NEW RELEASE: “Light from the Grave” by Sara Dobie Bauer.


Book Title: Light from
the Grave

Author: Sara Dobie

Publisher: Carnation Books

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: October 24,

Genres: Paranormal M/M romance

Tropes: witches, anti-hero, age gap

Themes: grief, mental health, redemption, family

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 94 000 words/374

It is a standalone book and
oes not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

I’m what nightmares are
made of, but I’m not sure who’s more dangerous: him or me.


In the world of witches, Keller Rex is a legendary
monster—a dark sorcerer with a gift for suffering. He has long been the protector of the
Zayne coven and their ancestral home in Charleston, South Carolina. When the family

matriarch, Vivian Zayne, dies under mysterious circumstances, he is tasked with finding the
only person who can open her sealed Book of Shadows: the son no one knew she

Dylan Quinn has never bothered to figure out why cats
follow him everywhere, but it’s been that way for as long as he can remember. After the
unexpected passing of his adoptive mother, he had to make a new home for himself in small-
town Ohio. Things have been quiet ever since, but lately, there are strange voices in his
dreams and a sense of being watched.

When a striking Southern gent appears in town, Dylan
welcomes the distraction. Keller is handsome and charming, but Dylan can tell there’s
something else, something eerie about him. And he discovers he’s right, as Keller goes from
being Dylan’s seducer… to his abductor.

Now back in Charleston, Dylan’s newfound family is
shocked when it’s discovered his magical affinity is for death itself. Despite his fears, he’ll
need to learn to control his terrifying powers in order to open the Zayne Book of Shadows.
He also needs to keep his coven safe, and time is running out. The estate’s protective wards
expire on Halloween, and power-hungry witches from all over are ready to pounce.

While Dylan’s awakening darkness threatens to overwhelm
him, Keller finds himself confronted by feelings he thought long dead. Keller will do anything
to protect his young necromancer and open Vivian’s Book of Shadows, but the Zaynes are in
for a surprise when Dylan resurrects someone he shouldn’t.


Dylan stood by his kitchen island drinking a glass of water
and froze at the sudden arrival in his home. Keller moved with inhuman speed. He appeared
right in front of Dylan, who gasped and dropped his glass, which shattered on the wooden
floor at their feet. Taking hold of Dylan’s shirt, Keller shoved the smaller man against the

“What are you?”

Dylan’s chin trembled. “What?”

Keller clenched his teeth. “What are you?”

“I-I don’t understand, but I’d really like you to leave

Keller let go of Dylan. He chuckled and paced halfway
across the small apartment and back. He was tired of playing games, tired of trying to work
his magic on someone who seemed impervious to his influence, so Keller chose truth. “Your
family is waiting,” he said. “Long story short: your biological mother is dead. She was a bitch
who won’t be missed, and there is no time to spare. Several lives depend on you, so we
need to go. Now.”

“What the fuck, man?” His words shook. “I don’t know who
you think I am, but my biological mother died giving birth to me. That’s why my adopted
mom agreed to give me her family name.”

“Zayne,” Keller said.

Dylan took a startled step back and again rammed right into
the fridge. “How do you know that?”

“Because your biological mother did not die giving birth to
you. She died a week ago.”


Keller snorted. “That’s up for debate.”

“I don’t—”

Keller held up a hand between them, a silent but visible
order for Dylan to listen. “Your biological mother’s name was Vivian Zayne, and she was a
very powerful witch. We, as her coven, didn’t know you existed until the reading of her will.
Imagine our surprise.”

Dylan’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You come from a family of witches.”

“Witches aren’t real.”

“Are you sure?”

Dylan didn’t look sure of anything. He looked like a
frightened child.

Keller leaned his elbows on the kitchen island. “How long
have cats been following you?”

“They’re just … cats,” Dylan said. “They follow

“They follow you. How long have they been following you?
Your whole life, I assume.”

Dylan glanced at the row of cats watching from his
bedroom doorway.

“We call them familiars.” Keller clicked his tongue and
stood. “Now, you may continue to have an internal crisis on the drive to Charleston. You’re
coming with me. You don’t have a choice.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” He reached for the
chain around his neck—a nervous tic Keller had noticed before—but his fingertips found

With that, Keller leaned his head back and roared with
laughter. He didn’t have much time to enjoy his dark amusement though, because even if
Dylan didn’t believe in witches, he did believe in that necklace.

