RELEASE BLITZ: “Townies” by W.S. Long

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title:
Townies

Author: W.S.
Long

Publisher: JMS
Books

Cover Artist: Written Ink
Designs

Release Date: November 6,
2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness, first time

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 45 000 words/ 151
pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Publisher | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Can a secret crush who
rejected Johnny be someone he can trust? And why would the richest teenager in town be
interested?

Blurb

Johnny Cunningham had a secret crush on the high school
quarterback, Zach Carpenter. Because of fear and anxiety, he didn’t do anything about it. A
chance meeting after high school brings their paths together again, and sparks fly.

Zach Carpenter was born into the richest family in town,
but since 10
th grade he has been attracted to Johnny Cunningham and wasn’t sure if Johnny liked
him too. When they meet again after high school, Zach cannot deny his strong attraction to
Johnny and pursues him, even though Johnny is a Townie and dirt poor and Zach’s parents
have already determined Zach’s path in life.

When Johnny discovers that Zach suffers from bipolar
disorder, and that Zach’s parents have other plans for Zach that don’t include Johnny, can
they overcome these obstacles and make their love last forever?

Excerpt

The drive to their mom’s Waffle House shouldn’t have
taken long but stop and go traffic going to the restaurant added several minutes to their
drive.


As they rounded Memorial Park, some campaign
signs lined the road.


“I can’t believe they have election signs up already.
It’s still a year off.” Johnny eyed one small sign.
Pete Buttigieg.

“That’s the gay guy, right?” Colton
asked.


“Yeah. I heard people still don’t know how to
pronounce it.”


“He’s not going to win. Look how many Trump
2020 signs there are here.”


“He won this county last time.” Johnny sighed. “He
won the whole state, I think.”


“Could you imagine if a queer man won? Holy

hell?” Colton laughed. “Here we are.” Colton pulled up, and parked.

Johnny and Colton walked quickly into the
restaurant and were greeted by Gladys. Their mom soon appeared from the
back.


“Hey you two, happy birthday!” Sharon beamed.
“Take that booth over there.” Their mother pointed to the corner and Colton and Johnny
took the seats quickly with Johnny taking the seat that faced the entrance.


Gladys came up to them with a coffee pot in her
hands. Johnny turned the cup over on the saucer and let Gladys pour. “I can’t believe you
two are nineteen. High school graduation was just days ago, not a month or so.” She
chuckled as she poured a cup for Colton.


Sharon smiled, and placed her hand on Johnny’s
shoulder. “Glad you could make it Conn — I’m sorry, Johnny. God that’s going to take time
getting use to calling you what your grandpa called you. Your brother said you were like the
dead this morning.”


“Yeah, why sweetie? It took me how many years to
tell you two apart, now you got be called Johnny now?” Gladys laughed.


“What did the boys want?” Dwayne, Gladys’s
husband yelled.


“The usual, right” Sharon asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said.

“Yeah,” Colton. “Me too.”

Johnny kicked Colton underneath the
table.


Sharon put her hands on her hips and glared at
Colton. Johnny nudged his shoe against Colton.


“I’m sorry.” Colton’s face flushed. “Yes,
ma’am.”


“That’s better.” Sharon relaxed her arms. Gladys

chortled as she went back to the counter to take care of a customer who wanted to pay his
bill.

“I bought a small cake for you two from Publix to
have before you leave. I have to work until nine tonight. So, we’ll just have to a birthday
dinner another time. Raincheck?”


“That’s fine, Mom.” Johnny smiled. “Chocolate
cake? Yellow cake?”


“It’s yellow cake with fudge icing.” She held her
finger out. “I’ll be right back.”


The door opened with a small bell ring, and Zach
Carpenter walked in with an older man.


Johnny instinctively slunk down in his
seat.


Colton’s eyebrows knitted together, “What?”
Colton twisted his body to where Zach stood


Zach was scanning to see where they should
sit.


“You can sit anywhere you want honey!” Gladys
shouted, as she took the customer’s twenty and made change from his bill.


“Hey, Zach!” Colton shouted.

Johnny’s neck heated.

“Hey, Colton, Connor, what’s up?” Zach Carpenter
walked toward them; his companion followed him too. Zach stood at least six feet three
inches, and when Colton stood up to greet Zach, it was noticeable that Colton was a couple
of inches shorter.


Zach had three days or so of light brown stubble
that contrasted with his unruly ash brown hair. The grey shirt he wore seemed painted on
his sculpted chest. The shirt further tapered into a V-shape, showcasing his small waist. The
pink shorts he wore showed off Zach’s thigh muscles. Johnny didn’t know what brand of
moccasins Zach was wearing but he was sure he didn’t buy it from Wal-Mart.


The man next to Zach was shorter; thinning salt

and pepper gray; the man’s eyeglasses balanced at the end of the gentleman’s
nose.

Before Zach or Colton could say anything, Sharon
appeared, holding the cake in one hand, and another tried to keep the candles on the cake
from blowing out.


“It’s your birthday?” Zach asked, staring at Johnny,
who nodded quietly slightly embarrassed when their mom started singing.


“Our birthday,” Colton corrected.

Luckily for them, Gladys took over when their
mother faltered in staying in tune, and Gladys’s golden voice, trained from years of choir
practice at the local A.M.E. church, got other patrons to clap at the end, right before the
twins blew out the candles. Zach and the older man next to clapped hard.


Dwayne came out with grilled cheese and fries and
gave the plates to Gladys who in turn placed them in front of the boys.


