AUDIOBOOK OUT NOW: “Tristan” by S. Legend

AUDIOBOOK OUT NOW

Book Title:
Tristan

Author: S.
Legend

Publisher: S Legend
Fiction

Narrator: Curtis
Michael

Release Date: November 24,
2021

Genre: Arranged Marriage M/M Romance, fantasy

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, age gap

Themes: Self-discovery, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 9 hours

It is not a standalone story.
Tristan is book one of the Tristan Trilogy.
The story
ends on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Audiobook Out Now

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Also available in Kindle Unlimited, Hardback
and Paperback

Amazon US | Amazon UK

An alliance forged through
marriage. The cost? One Man’s dream.

Blurb

An alliance forged through marriage. The cost? One Man’s dream.

Tristan dreams of the day he’ll succeed his father as the
next Warlord of Markaytia. Elves—creatures famous for their darker passions and
tantalizing culture—approach the Markaytian king with an offer he can’t refuse: an alliance
with the Elves for the one Tristan Kanes.

Tristan is forced to give up his dream.

He’s not thrilled, but Tristan is a man of duty above all else.
What choice does he have? He cannot refuse the king or Markaytia. He begrudgingly comes
to terms with the arranged marriage. Is he a tad sour about it? Yes, but he’ll get over it.

Probably.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. Elves have cool weapons,
maybe he’ll get one?

Corrik bans him from cool weapons.

Corrik’s seen Tristan’s gruesome death on the point of a
sword in a prophetic vision. He bans Tristan from picking up a sword ever again. Tristan
wants to accept the marriage with grace to make his people proud, but he resents Corrik for
his remorseless attitude over his life’s work.

Facing the Ice Prince and himself.

Tristan’s conflict follows him on the journey to the
mysterious Elven land of Mortouge. He hates Corrik for taking him from the life he loved,
boy does he, but his new Elven husband is an enigma and he’s captivated. He sets Tristan’s
blood on fire and freezes it at the same time. Corrik unravels Tristan’s true nature and
despite his best efforts, Tristan falls for his ice prince.

But Corrik won’t bend.

Corrik wants to be obeyed. He’s demanding and
possessive. He’s overbearingly protective.

Can these two find a suitable compromise? Or will Tristan’s
resentment and Corrik’s arrogance ruin forever their chance at love?

Tristan by Mock (S. Legend) is a gay romance fantasy featuring enemies-to-lovers vibes, an age
gap, arranged marriage, first times, and a happy ending (um, eventually). This is the first
action-adventure romance in the Tristan Trilogy. Mock may have written it down, but truly
it’s told by your lovable host, Tristan Kanes. He’s funny, sarcastic and while it may not seem
it at times, he’s the real person in charge of this story.

Excerpt

I remember the day I was called to the Great Hall alone, which set o all kinds of warning
bells. Lucca and I were attached at the hip then and were usually called to the Hall together.
In hindsight, I think it was because my uncle, King Amarail Kanes, knew Lucca would react
poorly when he heard the news.

I walked into the hall with my stomach already churning and when I saw that my father and
uncle were not alone, it plummeted like it had been shoved in ice-cold water.

That was when I saw him for the rst time.

The power of his features came from what wasn’t there, rather than from what was. The
man was devoid of imper‐ fections; not one thing about his face or his body hinted to a
deciency. There was no weakness in his impenetrable demeanor—the man was used to
winning and getting what he wanted. His cold purple eyes knew no warmth or sunshine and
sat as sentinels atop the high bridge of his patrician nose, complementing the supercilious
manner that surrounded him. Without a smile on his face, he looked cruel and stony. At the
same time, there was no darkness in him, whatsoever. Gold hair owed long over silver robes
that were open to reveal porcelain white skin; unmarred, and solid. The breezy, pretty robes
did nothing to diminish the restrained force of his chest and abdomen muscles—he seemed
to dominate the eeminate attire, as if he’d already defeated it. Not a body built for eldwork,
but for blood—war.

My cock stirred for him and made it impossible to deny that I was attracted to this ice

mountain of a man—I blushed. This was not the place I wanted to have an erec‐ tion. I
shifted my eyes away from the prince, down to my boots, placing my hands over my crotch.

“King Vilsarion, Prince Corrik. This is Tristan, my son,” Father introduced me.