When the boy charged for his bedroom, Keller sprung into
action. He wrapped his arms around Dylan’s upper body and held him captive against his
chest, but Dylan still struggled against him, struggled to reach the necklace Keller saw
hanging on the lamp by Dylan’s bed.

Keller spoke with his lips against Dylan’s ear. “All you had to
do was wear that necklace, and I couldn’t control you. What a day to forget to put it on,

In his arms, Dylan gave up fighting but did tremble with
silent tears.

“Shh,” Keller whispered. “I’ll only hurt you if you make

Dylan started shouting. He called out for help, but Keller
covered his mouth with his hand and subdued his screams. The dampness of Dylan’s warm
breath mixed with the saltwater of his tears against Keller’s palm.

Then, something strange happened. Keller found himself
thrown backwards. He landed with a thud against Dylan’s bedroom wall. Dylan was no
longer in his arms. Dylan was also no longer screaming. Keller, recovered from the invisible
attack, raised his head to find Dylan standing in front of him—Dylan, but not Dylan. His eyes
had gone black, just like they had in the coffee shop. Tiny black veins appeared around his
eyes and spread down his cheeks.

Keller stared in wonder while cats hissed from Dylan’s
windowpane but came no closer. “There you are, gorgeous,” Keller said.

About the Author

Bestselling romance

Bisexual witch.

Feminist. Pro-choice. Anti-

Timothee Chalamet

Horror movie

Vampire mermaid in a past

Sara Dobie Bauer somehow
survived her party-hard college years at Ohio University to earn a creative writing degree.
She lives with her precious Pit Bull in Northeast Ohio, although she’d really like to live in a
Tim Burton film.

Author Links

| Facebook | Private Facebook Group

| Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up


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NEW RELEASE: “Sold” by Ace Fawn


Book Title:

Author and Publisher: Ace

Cover Artist: Cormar

Release Date: October 25,

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Forced proximity, opposites attract

Themes: Captive romance, billionaire romance, sexual awakening, one-
sided hate

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 63 000 words

It is a standalone story and
oes not end on a cliffhanger.



Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Sold. Collared.




Michael Kreed is a wealthy man with the world in the palm
of his hand, and he’s looking for a new pet. What he craves comes in the form of Hunter, a
young man with a gorgeous, lean body, an attitude, and a determination not to yield.
Michael wants to keep Hunter unbroken, but is it worth pursuing a relationship with his new


Hunter’s life changes forever when he is sold at an auction
to a sophisticated, handsome billionaire named Michael. Collared and made into his pet,
Hunter resists his owner and craves to have his freedom and old life back. But is the new life
that Michael is offering him better than the only one he’s ever known?

Content Warnings: This book contains explicit
M/M sexual content and includes kidnapping, a human auction, involuntary collaring,
spanking, chipping, restraints, and the use of a Taser. Reader discretion is



Michael moved in closer, and Hunter shut his eyes. The only
two things he could focus on were Michael’s fresh cologne and the feel of the collar as
Michael put it on around his neck.

Hunter opened his eyes when he sensed that Michael had
moved away.

A small smile spread across Michael’s clean-shaven face as
he observed Hunter with his piercing blue eyes. “That’s better. I knew a collar would look
stunning on you.”

Hunter stared, horrified. Letting Michael put the collar
around his neck was an act of submission. And Hunter
hated it. He hated Michael for buying
him and forcing him into something he didn’t want to be a part of. It was clear to Hunter by
the way Michael had spoken to him that he was the type of man you didn’t say no to. The
type of man that got whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

That only fueled Hunter’s anger toward him.

But he was also confused. What did a man like Michael
want from him?

Questions ran rampant in Hunter’s mind. His mouth was
painfully dry, and he felt a headache coming on. The silence and those eyes on him,
watching him … it was all too much.

“Where are you taking me?” Hunter finally managed to

“To my home. I’m sure you will come to like it.”

Why did it matter whether Hunter liked it or not? He was
being taken against his will.

“I want to know where exactly. I’m still in the States,
right?” Hunter asked.