Sharon hugged her boys and went back to the back
office while Gladys and Dwayne went back behind the counter.


“This is my uncle, Roderick,” Zach said. “He’s
visiting from Boston and saw this restaurant from across the bridge from his hotel on
Gulfside.


“We don’t have them in Massachusetts.” Roderick
eyed Johnny and Colton’s plate as he scanned the cooking area. “I remember as a kid going
to them in Pennsylvania. We would stop after summer camp in upstate New York just to try
the grits. I haven’t had grits in so long.”


“Well, uncle, I can tell you’re hungry so let’s take a
seat.” Zach waved goodbye at Colton, Johnny, and Sharon as Gladys passed with two fresh
plates for the cake.


Johnny relaxed when Zach and Roderick sat in a
booth several feet away and not in the empty booth right next to them.

About the Author

Immigrant, military-brat, gay
veteran, and former theme park employee, among other things, W.S. Long upon leaving the

military became a lawyer. During the day, he practices law but at night he reads and writes
male-male romance under this pen name. Once in a while W.S. Long travels or dreams
about traveling to wonderful places with his wonderful husband, a mild-mannered college
professor.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Tumblr
|
Twitter | Instagram

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Seashell Virgin” by Steve Schatz. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Seashell
Virgin

Author: Steve
Schatz

Publisher: Any Summer
Sunday Books

Cover Artist: James –
GoOnWrite.com

Release Date: October 31,
2021

Genre: Humorous Mystery, Gay Friends, Drag

Tropes: Friends overcoming haters,

Themes: Empowering, humor

Heat Rating: 2
flames

Length: 85 000 words/ 288
pages

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

It is part of a series with
related characters and themes, but reading the other books in the series is not required.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Mystery, Wit &
Drag Queens

Blurb

Fast-paced fun. Touching and tawdry. Churchies, crooks,
and rapscallions scheme to close our only gay bar, rape a forest, and get rich with a

gay-hating charter school. Break-ins, kidnapping, threats, blackmail, bondage, and the most
spectacular drag show the world has ever seen, thrill and delight you as the anti-heroes
from Nacho Mama’s Patio Cafe once more answer the call to set things straight, as it
were.

Excerpt

Chapter 1 – Some Days Suck

Gone! A fourteen-foot truck packed to the tits with geegaws, gowns, and glamour—spirited
away. I had parked it right here, less than thirty minutes before, obvious as a zit on a first
date, across the street from Hoosier Daddy, the town’s only gay bar. Close, so when I got
stuck carrying everything TiaRa del Fuego chose into the dressing rooms backstage, I’d have
less of a struggle. I had already been far too butch for a day off. I had planned for a day full
of napping, occasional attempts at cleaning, some light reading, and more napping. Then
Beau showed up far too early and ever since, I had been far too active for someone of my
tender years and with my lack of motivation.

All that splendor had not just walked itself into the van. No, these arms, these legs, and this
back had been repeatedly besmirched by physical effort and all were letting their
displeasure be known. When I’d pulled up to the bar a few minutes earlier, I wanted,
needed, and deserved a drink, possibly two—while I described the glories that awaited in
the truck to TiaRa and Suave. Timmy had laid the groundwork and my ebullience had sealed
the deal. TiaRa had said she positively hungered for the gowns and baubles. Suave KitTan
had declared she already had a plan to sneak a quantity of the lovely things into her store,
Suave Delights, while evading the watchful eye of her devoted husband Foxy, who had once
again decreed no new stock was allowed until there were sales to match. Suave was always
much more interested in acquisition than disposition. All that remained between me and a
lovely lie down was the actual hand over. So, we went out to complete the exchange.
Simple. But there the truck wasn’t.

“Are you sure you parked it here?” asked TiaRa in much the same tone a mother uses when
asking, “Where did you see it last?”

Swallowing my frustration, I managed to contain my impulse to point out that my age and
mental abilities had not declined to such an extent that I would have forgotten where I had
parked the truck in such a short time. TiaRa, a delicate being, did not deserve snippy replies,
despite my rising alarm.

The truck had been either towed or stolen. One possibility was expensive, and the other
horrifying. I had just promised the contents to TiaRa and Suave and I hated to disappoint
them. Far worse, the truck was actually the property of my latest job. I had only recently

been given keys to the shop and knew where the keys to the truck were kept. No one had
been at work when Beau’s moving emergency arose. The truck wasn’t scheduled to be used,
so I had borrowed it without asking. I just left a note for Brian, the owner. I knew this was
generally acceptable. Others had done it, but I was new and hadn’t taken the liberty before.
If the truck was in any way damaged, I would be looking for a new job. If it had been stolen,
I might be looking for a lawyer. I do not handle stress well. My mouth tends to make talking
motions without actually forming words. Tia and Suave looked at me with growing concern.

Maybe the churchies, I thought.

About the Author

Steve Schatz writes with a
crazy mashup of laughs and excitement and humor. Readers can’t stop reading, but don’t
want the story to end. Each book is an adventure where endearing anti-heroes struggle
against this crazy world and triumph using the twin forces of intentional, creative action and
friends helping friends. Schatz draws on a lifetime of varied and fascinating experiences,
from instructional designer and college prof to party clown and nightclub
owner.

His series of adult fiction
highlights a group of middle-aged gay friends who gather every week in a small, Indiana
college town. Mixing drinks, snappy repartee, and the humor and joy of long-time friends, in
one book they rescue the fair drag queen from an obvious miscreant. In another, they ride
to the protection of a lesbian candidate for judge who is being targeted by mysterious
evil-doers. The excitement reveals itself against a backdrop of drag performance and efforts
by anti-heroes. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll beg for more. Steve Schatz offers a new voice
and a smile for the LGBT community and their friends.