“Welcome,” I said, giving a deep bow to each using the Markaytian etiquette Papa taught
me, then I took my place beside Papa.

“Tristan,” my uncle said. “We are honored to announce that we have reached an alliance
with Mortouge.”

I smiled my best smile. Absolutely, bloody fantastic! The Elves didn’t align themselves with
just anyone and knowing what I knew of the recent unrest in the Northeastern Plains, since
we helped them a while back, I knew it was best to have as many strong alliances as
possible, if the Kanes were to maintain our hold of Dragon’s Rock. For the rst time in
millennia, we had to take extra measures to protect Markaytia’s crown city.

“That is excellent, Sire.” I turned to the Elven king. “I’ve been named as successor to my
father at my coming-of- age ceremony, and as future Warlord, I will look forward to dealings
with your Warlord. We Markaytians could learn from your teachings. I’ve read much about
your weapons—I know you forge the best ones,” I gushed.

I wage for peace, but war is inevitable and the prospect of ghting alongside an Elf was
exciting. All I knew of Elves at the time was of their weapons and great wars. I had little
interest in their other qualities. The Elves are a beautiful, mysterious race, but I didn’t see
much use getting involved in their politics or anything else about them since they were also
a private race who didn’t often allow outsiders into their grand kingdom.

I didn’t expect the Elven king to frown at my words. The smile on his face lit up the room
before, and especially standing next to his grouchy-looking son, the contrast was far
reaching. I turned to look at Papa, confused, and he took a sharp breath, ready to cry. Father
stepped between us; his dark eyes pinned me in place.

Uncle continued. “The alliance will be sealed with a marriage, Tristan. You to Prince Corrik.”

The displeasure must have been plain on my face, though I tried for the life of me to hide it.

About the Author

Some of you know her as
Mock, others as S. Legend, or Miss S. She welcomes all names but will often go by Mock, a
name given to her by her readers.

Mock is an ambitious
creative, weaving the most precious aspects of her soul into stories. She is an architect,
building fascinating worlds, designed from inquiry, rooted in worldly wonderings. It’s an
intuitive process where she is the scribe, the translator, the conduit.

It helped that storytelling was
the language spoken at home. One simply didn’t say, “We have an ant infestation. ” In
Mock’s family it was, “I was on my way to the living room, when a peculiar ant crossed my
path. I looked to my right, a suspicious line of them marched toward the pantry. In that
moment I knew; my kitchen was under siege.” The natural flow of conversation always took
this form.

And so.

When Mock wrote her first
novel, she didn’t plan it chapter by chapter, there was no outline, no “plotting” to speak of.
But she didn’t “pants” it either, she didn’t make it up as she went along. She knew how the
story felt, where it curved in places and hollowed in others; she knew the destination it
rushed toward. Instead of orchestrating, she let the world inspire her, and held space for
the words to come, trusting the characters knew what they were doing. All she had to do
was tell a story, as she always had done; like breathing.

This is her peace, her healing
and solace: Gifts better shared.

Mock’s works are the comfort
you seek when you need to come home. Her unique writing style will take you, wayfaring
reader, to unexpected destinations.

She always says, “I’m not in
the business of making up stories, I couldn’t if I tried. I’m lucky enough to get picked to
share someone else’s story when I ask a question to the universe. Someone answers; I write
it down.”

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter |
Instagram

Newsletter Sign-up: Can
either sign up at the website or email

Pinterest | BookBub

About the Narrator

Curtis Michael is a worldly
creative and proud member of the LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities. Having traveled and
taught drama overseas for upwards of the past decade, he has somewhat recently taken up
voice acting and narration. You’ll hear some of the flavourings of his experience in the
Tristan audiobook, as the characters are wildly inspired from not only the world of Tristan,
but also Curtis’ different cultural encounters. With two dogs, two cats and a Corrik of his
own, Curtis currently resides in Southeast Asia. He can be found on the many beaches or

secluded in his vocal booth poring over juicy stories at every chance he gets.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Freezing Aversion” by B.L. Maxwell. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Freezing Aversion

Author: BL
Maxwell

Publisher and Cover Artist: BL
Maxwell

Release Date: December 29,
2021

Genre: Paranormal M/M
Romance

Tropes: Fated Mates, Forced
Proximity, Paranormal Romance, Vampire Thriller, Vampire Hunter

Themes: Found mate,
Vampire Romance, Newborn Vampire, Trapped by snow

Heat Rating: 2
flames

Length: 50 000
words

It’s the second book in the
Consortium Series but it is a standalone story.