Michael’s gaze wandered over Hunter’s body before settling
on his face, making Hunter’s skin grow hot.

“We are still on home soil, my dear pet,” Michael said,
purring the last word and making Hunter’s stomach flutter with a mix of emotions. Disgust.
Fear. Anger. It all balled into one and consumed his entire being, making his body

“You have a lot to learn, but that will all have to wait until
we get home,” Michael said.

Just the state he was in—sold against his will, wearing a
straitjacket, and forced into a collar—made Hunter realize that he was at the mercy of a
complete stranger. Michael clearly was a wealthy man, and if he had money, then he surely
had power.

It all proved that Hunter had no control over what
happened to him next. What would Michael do to him? What would Michael
make him do? The sheer realization of his predicament sent a spike of panic through his
entire being. Feeling sick to his stomach, Hunter breathed harder. He felt like he was
suffocating, and no matter how much air he tried to gulp in, it still wasn’t enough.

Hunter looked away and closed his eyes. Swallowed once,
twice, but saliva refused to fill his parched mouth and throat.
Fuck. Was he going to throw up?

“Calm down, Hunter. Breathe,” Michael said.

All Hunter could think about was what type of freaky shit
awaited him. Was Michael going to make him his personal sex slave? Was he going to force
him to star in porno films?

When a hand settled on his shoulder, Hunter startled and
gasped for breath. He opened his eyes and stared at the man who had stolen his life from


About the Author

Fawn writes sometimes dark and always steamy contemporary M/M romance featuring
mafia and billionaires.

An avid
reader of M/M romance, she loves books about D/s relationships, the enemies-to-lovers
trope, and the forced proximity trope, and tends to involve these themes in her own


Author Links

Blog/Website |
Newsletter sign-up | BookBub | Goodreads




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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “Sold” by Ace Fawn

COVER REVEAL: “Scales & Stone” by Jessamyn Kingley


Book Title: Scales
& Stone (D’Vaire, Book 40)

Author and Publisher:
Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of
Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: November 9,

Genre: MM Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Trope: Fated mates

Themes: Love, resolving the past

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 89 000

It is not a standalone story,
but does not
end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads Series Link

Amazon Series Link


Sometimes it takes finding
love to appreciate the best parts of yourself.



Decades after leaving behind a king who attempted to sell
him for wizard experimentation, Lex D’Vairedraconis lives in a place filled with loved ones. At
Court D’Vaire, the dragon shifter has access to everything. He wants for nothing. But his lack
of purpose frustrates him. Surrounded by successful people, Lex can’t figure out how to
channel his energy. And he dearly wants to know why Fate hasn’t paired him with

Rutledge Blackstone is alone. As a gargoyle, he shouldn’t

live among humans, but he fears the many enemies hunting his kind. To survive, gargoyles
must separate. His parents, and even his twin brother, have left him in a house slowly
crumbling around his ears. To comfort himself, he records every happy moment in a
notebook, and waits for the day to add more memories to his treasure trove.

But the gargoyles aren’t being tracked by foes alone. The
new gargoyle rulers and their allies want to aid people like Rutledge. To his shock, the
Council of Sorcery and Shifters wants him to join, and he soon lands an invitation to the
renowned sanctuary at Court D’Vaire. Before he can decide whether to accept, he meets
Lex. Their attraction is instant, but Rutledge is anything but intrepid.

To build a life together, they must learn to love
unconditionally and find their true purpose in life.



Everything inside Rutledge went on instant alert. To his
shock and mild horror, his dick sprang to life, and he hoped no one noticed he was fully
erect. The scent of dishwashing detergent, fabric softener, and household cleaner hit his
nose with unrivaled intensity. The smells of a happy home, something Rutledge yearned for
but feared to ask Fate for. His gargoyle roared with excitement, and the feeling of safety
flowed through Rutledge as his gaze locked with a brown-eyed stranger.

The man was probably about six-foot-three, which made
him about five inches taller than Rutledge. Although he wasn’t lanky by traditional
standards, his shoulders weren’t nearly as broad as a gargoyle’s. His dark hair was short and
combed away from his handsome face. Rutledge’s newfound ability to categorize multiple
races told him the man was a dragon shifter.