Author Links

Blog/Website
|
Twitter: @AnySummerSunday

Facebook | Newsletter sign-up

Giveaway

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Giveaway for a chance to win

an ebook of each of the 3 books in the series

(Any Summer Sunday, Who
Plugged the Dyke, and Seashell Virgin)

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BOOK BLAST: “Finding Sarah” by Aprille Caniff

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Finding Sarah

Author: Aprille
Canniff

Publisher: Fulton
Books

Release Date: August 26,
2021

Genre: Romance, F/F Romance

Tropes: Trauma, New Girl in Town

Themes: Internal Struggle, Relationship, Love

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 60 000 words/ 187
pages

The book ends on a
cliffhanger.
There is a follow-on book
coming.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

The past has left her
scarred and broken, but does she have the strength to risk her heart on the
future?

Blurb

When Sarah steps off the plane in Provincetown, she has
only one goal—to leave the past behind her. As she begins her journey of rediscovering

herself, she meets one of the town’s deputies under less-than-ideal circumstances but soon
finds herself drawn to her in ways she knows she can’t allow.

Deputy Catrina Diaz loves her job, her family, and her
friends, which is why she became a deputy to begin with, to keep her town and those she
loves safe. When she crosses paths with Sarah, a newcomer to town, she finds herself
wanting more than Sarah is wanting to give.

Sarah fights hard to find herself as the past keeps finding
new ways to haunt her. As their relationship grows, will the secrets Sarah is hiding, secrets
that Cat realizes everyone knows but her, finally pull them apart? Can Sarah trust Cat
enough to overcome her past and the insecurities it has caused and take a chance on the
one thing she thought she could never have again-love?

Excerpt

Grateful for the privacy, Sarah sat down, facing Cat on the
couch. “Cat, I don’t want you to think…” Sarah paused, struggling to find the words to
explain.

“What? That you’re avoiding me?” Cat reached over and
took Sarah’s hand, their fingers automatically intertwining. “Sarah, I like you. I like spending
time with you.”

Sarah was overcome with sadness. “Cat, we can’t.”

“Give me one good reason why.”

A tear slid down her cheek as she spoke the simple truth
that had consumed her since she had met Cat. “Because I’m broken, and you deserve
better.”

Cat reached over and gently wiped the errant tear away
from Sarah’s cheek. “We are all broken in some way, but that doesn’t mean we can’t help
each other to heal.”

Sarah shook her head, frustrated for what she wanted and
for what she could never have. “Cat, you don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t, but I’m willing to wait until you are ready to
tell me. Until then…” Cat leaned forward and gently, almost shyly, placed a soft kiss on
Sarah’s lips. The feel of Sarah’s lips flooded her senses and filled her with a warmth so
intense she finally understood what all the romance novels were talking about. She
understood what it meant to fall with one simple kiss. “I want to spend time getting to know
the Sarah you are wanting to become.”

Sarah did her best to fight back and hide the feelings she
had for Cat, but that kiss, how could she hold back now? That one simple kiss tore down the
walls she had built to protect herself and others. She had to do what was right and stop this
before it got out of control, but what her mind wanted was overridden by her heart,
surprising even herself. “Cat, I don’t know if I could handle you walking away if you find out
what happened to me. I’m telling you, it’s horrible, and it’s not something you can
unsee.”

It broke Cat’s heart to see the tears that were now flowing
freely down Sarah’s cheeks. She wanted to erase the past and the hurt it had caused her.
Instead, she pulled Sarah into her arms and held her as she cried. “I see you for who you
are, and that’s all that matters. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

Sarah wanted to say no because she couldn’t take anymore
hurt or disappointment in her life, but the longer Cat held her, the harder it was to fight.
Finally, she dried her eyes and sat up. “Maybe…”

About the Author

Aprille Canniff retired from
the military after 24 years of service and has deployed to multiple Middle Eastern locations
throughout her military career. She is a full-time Deputy Sheriff who loves her job and
wakes up every morning ready for another day. Her passions include fishing as a catch and
release type girl and hiking with her wife. Her two cats determine the pace of her future
books so she never gives a timeline for completion.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Cosy & Chill” by Jackie Keswick. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Cosy & Chill

Author: Jackie
Keswick

Publisher: Jackie
Keswick

Cover Artist: Covers by
Jo

Release Date: November 10,
2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance with a Touch of
Magic

Tropes: Opposites Attract, everyday magic, stranded fae, lost treasure,
house mates, home-made family / found family

Themes: How to make dreams come true

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: approx. 62 000
words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon DE | Amazon AU

Romance with a Touch of
Fae

Blurb

What does it take to change your life?

Not “manly” enough for his father, quiet, industrious Finn
dreams of his own knitting store. He needs Leo’s enthusiasm to take the steps that make his
dream come true.

Cheerful, adventurous Leo puts on a good front selling
artisan ice cream at the market, but shies away from fulfilling his grandmother’s last wish.
He needs Finn’s love and support to tackle his past and put it to rest for good.

Add a Saxon treasure, a fae stranded in the human world,
and an empty store with very unusual rental terms and falling in love is not the only
challenge Finn and Leo have to face.

But there’s magic in dreams, and all they have to do is hold on tight.

Excerpt

Finn’s boots squelched with every step. When he kicked
them off on his parents’ doorstep, water seeped from his wet socks. “I hate November,” he
grumbled while he hunted for his keys. “And weather forecasters.”