It does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Goodreads


Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

A Tracker who can find anyone except the mate he’s
always craved.

Blurb

Benjamin Coulton is a tracker employed by the Consortium, the ruling counsel of vampires.

When he’s sent to investigate a rogue vampire killing indiscriminately in a remote region of
Alaska. Bad weather hampers his effort and he loses the vampire he’s been tasked to find.

Leon Davis and his friend Brian agreed to be winter caretakers for several cabins and a
fishing lodge, thinking it would be easy money. They settle into their daily routine of
checking the cabins for animal break-ins, or broken water pipes, and prepare for a long
winter.

Until a run in with a vampire changes everything. Ben finds a newly turned vampire left for
dead by the rogue vampire, and suddenly Ben’s mission changes course. In the freezing
wilderness of Alaska, he uncovers more truths and the mate he’d always longed for… and
now the killer vampire is tracking them.

MM Paranormal Romance.

Excerpt

Letting my senses guide me, I came upon a small grouping of cabins that surrounded a lake,
just like the sign promised. It was so far removed from where I’d turned off the main road
that I couldn’t believe there could be a human out here. But there was.

I was slammed from behind and tumbled toward the ground but managed to land on my
feet before spinning to face whatever had attacked me.

Before me crouched a vampire who appeared to have been feeding to the point of being
blood crazed. He had no control over his instincts at this point and was consumed with the
need to feed, and by the way he bared his teeth at me, he didn’t know any better than to try
to feed on me. His face was partially hidden from view by the hood of his jacket,
and what looked like a stocking hat pulled down low.

“Stand down, vampire, or I will end you.” I readied for his attack that I knew would come. He
was far past caring about consequences and believe me, there would be consequences.

He snarled and attacked; grabbing my hair and running up the trunk of a tree, he ripped my
head back. Twisting around, I tore myself from his grip and stood on his back as I pressed
him into the snow.

“Get off me or you will die.” He fought, even though he knew he would not win. The
madness that overtook him left him unreasonable to a point he would not be saved, and I
grunted as he heaved me off him and against a tree.

He was up in a flash charging at me again. “Must feed,” he screamed, his hands curled into

claws as he charged. I spun as he reached me and pulled the knife from my waistband.
Though it only left him off balance for a split-second, it was enough to give me the
advantage. When he attacked again, I spun the knife and plunged it into his heart. It wasn’t
enough to destroy him, but it would injure him.

He screamed in pain before running off into the woods. Fuck, why did it always have to be
so hard?

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: “His Boy to Cherish” by Colette Davison. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: His Boy to Cherish (Naughty or Nice Season Two)

Author: Colette
Davison

Publisher: Independently
Published

Cover Artist: Colette
Davison

Release Date: December 28, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Daddy kink, age-gap, age-play, light ABDL,
hurt/comfort

Themes: Letting go, trusting in others, it’s okay to not be
okay.

Heat Rating: 4
flames

Length: 88 644
words

It is a standalone story, but
some of the characters appeared in Greeking Out (Destination Daddies).
The story does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal
Link
|
Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

Dear Santa,

I’m going to be upfront and tell you that I feel silly doing
this, but here goes nothing!

I’ve realised that I lean more towards being a Daddy, than a
strict Dom. I’m kind and caring, and I want someone to spoil. I’ll always put my boy’s needs
before my own. I’ll take care of him in every way he needs me to. I’ll discover what he
wants, how to make him smile, laugh, and moan

As for what I’m looking for in a boy… I’d like someone who
wants to feel special, and who enjoys being held by his Daddy. If I had to choose between a
naughty or nice boy, I think I’d choose nice. I can put a naughty boy through boot camp, but
I’d much rather praise a good boy.

What I really want, Santa, is someone to cherish this
Christmas. I hope that’s not too much to ask for.

Sincerely,

ExCombatDaddy

His Boy to Cherish is an M/M winter romance with a disabled first-time Daddy, a little who loves
stuffies, a twelve-year age-gap, nappies, a loud-mouth best friend, some familiar faces, and
a lot of feels.