The stranger had paired a soft beige sweater nearly the
color of Rutledge’s shirt with faded jeans and boots that matched his scaly irises. His
expression was as astonished as Rutledge felt. Rutledge wondered if he was unhappy with
Fate’s choice for him, and he wished he could ask without embarrassing them both.
Desperate to remember every detail of this life-altering moment, Rutledge didn’t think. He
yanked out the notebook from his shirt pocket, along with a tiny pencil, and scribbled a
detailed description of his mate onto the first blank page he flipped to.

No one in the room said a word as Rutledge muttered and
glanced back at the man in between his hastily scrawled words to ensure that he described
his gift from Fate properly. His gargoyle wanted to know more, but Rutledge could get to
that once he’d finished recording everything to read later when he was alone again.

On his third page, Rutledge finally noted that there were
wolves in the room, and he barely bit back his scream.

“Wolves,” Rutledge yelled.

“Conley, you didn’t tell him we were bringing Nox and
Mortis?” asked a man who had to be six-six and had straight locks that fell to his shoulders in
a silky rain of blue and navy.

“It’s better to explain that in person, I think,” Conley
defended. “Rutledge Blackstone, allow me to present their Highnesses, High King Aleksander
and High King Rafe D’Vaire. The wolves on either side of them are resurrected sentinels tied
to their souls to protect them.”

“You’re supposed to introduce Squirt first,” Aleksander
replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blackstone.”

“I’m sure Dra’Kaedan doesn’t mind if I do things a little out
of order,” Conley argued.

“No, but it’s irritating when people talk about me like I’m
not in the room,” a short man with blond ringlets retorted. “Anyway, I’m Dra’Kaedan, and
the guy scowling behind me is my mate, Brogan.”

“Why do you always assume I’m scowling?” Brogan asked,
his navy eyes narrowed.

“Because he has yet to be wrong about it,” a man with a
striking resemblance to Aleksander drawled in a beautiful, crisp English accent. The others in
the room had fainter echoes of something far from the Texas drawls Rutledge was used to
hearing, but this stranger’s accent was thicker. “Excuse us, we don’t know how to act
appropriately. I’m Worth, and next to me is my best friend, Lex.”

Lex caught Rutledge’s full attention again, and he nearly
jotted his mate’s name down, but he needed to know if the short name was as simple to
spell as it was to pronounce.

“L-e-x?” Rutledge clarified.

A smile played around Lex’s mouth, and Rutledge noticed
dimples so faint he nearly missed them, which he hurriedly added to his list.

“Yes, Rutledge, that’s how I spell it,” Lex said, his accent
even more toe curling than Worth’s.

“How do you spell your name?” Lex asked.

“R-u-t-l-e-d-g-e,” he responded immediately and wondered
why that was important. There was no notebook in Lex’s hands, but maybe he kept a journal
at home?

“Hush, Mortis, I don’t know,” High King Rafe whispered
loudly to the black wolf with hints of navy in his fur. Like Lex and Worth, his accented English
told of a man who’d once lived far from Las Vegas.

Rutledge’s gaze widened as Lex winked at him.

“It’s okay, Mortis,” Lex said. “Rutledge is my mate, and
that’s why it’s important to know how to spell our names.”

“Yes,” Worth shouted as he lifted his fists in celebration. “I
told you your other half was out in the world waiting for you. Now you’ve finally left the
house, and right here he is.”

Lex glared at the taller dragon. “That’s not quite how I
remember the conversation.”

“Yes, well, if you’d written it down like our fair Rutledge,
you could prove your point, but alas, it is your word against mine,” Worth countered.
“Congratulations to you both.”

“Kind of makes you want to hit him with your car again,
doesn’t it?” Aleksander asked Lex.

“It’s a frequent feeling I’ve grown used to in the years that
have passed since,” Lex groused with a glare for Worth as he took two steps closer to the
gargoyle, who was reeling from the extraordinary meeting with the D’Vaires. “Thank you for
agreeing to this visit today, Rutledge. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

Overwhelmed by Lex’s beauty, sexy accent, and lovely
scent, Rutledge managed a blush and a nod.