They hadn’t predicted this morning’s downpour, and Finn
minded that. He might have taken an umbrella had he known. Or a boat.

He’d gone to the post office to drop off his latest batch of
parcels, detouring on to the far end of the High Street to look at an empty store on the way
back. Double-fronted with a bow window, it was perfect for the shop he dreamed of. He’d
lingered in front of the dusty windows, imagining them sparkling clean, and the shelves in
the room beyond filled to bursting—until the rain had prompted him to leave.

The shop was all he could think of and if wishes were coins,
he’d have rented it already. As matters stood, he hadn’t even enquired.

Finn pushed open the door, and a ball of russet yarn with
two needles sticking through it hit him right in the face.

“How many times have I told you not to leave your prissy
stuff lying around the house?” His father bellowed at full volume from three feet
away.

Finn wanted to point out that his ears worked fine, thank
you very much, but knew that it would only make matters worse. He picked up the yarn,
grateful that neither needle had poked his eye out, and that his father’s rough treatment
hadn’t dropped any stitches.

“Sorry, Dad,” he muttered, meaning it. He’d been working
on a commission when he realised that he’d miss the parcel collection if he didn’t hurry. In
his rush to the door, he’d brought the half-finished glove in his wake. He should have taken it
back to his room and run if he’d needed to, but that was water under the bridge.

He hung up his jacket in the hallway, then stripped off his
sodden socks and his T-shirt so he could dry his feet before leaving wet footprints
everywhere. He wiped up the water on the wooden floor for good measure before he made
his way up the stairs.

If his father was yelling when it was barely five o’clock, then
the rest of the evening wouldn’t be peaceful. No doubt he’d already opened the bottle of
Scotch he’d bought yesterday.

Finn couldn’t cope with much more of this. Christmas was
two months away. His list of orders was as long as his arm and turning away new business
was not an option. He needed to work, not sit in his room, keeping half an ear out for
trouble.

The familiar, colourful clutter in his room soothed his mind.
The space wasn’t large, just roomy enough for a bed, a wardrobe, and his desk. Every free
corner held boxes and baskets filled with yarn, and he hunted for a piece he could create in
a few hours. Hats were good for that. He could knock those out in no time flat.

His order book showed two requests for hats, and both
were his favourites: custom orders.

He opened the first file to the smiling face of a young
woman with green eyes, red hair a few shades darker than his own bright copper, and a
spray of freckles across her nose. She’d requested a hat in a flattering style, but had
specified nothing else.
Moss
green
, his mind supplied immediately.
Mohair. A close-fitting hat with a swirl
pattern.

Suddenly excited, he went rummaging under his desk for a
skein of moss-green yarn that showed tiny speckles of deep red here and there. He stuffed
the yarn into his messenger bag along with his needle case, a measuring tape and the

customer’s measurements. Then he changed into dry clothes and checked the weather. The
rain had let up a bit, and Finn hoped he could make it to the pub without getting soaked
again.

His father was swearing at something on the telly, as had
become his habit. Finn tiptoed out and breathed a sigh of relief when he stood in the rain.
Everything set off his father’s temper these days. Especially Finn.

He really should move out. He would move out. As
soon as he’d saved enough to afford the rent on a small shop with a room where he could
sleep. Maybe then, his father wouldn’t be so angry all the time and his mother would smile
again.

Three hours later, the moss-green hat was nearing
completion. Warm through after a dinner of steak pie and chips, and nursing a second beer,
Finn felt almost happy. He was a familiar sight in the Crown & Anchor, tucked into a
corner with his yarns and needles. It was a place where he could work without fear of
interruption, and he’d been coming here ever since his father had lost his job and started
drinking.

Food and peace weren’t the only things to recommend the
pub. It was a great place to pick up commissions. People always looked for unusual,
one-of-a-kind gifts, and he’d made christening gowns, blankets, baby clothes, scarves, hats,
gloves, even Christmas ornaments.

The crowd was friendly and Annabelle, who held the pub’s
license and worked at the bar that night, was more supportive than his parents had ever
been. He’d made her a long cardigan, wine- red yak with a touch of silk, and she was
perfectly happy for him to sit in his corner and knit. She even recommended him to friends
and customers.

He hadn’t shared his dreams of owning a yarn shop with
anyone, but maybe it was time to change that. He was working up his courage to ask her
about business loans and setup grants, but he’d wait until she’d finished speaking to the guy
leaning on the bar.

He had broad shoulders that tapered to slim hips, a trim
backside, and long legs.
A fisherman’s rib
jumper
, Finn’s mind suggested.
Navy blue AAran. Or tweed, indigo with gold
speckles.
With a high collar to show off that
long neck and let the slightly too long blond hair pool like gold against the blue.

You’re staring. Stop it.

That was easier said than done until Finn thought to
wonder why the guy had four little Tupperware dishes open on the bar between himself and

Annabelle.

He was explaining something to her, talking not just with
his hands but with his whole body. There was passion in that lithe form, something bright
and shining that held Finn’s interest until he realised he hadn’t stopped staring at
all.

He dropped his gaze to his newly finished hat and tried to
focus on the pattern, the run of the yarn. It would suit the lady who’d sent the photo. It
would frame her delicate face, set off the striking hair, and bring out the green of her eyes.
He knew the hat would find favour with her, but—for once—knitting couldn’t hold his
mind.