His Boy to Cherish is part of the Naughty or Nice Season
Two
multi-author series. Each book can be read
as a standalone, but there are so many Daddies looking for some holiday magic to bring
them their perfect boys, why not grab them all?

Excerpt

“Do you want to come in?” I asked.

“Not tonight.”

I must have looked disappointed because he cupped my cheek in his hand and smiled at me

warmly.

“I had a really good evening, little bird. I’d like to see you again.”

“You would? Really?” There I went, sounding like a desperate idiot.

He chuckled. “Really. But you need to know that I’ve only just realised I’m a Daddy. The
caring and nurturing aspects of being a Daddy Dom appeal to me far more than bondage
and impact play. I’ve done those things at a club, but I like cuddling and taking care of the
man I’m with.”

“I got that from your letter.”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’ve never been a Daddy to a little before.”

I should have known this was coming. He’d said he wanted to see me again, but maybe he
was going to ask me to agree not to be little when we were together.

He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “I like you, little bird. Can you be patient with me
while I learn how to be the Daddy you deserve?”

My eyes grew wide as saucers. “I…” Had he said what I thought he had?

“I’ll let you think about it,” he said. “I’ll message you tomorrow if that’s okay?”

I nodded. My head was spinning. He leant close, his lips pressing to mine ever so softly.
When I didn’t pull away, he increased the pressure of the kiss. His thumb brushed my cheek,
and his fingers stroked my neck. His kiss was tender and sweet, and it turned my legs to jelly.

“Good night, little bird,” he said before kissing my forehead. “Hopefully, I’ll see you again
soon.”

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

BookBub | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram:
@colettedavison

Mailing List | Newsletter Sign-Up

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RELEASE BLITZ: ” T.A.G. You’re Found” by D.G. Carothers. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: T.A.G. You’re Found

Author: D.G.
Carothers

Cover Artist: Amai Designs,
Samantha Santana

Release Date: December 21,
2021

Genre: Action Adventure, Contemporary, Interracial Romance and
Mystery/Suspense

Tropes: Badass Heroes, Tricked into Blind Dates, Half Serious/Half Cheesy
Action Flick, Revenge Twist

Themes: Mafia v. Secret Organization, Assassin v. Assassin, Car Chase
Dates, Meddlesome Family, What happens in Vegas…

Heat Rating: 3
flames

Length: approx. 50 000
words

It is not a standalone story.

The Assassins’ Guild is a continuous series and must be
read in order.

T.A.G. You’re
Seen

T.A.G. You’re
Heard

T.A.G. Family
Christmas

T.A.G. You’re
Found

This book does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal link |
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BookFunnel

Are you ready for another
thrilling T.A.G. adventure?

Blurb

Agent code name Mr. Ti takes the lead in Operation
Cyberlick. (Note to self: Stop letting Connor name the operations)

Mr. Ti is hot on the trail of the Poacher, having finally
discovered his identity. A trap is laid, but will it get sprung?

Follow Mr. Ti as he hunts down his prey. But who is hunting
whom? And will love smack Mr. Ti in the butt face?

Find out this and more exciting answers to questions
lurking in the depths of your mind in this next archive from The Assassins’ Guild.

Attention: There is explicit language, violence, and
sexual content suitable only for mature audiences. Who are we kidding? Only on bad days
are we more mature than teenagers.

Excerpt – Nicola POV

I took the chair across from the slender, silver-haired older man with an uneasy smile.
“Good evening, Zio.”

“Nicola, you’re looking,” he scrutinized my appearance especially considering I had worn
jeans compared to his thousands of dollars bespoke suit, “underfed.” He waved at someone
behind me, and a bowl of the same soup Don Athos was eating appeared before me.

“Thank you, Zio.” Now that the food was in front of me, I realized I was famished. I didn’t
remember if I had eaten today. I picked up a spoon and took a bite of the hearty vegetable
soup.

“Your mother is worried about you.”

I snorted and finished my mouthful before speaking. “My mother is only worried about the

money I send her.” My mother wasn’t Don Athos’s sister, but our family had worked for the
Stagliano family for many generations. I grew up at the country estate with my brother and
cousins, calling Don Athos uncle.