About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley has
published over thirty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary
passion for her characters, she enthusiastically adds tales to her D’Vaire series and avidly re-
reads them whenever her schedule allows. After decades living in the Washington, DC area,
she now resides in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not
writing or adding new ideas to her beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.


Visit her website

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

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Continue ReadingCOVER REVEAL: “Scales & Stone” by Jessamyn Kingley

NEW RELEASE: “The Score” by Beth Bolden


Book Title: The

Author and Publisher: Beth

Cover Artist: The Book
Brander Boutique

Release Date: October 25,

Genre: Contemporary MM sports romance

Tropes: bad boy reformed, forced proximity, fake boyfriend, roommates
to friends to lovers

Themes: found family, trust issues, mental health, love versus

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 100 000

It is book number three in a
spinoff series.


Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK


Carter Maxwell knows he’s a screwup. Four teams in three
seasons tells the story, as much as he wishes it didn’t.

But finally, he’s landed in a good place, where he
likes the team and the team actually likes him. Even the Condors’ current rebuilding mode
suits him. There’s a new owner. New coach. New players. New rules.

But one rule hasn’t changed: don’t seduce your agent-appointed c*ckblocker.

Ian Parker agrees to live with Carter and keep him
on the straight and narrow for one simple reason: Alec, the agent in charge of cleaning up
Carter’s reputation, has promised him something Ian wants very, very badly.

Even more badly than Carter naked above him and
below him and next to him.

A chance for Ian to become an agent.

But Ian didn’t take into account just how persuasive
Carter is—or just how desperately he desires to be persuaded. Or how, while spending time
with Carter, they’ll somehow stumble into a fake relationship that begins to feel all too

It doesn’t matter that Carter’s never fallen in love
or that he’s never been in a
real relationship. It doesn’t matter that
Ian’s risking his future as an agent.

He’s determined to score the impossible and
reform the bad boy—only after encouraging Carter to misbehave one last time. But this
time, only with him.


“Wait a sec,” Ian said, standing too, but reaching out
and casually catching Carter’s arm. “I know this is going to be awkward, me being around all
the time. I just wanted to acknowledge that, first off.”

“Is it?” Carter really hadn’t thought much about it;
honestly, he’d been too busy trying to figure out how to get around rule number

“Well, yeah, in my experience it is. Most people who
run into us together are going to want an explanation. Your friends. The players here. The
coaches. The staff. Anyone you meet.”

“And what? I shouldn’t tell them why you’re really

“I’m…” Ian hesitated again. “I know what my previous
clients and I would do. We’d discuss ahead of time what role I’d be playing. Often, since I was
in LA, they were well known, so it was easy to pass me off as a personal assistant or a friend.
But here—”

“Nobody’s gonna have a personal assistant around
them all the time,” Carter said. “Especially not me.”

Ian looked surprised again.

“What,” Carter retorted, “I’m not an idiot,

The frost in Ian’s expression melted a little more.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you were.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Carter said wryly. “Why
can’t we just tell people what you really are?”

“You’d be okay with that?”

Carter realized with a jolt that the person who was
really worried about this wasn’t him, the way Ian was concerned about, but Ian

Wasn’t that interesting?

“It’s hardly like people don’t know my reputation,”
Carter said.

“Oh. Alright. Well, that’s your choice.”

“We can just say you’re my

“If that’s the word you want to use,” Ian

But as they walked out of the conference room,
Carter couldn’t shake the feeling that Ian was the one who was preoccupied with not
only what to call himself, but maybe even what kind of position he’d be occupying in Carter’s

As they walked down the hall, and Carter pushed the
down elevator button, to take it to the lower level and the team cafeteria, Ian turned to him
and said, “Well, you getting shut down by half the team is pretty good news for rule number

Carter rolled his eyes. “Not when I could go to the
Pirate’s Booty or any other bar or restaurant or coffee shop in the city and find someone to
pick up in point five seconds.”

“Modest, much?”

“Listen, you wanted honesty, that’s the honest truth
right there.” Carter had sex because it was easy, yes, and it also helped stem the tide
of his temper. Maybe if sex had been harder for him to come by, he’d have found something
else to use.

But sex was easy, for him, so sex it

Or at least it had been sex.

Carter mournfully poured one out for all the great sex
he wasn’t going to be having in the next few months.