The blond man at the bar drew his mind and his eyes, and
Finn caught the moment when all that passion fell to ashes. The man’s shoulders slumped
and one of his hands dropped to his side.

Annabelle watched him with an apologetic smile as he
returned his dishes to his bag. She pulled a beer for him and handed it across the
bar.

For a heartbeat, he appeared as if he was going to refuse.
Then he dipped his head in thanks and reached for the glass. He slung the strap of his bag
over his shoulder and turned away from the bar.

In a move that surprised him by its daring, Finn caught the
man’s gaze, flicked his own to the empty seat at this table. He’d never been so brazen
before, but something in the man’s wary determination spoke to him. He wasn’t sure what
the blond man saw, but he came over and set his beer on the table.

“May I?”

About the Author

Jackie Keswick was born
behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping
off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only
girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally
settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a
hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected
reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English
history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks
for everything, including her characters and the cat.


And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus
stops.


For questions and comments, not restricted to
green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in
all the usual places

Blog/Website
|
Facebook group | Facebook page | Twitter

Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up | TikTok | Patreon

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Remember When” by BL Maxwell. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Remember When

Author: BL Maxwell

Publisher and Cover Artist: BL
Maxwell

Release Date: November 11,
2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M
Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers,
small town, holiday romance

Themes: Secret crush, secrets
revealed

Heat Rating: 2
flames

Length: 50 500
words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

A night to remember, a
confession, and a lifetime of love in this small town, friends to lovers Christmas
romance.

Blurb

Andrew Lawson’s life in Sacramento has turned from being
everything he dreamed of growing up, to a lonely place where finding someone special to

share his life with is impossible. When the first person he meets on returning home for
Thanksgiving is his childhood friend Link, it’s a reminder of happier times when his whole
future lay in front of him. Agreeing to a drink before heading to his parent’s place is a way to
reconnect, and a great way to start the holiday.

Link Stanton never considered leaving the small farming
town he grew up in, but he misses Andy more than he’ll ever admit. Secretly lusting after a
friend is bad enough but being in love with him is so much worse. One drink with friends
seems harmless enough, after all, catching up on old times can’t be a bad thing, until beers
turn to shots, and Link reveals how he really feels.

Everything could change, and if Andy doesn’t remember
Link’s heartfelt confession, they could carry on as friends. But if he does remember, this
could be either the worst, or the best, Christmas of all.

Excerpt

Sunday morning came and I slept in. The past few days,
including two nights of drinking, had finally caught up with me. I’d stayed up late the night
before texting with Link about anything and nothing at all. Like always, that was just how it
was between us.

Around ten I rolled out of bed and checked my phone. A
few clients had messaged hoping to get in sometime before Christmas. They were smart to
book it now. Even though it was a month away, by the end of this week there wouldn’t be
any openings.

It was a perfect Sunday, I didn’t leave the house and got
everything ready for the week. This week would be the beginning, and it wouldn’t let up
until Christmas Eve. I normally worked it, but after this year I’d decided it was time to start
taking it off.

I was just settled down on the couch and turned on the TV
when my phone rang. “Hello?” “Hey.” I’d know that smooth deep voice anywhere.

“I was just thinking about you.” It wasn’t a lie, since I’d left
home Link had been on my mind constantly.

“Good thoughts I hope.”

“Always. It was great seeing you again. I know it hadn’t
been that long but it really was nice to catch up again.”

His words brought a smile to my face, and I pictured his
blue eyes crinkling at the corners with a grin. “So, are you going to give me any
clues?”

“Do you need a clue?” he taunted, and he knew he taunted. I
would have sworn I could hear his smirk through the line.

“Link, you know I need a clue. I’ve been racking my brain
since Friday trying to remember anything that might help. Why did you let me drink so many
shots?”

“Hey, you were having fun, we were all having fun. Who
was I to ruin anyone’s good time? And once you started you were all in. Then we were
dancing, and well it was a lot of fun.”

Oh god, he was right. It wasn’t unusual for us to all get
together before a holiday and have a few drinks, there was nothing that would make me not
go all in. “It was a lot of fun, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out.” I wanted to mention his
confession, and how he kissed me. But I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, and it felt like
something we should talk about in person.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for years,” he whispered, and I
would have sworn I could feel his breath on my neck.

“I think you said that the other night.” My own voice was
soft and breathy. I wasn’t sure exactly why, but the mood had changed, and I didn’t want
anything to break the spell his words had woven around us.

“Did I?” He played coy, something that was new between
us. But I found I was quite drawn to.

“You did, right before you kissed me.” He was quiet then.
Too quiet, and I checked the phone to be sure we were still connected. “Link?”

About the Author

BL Maxwell grew up in a
small town listening to her grandfather spin tales about his childhood. Later she became an
avid reader and after a certain vampire series she became obsessed with fanfiction. She
soon discovered Slash fanfiction and later discovered the MM genre and was hooked.

Author Links

Smart Link | Facebook Page

Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Safe Harbour” by Thom Collins. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Safe Harbour (Jagged Shores Book 2)

Author: Thom
Collins

Publisher: Pride
Publishing

Release Date: November 9,
2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance, Thriller and
suspense

Tropes. Small town, holiday/coastal romance

Themes: Divorce, fresh starts, jealousy

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 58 382 words/ 229
pages

It is the second book in a
linked series (Jagged Shores) but can be read alone.

