating other people, it’s increasingly obvious there’s
something between them. Nice guys don’t cheat though, and besides, who would risk a
friendship on the chance of something more?

Excerpt

“It doesn’t matter,” he told Dan. “We are not running
Sunday —and I don’t care how many times you say Kyle McFall,” he added, sticking his
fingers in his ears. “Sunday is Halloween, and that means we will both be far too hungover
from Saturday’s Halloween parties to even think about running.”

“We could just not get drunk, you know. That’s a thing.
That people do.”

“Not my people!” Mitch said. “Halloween Saturday is my
literal favorite day of the year.”

“That’s what you said about Gay Day,” Dan said. “And about
Pride. And about the day Duncan
had his
two-for-one special.”

“You know, I get that we’re friends, but sometimes, I really
wish you didn’t pay so much
attention to
everything I say. You’ve got this annoying habit of throwing my own words back in my face,
and it really is the most unattractive thing you do.”

Dan shrugged, grinning. “What’s so special about
Halloween?”

“What’s so special about Halloween? What’s so special
about Halloween?” Mitch forced his voice to screech.

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

“Oh, you little tiny gayby,” Mitch said. “What did they teach
you back in that backwater town of
yours?”

“Isn’t your hometown like five hundred people?”

“Yes,” Mitch said, “and every single one of them celebrates

Halloween. But that doesn’t even

matter, because you see, Halloween is something more for
gay people. It’s like Christmas and your birthday and the best blowjob ever all rolled into
one.”

“Do you ever worry that your constant exaggerating ever
builds things up to a point where people are let down?”

“Did I let you down about Pride?” Mitch asked. Dan shook
his head. “Or about that two for one special?” Dan let out a laugh. “See? I never steer you
wrong. Now, what are you being?”

“Like, for my costume? I have no idea.” “Daniel! It is only
two weeks away.”

“Do you already know what you’re doing?”

“Since July,” Mitch said. “I have to say, I’m outdoing even
myself this year.”

“What are you doing then?”

“No! A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“But, you just asked me!”

Mitch chuckled. “Oh, Dan,” he said. “Poor little gayby Dan.
You are many things but you’re not a
magician.”

It was a brave front that Mitch was putting on, because the
truth was, he had no idea what he
was going to be.
He and Kent had normally done a pair of costumes, which hit a brilliant new level a few
years before when they’d actually gone as a pair of pears. But this year, Kent and Dylan were
doing a couples costumes, because of course they were that kind of couple, and it was
probably going to be something super lame, like Romeo and Julien or some shit. But Mitch
was idealess.

He was never idealess on Halloween. He had suggested to
Ellis that they do a couples costume, which he normally hated; best friends together was
fine, but boyfriends matching was just gay, and not in the good buttsex sense of the word.
But Ellis was going as Black Panther.

“Why don’t you tell me what to go as?” Dan asked
suddenly. “Since you’re the expert and all.”

Intrigued, Mitch gave that a ponder. Sometimes it was

easier to dress someone else, and maybe that would give Mitch the inspiration he needed
for himself. It had to be different. Most of the people at The Torch were just going to be
slutty superheroes or slutty animals or slutty somethings, anything for an excuse to be out
for a night in as little clothing as possible. This wasn’t something Mitch minded, overly. In
fact, he looked forward to the beautiful men, but when it came to his own, he usually
wanted a bit of commentary. After all, there was a thousand dollar grand prize on the line,
and who couldn’t use that?

About the Author

Rob Browatzke doesn’t
believe in writing what he knows – that’s why he delivers gay romance with happy endings!
Equal parts sarcasm and kindness, he has been writing as long as he can remember. When
not writing, he can be found actively involved in local queer nightlife, where he has made a
career since the late 1900s. He lives in Edmonton Alberta, but don’t hold that against him.
Feel free to stalk him on social media.

Author Links

Website | Facebook | Twitter
@robbrowatzke
| Instagram @robbrowatzke

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BOOK BLAST: “Dancing Before the Crash” by C.C. Everhill. $20.00 Amazon Giftcard Giveaway Included!

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Dancing Before the Crash

Author: C.C.
Everill

Publisher: Self-published in
conjunction with Ronni Sanlo Literary (www.ronnisanlo.com)

Cover Artist: Barbara
Gottlieb (gottgraphix.com)

Release Date: April 25,
2021

Genre: Memoir

Trope: Friends and lovers

Themes: Gay life 1977-1989

Heat Rating: 4
flames

Length: 72 388 words/386
pages

It is a standalone book and
does not
end on a cliffhanger

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Imagine finding someone’s
diary – would you read it?

Blurb

In 1977, a 22-year-old man moved to NYC to pursue his
dream. His journal tells of his romances, friendships, clubbing while attempting to “make it”

in the big city. The author’s diary takes us from the early days of the 1970’s disco era
through the devastating AIDS epidemic. If you lived through this era or are interested in
LGBTQ+ history, this book offers insight from a survivor.

Excerpt

Sunday, April 26, 1981

It is now 3:30 a.m. and I’m not able sleep. I can’t stop thinking about last Sunday, which was
Easter, so I thought I would get up and write about it.

Jesse was changing into his bellmen’s uniform when I entered the locker room on Saturday
before work. He was in a chatty mood and said the rash had disappeared.

“I have an idea. How about if you come home with me tonight and then tomorrow, we can
spend Easter together?”

What a surprise! I accepted.

Easter was delightful. We walked the dogs to the Village and had brunch on The Patio. After
eating, we walked back to Jesse’s apartment and got high while drinking beer on the roof. It
was a warm sunny day and since we were both slightly sweating, we took showers before
leaving for work.

That was a week ago. Our first night of sleeping together since the night we partied at The
Saint. Tonight, while we were in line at the cafeteria, Gerald the server commented that he
constantly sees us together.

“That’s because we’re both the same age and from Colorado and worked together at
another job.” Jesse explained.

I wanted to add that we are compatible, sleep together now and then, and enjoy each
other’s company. Instead, I smiled. Don’t want to upset the apple cart.

After work, we smoked a few joints in Central Park and then walked to a nearby diner for a
bite to eat.

P.S. Earlier this week, Jesse invited me to accompany him to his parent’s house in May to
celebrate our birthdays.

“Oh, that sounds great, but I’m not sure about a trip to Colorado.”

“We’re not going to Colorado. They live in Connecticut, remember? We can rent a car.”

I forgot that his parents lived in Connecticut. We talk so much about being from Colorado.
As I recall, on the first night we met he told me his parents had moved.

Invitation accepted.

About the Author

C.C Everill was born in New
England. He earned a BA in Music and Theatre in the 1970’s. Before moving to NYC, he kept
a diary which was the foundation for “Dancing Before the Crash.” He is now a retired piano
teacher and resides in North America with his husband of 36 years and their three
cats.

Author Links

Twitter |
Instagram

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