About the Author

A lifelong Pacific Northwester,
Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth
still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh.

Beth has been writing practically
since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big
Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She has published
over forty novels and novellas.


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NEW RELEASE: “Recalling my Demon” by Colette Davison. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!


Book Title: Recalling My
Demon (Possessive Love)

Author and Publisher: Colette

Cover Artist: Charli

Release Date: October 19, 2023

Genre: Paranormal M/M Romance

Tropes: Age gap, Daddy kink, human and demon

Themes: acceptance, trust

Heat Rating: 3.5/4 out of 5

Length: 45,000

It’s part of a multi-author
series. All the books standalone and this
doesn’t not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

I’m told Nethermire
House is haunted, but the truth is even stranger.


Nethermire is home to an eccentric 80-year-old and the
young man she claims is her great-nephew.

Except he’s not.

He’s a demon.

Brin’s chaotic, bratty ways draw me to him. When he calls
me Daddy, I’m a goner. I want to protect him, take care of him, and call him mine.

But when he gets summoned to hell, our happiness is

Can I recall him to my side, or will I lose him

Recalling My Demon is a standalone MM paranormal romance in the Possessive Love multi-author
. It has an age-gap relationship between a
bratty demon who needs someone to love him more than he realises and an ex-priest who’s
now a Daddy.


“Nurse Ian.” He raises his thick, dark brows a fraction, his eyes
sparkling as he smirks. “Mo—Martha has told me all about you.” His voice is soft, light, and

“You’re her grand-nephew?”

“Brin.” He flicks his gaze over me. “You are gorgeous.”

I take a half step back. “Uh—”

“I shouldn’t have said that, should I?” He runs his thumb over
his bottom lip. “I’d apologise, except it’s true. Hm, you are one gorgeous man.”

So is he. I swallow, needing to maintain my composure and
remain professional. “Martha is through here.” I gesture to the lounge.

“She likes that room. Have you seen the rest of the house? I
could give you a tour.”

“No, I haven’t.”

Brin flounces into the house, kicks his boots off, and wanders
into the lounge. I follow in his wake. He leans down to kiss his great-aunt on the forehead,
grabs a cake off the plate, and sits in a chair with one leg looped over the arm. He peels the
case away from the cake and takes a big bite. Crumbs drop onto his chin, so he flicks his
tongue out to lick them off.

“Ian is here to do my welfare check,” Martha explains.

“I guessed.” Brin stares at me as he devours the rest of the

I can’t take my eyes off him.

“Don’t let me stop you from doing your job. I love watching a
man in uniform work.” He winks.

“You’ll have to forgive him. My grand-nephew is a terrible flirt,”
Martha says.

I scrabble to get the blood pressure monitor out of my bag and
kneel beside Martha.

“A man in uniform on his knees. Sexy.”

“Brin,” Martha says, her tone not as sharp and short as I’d
expect for a true admonishment.

“What? It’s true.”

About the Author

Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she
met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually
led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England
with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook Page | Facebook Group: Colette’s
Cosy Corner

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BOOK BLAST: “The Road to Montepulciano” by Garrick Jones.


Book Title: The Road to

Author: Garrick

Publisher: Moshpit

Cover Artist: Garrick

Release Date: September 19,

Genre: Crime Thriller/Historical Fiction

Themes: Sowing one’s oats; Finding Mr. Right; Acceptance in

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 140 500 words/ 393
pages (paperback version)

It is a standalone book and
oes not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Smashwords


Two years after finishing his tour of duty in the

Occupational Forces in Japan, Damson O’Reilly arrives in Siena, Italy. Sight-unseen at a local
auction, he buys an abandoned Tuscan farmhouse in which he aims to write, paint, and start
a new life.

The house, passed over at auction, becomes an
impulse buy when it’s put up for a final time. He’s prepared for a semi-ruin, happy to turn his
hand to renovating the house—however, what he’s totally unprepared for are three dead
bodies, one of which he stumbles over when he arrives at La Mensola, the name of his
isolated farmhouse on the road between Siena and Montepulciano.

Against the backdrop of a series of grisly murders,
The Road to Montepulciano is the story of a young man, still suffering the scars of war, who,
despite betrayal of trust and surrounded by a complex web of lies, finds friendship, love and
the warmth of community.