It does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Sales
Link
|
Publisher | First For Romance

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AUS

Kobo | Barnes and
Noble

Two lovers seek shelter in
a storm of jealousy and passion

Blurb

Matt arrives in the seaside town of Nyemouth for a
much-needed vacation. As a successful lawyer, Matt has a hectic career, and with an
ex-husband still pestering him for money, he is long overdue a break. A holiday home
perched above the town and its breath-taking harbour seems like the perfect place to
unwind. Matt can’t wait to explore the beautiful, jagged shorelines and lose himself for a
couple of weeks.

Jake has made a home in Nyemouth. After growing up in
the city, living on the coast is everything to him. Running a business with his sister and
volunteering on the crew of the local lifeboat, he is exactly where he wants to be. But Jake’s
life is far from peaceful. Though he left his domineering husband Vince a year ago, Vince
refuses to consent to a divorce or loosen his controlling hold on Jake.

On Matt’s first night in town, he encounters the couple
having a blazing row. When Vince turns violent, Matt intervenes and takes Jake inside to
escape his angry ex. Despite what happened, Matt feels a powerful attraction to the
younger man. Jake is bright, endearing and unbelievably attractive, but the young man’s life
is complicated. Matt already has enough problems of his own. He came away looking for an
escape, not a starry-eyed distraction. As Matt and Jake get to know each other better, the
gamble on a holiday romance becomes hard for either of them to resist. They have both
been unlucky in love before. Maybe this time will be different.

Vince will not be shaken off so easily. He has no intention
of letting Jake go…ever. As Matt’s and Jake’s emotions deepen, they do not understand how
far Vince will take things to keep his husband. As far as Vince is concerned, they made a vow
to each other… “till death do us part.”

Excerpt

Matt opened the gate and approached Jake, who stood
watching as Vince walked away.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Jake’s skin was rosy, and his chest rose and fell dramatically.
His hands trembled.
Shock, Matt surmised. Jake turned to look at him. His eyes were wide,
the pupils huge. “Yes,” he said, out of breath, “I’m… I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“What?”

Matt pointed at his cheek. “Where he clocked you.”

“Oh.” He put his fingers to his face and looked at the blood
on the tips.

“Why don’t you come inside for a few minutes? I’ll get you
an Elastoplast for that.”

“No, I couldn’t. Sorry… We’ve caused you enough trouble
already.”

“Hey,” he said softly, “don’t apologise. I couldn’t ignore
what was happening. Come on in. You’re shaking, too. Take a seat until you get your breath
back. Give your buddy time to get away. I wouldn’t want you bumping into him at the
bottom of the road.”

Jake exhaled, and the tension left his neck and shoulders.
“If it’s no trouble, I could come in for a few minutes—just until things calm down.”

“Are you hurting anywhere else?” he asked, leading Jake to
the front door and inside. “From when you fell.”

“Only my pride,” he said. “If that counts.”

Matt smiled. “Nothing wrong with your sense of humour.”
He led Jake to the kitchen at the rear of the ground floor and sat him at the table. Matt
folded a piece of kitchen roll into a small square and gave it to Jake. “Press this tight against
the cut. There’s a first-aid kit in my suitcase. I won’t be a minute.”

“No need,” Jake said, pressing the paper towel against his
cheek. “This should be enough to stop the bleeding. It’s just a scratch. You’ve done more
than enough already. Thanks a lot.”

Being so close to him, Matt realised what a great-looking
guy Jake was, with those beautiful eyes and unblemished skin. His T-shirt was well-fitted,
showing the fine shape of his chest and shoulders beneath. His bare arms were muscular,

gently suntanned and covered in light-brown hair. Despite his serious expression, there were
very few lines on his face. Matt guessed his age to be around twenty-five.

“Do you want me to call the police?” he asked. “I got most
of what happened on camera—certainly, the assault part. With me as a witness and the
video evidence, they’ll have enough to charge him. It’ll get him out of your hair for the
weekend, at least.”

Jake shook his head. “I don’t want to involve the police. It
will only make things worse.”

“That guy assaulted you.”

“I’ll live. It’s just a scratch. If we phone the police, it will
only make Vince worse.”

Matt didn’t push it. He’d seen this so many times before
when victims of violence didn’t want to pursue a case for fear of inflaming the situation. “So,
who is that guy? Your boyfriend?”

Jake exhaled dramatically. “If only. That would make things
so much easier. No, Vince is my husband—soon-to-be ex-husband. At least I hope so. That’s
what tonight was all about. My solicitor wrote to him about the divorce and he got the letter
this morning.”

About the Author

Thom Collins is the author of
Closer by Morning, North
Point
and the Anthem Trilogy. His
love of page turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the
latest Jackie Collins book and confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy
novels.

Thom has lived in the North
East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County
Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially
bonk-busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too
many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out
new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but in
2013 he realized cruising is the best way to see the world.

Check out his website for news updates and a free ebook The Night.

Other links

Twitter:
@thomwolf
|
Instagram: thomcollinsauthor | Newsletter Sign-up

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Red’s Wolf” by Beth Laycock. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Red’s Wolf

Author: Beth
Laycock

Publisher: Rainbow Romance
Press

Cover Artist: Free To Be
Creative Co

Release Date: November 10,
2021

Genre: Paranormal romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, age gap, snowed-in together

Themes: Found family, learning to accept yourself

Heat Rating: 3 – 4 flames

Length: approx 28 000
words

It is the first book in a series
of standalone books/novellas and d
oes not end on
a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle
Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

A fairy-tale retelling
with a paranormal twist!

Blurb

Concerned for his gran’s health, Red braves the
snow-covered forest to ensure she’s safe in the worsening weather. After several encounters
over recent months, Red is both hoping to run into the huntsman again whilst also dreading
he might because he knows their friendship can’t lead to more, no matter how much he
wishes it might.

A glimpse of his huntsman distracts Red and he stumbles
away from the safety of the woodland path straight into the danger known as the wolf of
Bowland. Shaken, but unharmed, Red manages to escape to the safety of his gran’s cottage
to recover.

Despite Red’s reservations, the pair grow closer after they
end up snowed in together at the huntsman’s cabin, but can Aldrich help Red accept there is
nothing wrong with who he is? Or will Red let his secret and insecurities come between
them? Especially when he finds out his huntsman is hiding a secret of his own.

This M/M romance from Beth Laycock features friends
to lovers, an age gap, snowed-in together, shifters and witches, and of course a
HEA.

Excerpt

I stopped as I reached the twisted oak and drew in a deep
breath, and then slowly blew it out in a plume of white vapour. Hope warred with
trepidation. I didn’t know the man all that well, we’d met a handful of times over the last
few months in the woods to stop and talk, but I knew enough that I liked the man and
wanted to discover more about him.

And those encounters in the secluded woods had left me
wanting more. More glimpses of the toned body that was hinted at beneath his clothes.
More opportunities to listen to his lilting, almost musical voice as we chatted about
everything and nothing. More chances to lose my senses in his intoxicating musky scent with
that spicy hint of cinnamon.

And didn’t that just spell trouble with a capital T. Looking
forward to seeing the huntsman could only lead to heartache. I doubted one night with him
would be anywhere near enough. And I didn’t do relationships.
Couldn’t.

With a brush of my palm over the twisted oak’s trunk, I
veered off to the right and towards Gran’s. The hairs on the back of my neck lifted and as I
raised my gaze…there he was. As if thinking about him had conjured him out of thin air, and
I sucked in an icy breath.

Crouched in the distance, blurred by the snow that had
begun to fall again, but I’d have recognised him anywhere. I took a step towards him.
Adrenaline surged through my veins as excitement and anticipation spurred me closer. I
couldn’t drag my gaze off him as he reached out a hand to the snow.

What is he doing?

Too engrossed by the vision of the huntsman, I must have
wandered to the edge of the path because I stumbled over a small boulder hidden beneath
the blanket of snow. I cried out as I fell, throwing out my hands to break my fall and to try to
keep me on the path as my gran’s warnings rang out in my head.
Never leave the path, Red. It’s not safe in the woods if you’re not
on the path, that’s the only place I can protect you out there
.

But it was too late. As my elbow connected with the
ground, it was cushioned by the soft earth of the forest floor instead of hard stone. Pain
ripped through my body, and every bone ached as the curse took hold of me.

I rolled onto my side as my hands morphed into paws,
claws flicking out, and grey fur sprouting over every inch of my skin. My eyes shifted
position and my vision dimmed to only muted colours as my sense of hearing
heightened—the scuffle of some small animal scurrying away along a branch, the whisper of
the snow falling on the ground, the slow, deep breaths of the huntsman in the
distance—and my ears twitched.

My fangs dropped from my gums to replace my useless
regular teeth, and my nose lengthened into a snout as the smells of the forest overwhelmed
me. I could scent the huntsman even from this distance. And that tug I felt in my chest every
time I saw him intensified to the point I almost threw my head back and howled.

The cinnamon tang of him had saliva dripping from my
fangs, and I shuddered at the thought of sinking them into his warm, soft flesh. I shook my
head, trying to rid the idea from my mind as I scrambled to my paws, but I could almost feel
the give of his skin beneath my fangs as they sliced through him.

My wolf did not control me. I would not bite a human. My
heart throbbed at the thought, especially at the notion of harming the huntsman. It seemed
wrong somehow, even though it was in my wolf nature to kill, and I couldn’t deny that weird
urge—
bite, bite, bite—whenever I was around him.

The snap of a twig made me flinch. It was so loud and
brought my surroundings back into sharp focus. A glance over my shoulder confirmed my
worst fears. The huntsman was headed straight for me.

I bounded away in the other direction, dodging between
trees in the hope of shaking him off my trail. Of course, I didn’t. He was a huntsman and he
easily tracked my paw prints in the snow despite the fact he couldn’t match my
pace.

I circled back to where I’d stumbled off the path, crossing
over my original paw prints to throw him off my tail. My tongue lolled out despite the cold
nip in the air. I darted behind the twisted oak tree, my ears twitching as I listened for the
huntsman. Nothing.

I hung my head and drew in a breath. The big bad wolf
escapes his hunter.

About the Author

Beth Laycock’s books are
influenced by her time living overseas as well as the gritty, urban landscape of the north of
England where she grew up. She has been reading romance since she was old enough to tell
herself that line every book lover does—just one more chapter.

As a teenager, she attempted
to write her first novel, and many more since then are still gathering dust on her bookshelf.
It wasn’t until she discovered the M/M genre that her muse showed up and refused to quit
telling her stories about beautiful men finding love together. She hasn’t stopped scribbling
them down since. Beth’s muse usually shows up when she is in the shower, is allergic to
cleaning, rarely lets her watch TV, and insists she drinks copious amounts of coffee so she
can turn caffeine into words.

Beth’s books range from
sweet to sexy, long to short, contemporary to paranormal, but a HEA is always
guaranteed.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Genie in a Vodka Bottle” by Rob Rosen. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Genie in a Vodka Bottle

Author: Rob
Rosen

Publisher: JMS
Books

Release Date: November 6,
2021

Genre: Speculative M/M Romance, Mystery, Adventure

Tropes: Genie, Enemy to Friend, Magic

Themes: Searching for love, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 139 pages/56 000
words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play

A funny, frisky, and
frequently heart-pounding genie romance and adventure novel!