I was lying in bed listening to Donati potter around in the
kitchen for a few minutes, trying to make up my mind whether or not to get out of bed. I
checked my watch: half past five. It was still dark outside—it wouldn’t start getting light for
another three-quarters of an hour.

He had to know, I thought, reflecting on the whole of last
evening. He must have guessed that I was queer, otherwise what had happened wouldn’t
have taken place. We’d have washed separately, each waiting in our rooms until the other
had finished, then continued to drink, play cards and behave like kids, but with our clothes
on … or at least our underwear.

Some people just seemed to know it about me, although I
wasn’t aware that I’d ever telegraphed where my preferences lay. A few times during the
war I’d found myself on the receiving end of some very not-so-subtle advances quite out of
the blue, far more forthright than the almost imperceptible, ever-so-slightly charged evening
I’d enjoyed last night. And as for him? Well, I wasn’t sure just yet. There was something
though that made me wonder: a frequent holding of eye contact, as if he was trying to
discover what I was thinking, always breaking away abruptly with a soft smile on his face.

I’d never been able to recognise who was one of the tribe
like some of my bedfellows, although at the same time I’d never been shy to leap at an
opportunity when it offered itself up. But I found it hard to initiate things. Usually I’d wait
until the other person either made a move or gave me a sign that he was interested in more
than passing the time of day.

I’d heard Italian men were basically open to
anything—whether that was true or not, I had no idea. Maybe Donati was just a regular man
who liked a bit of variety every so often—I’d met a few of those—or maybe he was just like
me: lonely and looking for a friend.

Deciding to finally get up, I’d barely thrown back the sheet
and sat up, my feet drawn up and knees splayed while I leaned over, searching for my
cigarettes—which for some strange reason I’d thrown into my haversack last night—when
Renzo walked into the room with a demitasse in each hand. The smell of the coffee made my
stomach grumble.

He was naked too. It seemed that clothing was to be an
optional extra during my stay … I returned his smile.

Buongiorno, Damson,” he said, handing
one of the cups to me, then sat in the middle of the bed, one of his legs at an angle, the
knee resting on my foot.

Buongiorno, Renzo. You. Sleep.

Hai dormito
” he corrected my Italian, saying the
words slowly, twirling his finger in the air to encourage me to repeat the correct version.

“In English?” Renzo asked after I’d got it right.

“Did you sleep well?”

When he repeated the words, he made a pretty good fist of
it, so I held out my hand. The shake happened directly over my crotch, mainly because
having finished his coffee he’d stretched out over the bed. It was obvious that my genitals
were right in front of his face, but his eyes hadn’t flicked away from my own, despite his
Cheshire cat grin. This time I was the first to break eye contact, playfully nudging his
shoulder with my foot, then reaching for my cigarettes once more.

We chatted for a while, trying out words with each other
while smoking, Renzo idly playing with the hair trail below his navel while we traded
vocabulary for items in the room. Then, after we’d given each other a lesson on conjugating
the present tense of the verb “to be” in our own languages, I checked my watch. “Is that the
time?” I said in English. I jumped out of bed, pulling on my only pair of slacks and grabbing a
white American T-shirt from my haversack. It was wrinkled, but there was nothing I could do
about it.

“No …?” he asked, making a plucking gesture at his waist
with his thumb.

Damn, I’d been so distracted that I’d forgotten. Pulling off
my trousers, I rummaged in my backpack again and found a pair of Y-fronts—they were a
French brand and fairly new on the market. I usually washed my smalls every night, but
there’d been too much going on and it had slipped my mind

Renzo whistled as I pulled them on, watching as I put my
hand down inside the front of the waistband and adjusted myself in the pouch before pulling
on my trousers once more.

“You. Like?” I asked.

He nodded, so I found another pair, still in its packet, and
threw them to him. “Go ahead,” I said, while pulling on my socks, then lacing my canvas

He undid the packet, swung his legs off the bed, put both
feet in the underpants, then, as he stood up, pulled them up, turning to look at his arse in
the mirror of the wardrobe. “
Che bel
,” he said, winking over his shoulder at

I laughed. That phrase I did understand, and he did have a
very nice arse.

About the Author

From the outback to the

After a thirty-year career as a
professional opera singer, performing as a soloist in opera houses and in concert halls all
over the world, I took up a position as lecturer in music in Australia in 1999, at the Central
Queensland Conservatorium of Music, which is now part of CQ University.

Brought up in Australia,
between the bush and the beaches of the Eastern suburbs, I retired in 2015 and now live in
the tropics, writing, gardening, and finally finding time to enjoy life and to re-establish a
connection with who I am after a very busy career on the stage and as an

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Continue ReadingBOOK BLAST: “The Road to Montepulciano” by Garrick Jones.

NEW RELEASE: “Treading Water” by Alex Winters.


Book Title: Treading Water

Author: Alex

Cover Artist: Reece

Release Date: October 03,

Genres: Contemporary M/M Sports Romance, Gay Romance, Gay

Tropes: Hollywood A-Lister Versus Small Town Stud, Actor Versus Athlete,
Coming Out, Forced Proximity

Themes: (Almost) first time gay, summer love, Hollywood scandal, coach
falling for his student, student falling for his coach, deserted summer camp

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 310

It is a standalone book and
oes not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | B&N
| Dreamspinner Press

What happens when love
is sink or swim?


Actor Tucker Crawford is having the worst summer ever.
Thanks to a viral video of him trying to swim, he’s the laughingstock of Hollywood and his
role in a hit TV series is in jeopardy. The only bright spot is Tucker’s sexy new swim coach,
Reed Oliver, but even that has its problems—because Tucker is deep in the closet and has
never been with a guy.

Reed Oliver is having the best summer ever. He’s just scored
a high-paying freelance gig teaching a Hollywood actor how to swim. The two of them have
the run of a deserted summer camp, complete with an Olympic-size swimming pool. But
when cocky playboy Reed meets shy, virgin Tucker, sparks fly and Reed’s walk-in-the-park
coaching job becomes a minefield of temptation. Once they kiss for the first time, there’s no
way to overcome their mutual passion and no looking back. But after two weeks of secluded
intimacy, can they keep their romance alive in the real world?


Tuck made a tongue-clucking sound and then sipped the last of
his beer. “My strategy at this point is just get through the day without another scandal, you

Reed gave him a stern, fatherly glance. “You’ve got to let that
go, Tuck. You can’t let it control your life.”

“Easy for you to say, Reed.”

“I know it, but that’s what we’re here for, right?”

Tucker sat up, and little ripples fluttered across his concave
belly. Reed inched up as well and reached to open the cooler top so one of them could slip
their hand inside. Tuck obviously had the same idea, and their fingers glanced across one
another’s as they reached for the lid.

“Sorry!” they blurted at the same time, descending into
mirthful little beer-buzzed giggles until Reed noticed they were still lingering in each other’s

“I’ll grab the beer.” Reed reluctantly pulled his hand away.

“Okay, but it’s gotta be my last.”

Reed glanced at the two or three bottles left inside the
shimmering ice. “Oh yeah?”

“Big day tomorrow, right?”

Reed sighed. For some reason, the last thing he wanted to do
with Tucker at the moment was work. Coach. Admonish. Correct. Teach. “I mean, it’s not like
we have to set our alarms, though, right?”

Tucker gave him a wry grin. “This how you are with your
swimmers back home?”

“Hell no,” he barked, very much the same way he might at
them. Then he softened. “But this is different.”

They were still sitting up. The sun caressed Tucker’s smooth,
unlined face like an unseen hand, and they were mere inches away from each other
now—so close Reed could smell the chlorine in Tucker’s hair and feel the heat coming off his
half-naked body in tempting, shimmering waves that Reed felt deep inside his clenched gut.
“Oh yeah? How so?”

Their eyes met in the afternoon sun. Reed’s answer was
revealing in more ways than one. “I’m miles away from home, kid.”

About the Author

Alex Winters is the
pseudonym of a busy restaurant manager whose curious young staff would love nothing
more than to follow him around the dining room reading his steamiest, most romantic
passages aloud! When not writing romantic holiday stories of various heat levels, he enjoys
long walks with his wife, scary movies and smooth jazz. Visit him at to see what
stories are brewing up next!

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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “Treading Water” by Alex Winters.