Blurb

Mysterious forces are at play when Paul’s vacation to Spain
unexpectedly detours to Gibraltar and then Morocco, to a vodka bottle in a hole in the wall
bar, to a handsome genie with a slew of secrets, plus almost limitless powers, virtually no
memory, and a keen desire to be freed from his curse. Along the way, Paul is reunited with
his ex-lover and the genie’s previous master as fate draws them ever deeper into a murky,
dangerous past.

On our heroes travel, from the frigid north of Russia to a
magic carpet ride across China, ultimately finding themselves in the deserts of ancient
Jordan. Here, they encounter another of the genie’s previous masters and a power far
greater than they could’ve ever imagined, all within a massive temple carved into a
mountainside. Can our intrepid foursome uncover the truth before the curse takes them all
and possibly the entire world down? Will love win out in the end? Or is the genie forever
doomed to a life foretold in fairy tales?

In this funny, frisky, and frequently heart-pounding
adventure, only one thing is for certain: magic can happen even without three
wishes.

Excerpt

The bottle was still in my hand. I reached for the cork. I
gave it a pull. It didn’t budge. I pulled again, harder this time. Nope, nothing. That cork
must’ve been in there a long, long time, I figured. I stood up, placed the bottle between my
knees, wiped the sweat from my palms and grabbed on tightly to the cork. Then, seeing as
where I was, grunted, “Open sesame,” and gave one final, massive yank.

POP went
the cork.

“Oh fuck,” went I.

I mean sure, the bottle was open, but, um, well, time was
suddenly standing still. Like totally still. Nothing was moving, not the fans, the waitress, not
Omar, who was pouring a drink that was suspended in midair. Though me, yeah, me I was
moving. Or least my heart was. Super-fast, in fact. Energizer Bunny fast.

“Oh fuck,” went I, yet again.

Because now the vodka bottle was pouring, only, it wasn’t
pouring vodka. And the pouring wasn’t obeying the laws of gravity because what was being
poured went out and up as opposed down and down some more. Plus, the vodka bottle

should have been pouring liquid but appeared to be pouring gas, a massive white cloud of it
tinged with swirls of various shades of blue and, if I wasn’t mistaken, which I wasn’t,
lightning. I mean, I knew lightning when I saw it, it’s just I’d never seen it being poured from
a vodka bottle before.

The cloud spread, the blue becoming purple, then red, then
all the colors of the rainbow at once. It looked like what you saw in an oil slick, greasy and
blending and bleeding. And then the room I was in was all cloud, and it was just me in the
cloud, me and the vodka bottle and the cloud of smoke and lightning and rainbow. The hairs
on my neck stood on end as I tried to take it all in, but how do you take in a cloud, especially
when it’s all around you, choking you, engulfing you completely as if it were a living,
breathing thing? And you could feel it, too. The power of it.

“Oh fuck,” went I for the third time. Because now I was not
alone in the cloud, and the eyes that had been staring back at me from the label on the
bottle were no longer on the bottle and were no longer the same eyes. And the face on the
bottle had a body, a different body, a new body, and the body was big, and the body was
torso on top and cloudy solidness down below, and the face was above mine, and the eyes
were staring down upon me, boring through me, piercing what felt like my very soul. Or
maybe that was me being a bit overdramatic, but how can you not be overdramatic at a
time such as that?

“Master,” boomed the voice that erupted forth from the
mouth in the face, the cloud all at once swept from the still-stagnant room. The half torso,
half solid cloud still floated above me, still churning in color and lightning and a slight
tremble of thunder that reminded me of our drive through Spain, me and Omar number
two.

“Paul,” I managed to squeak out.

The face tilted ever so slightly. “Paul? What is a Paul? I do
not know this word.” The voice again boomed, rattled my bones, shook the fillings in my
mouth. The voice was deep as the ocean, heavy as a boulder, pressing down upon me with
each vowel and syllable that was uttered.

“Paul,” I said, sitting back down in my chair. Or falling back
down in my chair. Probably the latter. “That is my name. Paul.”

The cloud-man craned down, the eyes barely a foot away.
“Paul,” came the voice in a whoosh that washed over me like a tidal wave, the exhale
smelling of spices and earth and incense. If you bottled it, it’d sell well. I had a bottle in
hand, but, like the room around me, I was sort of also frozen to the spot, and so bottling, at
least for the time being, seemed out of the question. “You have freed me, Master
Paul.”

I blinked. He did not. He had eyes the color of fresh moss,
skin the color of The Rock back in Gibraltar, perhaps a shade darker. He was shirtless, dense
with smooth muscle from chest to arms to hands to fingers. And despite the obvious power

of him, he looked young, my age, give or take. And as for the cloud below him, it swirled like
a cyclone, shooting off sparks as he hovered there. He was beautiful. He was fearsome. I
needed to pee. Badly.

About the Author

Rob Rosen is the author of
the award-winning novels
Sparkle: The Queerest Book You’ll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava,
Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort, Fate,
Midlife Crisis, Fierce, And God Belched, Mary, Queen of Scotch, Ted of the d’Urbervilles, Sort
of Dead,
and Genie in a Vodka Bottle, and editor of the anthologies Lust in
Time, Men of the Manor, Best Gay Erotica 2015,
and Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volumes
1, 2, 3
and 4.

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