“Don’t disrespect your mother, boy.” Despite Don Athos nearing seventy, he was still a
formidable man and not one to trifle with even if you didn’t know he was one of the most
powerful men in the world.

“I’m sorry, Zio.” I looked intently at my soup and took another bite. “Is she well?” I asked
after the silence continued.

“She is fine, just worried about her only remaining son.” He paused again. I was sure for
dramatic effect. There must be a school people like the capi went to that taught you how to
look intimidating when speaking and how to make grandiose speeches. “She tells me that
you took another trip out of the country.”

I nodded in confirmation because it was pointless to deny it. If he was coming to me with
this, he already knew where I was. I tore a piece of bread off the loaf on the table and
dipped it into the remaining bits of soup.

“I have told you to stop looking into the bombing. It is done and over. Nothing will come of
continuing down this road.” Don Athos’s voice softened. “Nico, I know you loved your
brother, and I am saddened by his loss as well as the loss of my son, may God rest their
souls, but he wouldn’t want you to continue on this way. He’d want you to finish school and
start your life the way you should have.”

“Zio, I’m so close to finding him. I finally know who bombed the hotel. And if I can just locate
them.” I leaned forward in my seat. I refused to believe that Enzo was dead. I couldn’t,
wouldn’t believe it until I heard it from the horse’s mouth.

“Stupido, do you think we don’t know who did it?” Don Athos whisper-yelled to not draw
more attention to our discussion. “Of course, we know.”

“Then why haven’t you asked The Assassins’ Guild about the abnormality in the account
about my brother or who hired them in the first place?” I tried to restrain myself from
raising my voice as I boldly called out the organization’s name that was only whispered of
like the Boogieman.

“You don’t understand, boy. You don’t just ask The Assassins’ Guild questions, and you never
ask who hired them. It’s a fool’s errand.” If I didn’t know him better, I’d say that he looked
scared just talking about them.

About the Author

D.G. Carothers is actually a dragon very cleverly disguised as a
human. They are a non-binary author of LGBTQIA Romance and Urban Fantasy, who enjoys
writing original and entertaining stories. They are very excited to share the worlds they’ve
created with you.

D.G. currently lives in
Tennessee with their platonic life partner, who is not a dragon. They yearn to live back in
Europe and will some day. In their spare time they are addicted to losing themselves in the
lovely worlds created by other authors


D.G. is committed to writing the stories they see in
their head without restrictions. Love is blind and doesn’t see gender, race, or
sexuality.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Twitter

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all three previous
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BOOK BLAST: “A Quick Buck” by K.L. Hiers.

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: A Quick Buck

Author: K.L.
Hiers

Publisher: Stormy Night
Publications

Release Date:
11/19/2021

Genre/s: Contemporary MM Mafia Romance

Trope/s: Daddy Kink, May/December, Silver Fox, Rich Boy Needs Love

Themes: Love and Power, Lust Before Love, Revenge

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 108 000 words/503
pages

This is a standalone story. It
is
a spin-off from the Cold Hard Cash series, but the
other books do not need to be read in order to enjoy this one.

It does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

Alistair Star didn’t come to Noah Allan’s house looking for a
boy in need of a hard spanking from a man who knows how to give one. Noah was just
meant to be kept as collateral until his uncle could be tracked down. But when the
twenty-two-year-old trust fund brat gets mouthy, Alistair decides it’s long past time
someone took off his belt and put him very firmly in his place.


Noah may be used to buying whatever he wants
and doing as he pleases, but he wouldn’t call himself spoiled. Unfortunately for him, the
dangerous, infuriatingly handsome mob boss holding him prisoner disagrees, and Alistair
doesn’t just plan to teach Noah a shameful lesson that will leave him sore, sorry, and
desperately aroused. He’s going to give Noah exactly what he needs…


A daddy.

Publisher’s Note: A Quick Buck
includes spankings and rough, intense sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please
don’t buy this book.

Excerpt

“You are an exceptionally rude young man.” Alistair rose
from the piano.

“Says the fuckin’ geezer who’s kidnapping me in my own
house!” Noah growled. “Wow. Fuckin’ dementia settin’ in, Gramps? Do you understand how
crazy you sound?”

“I do believe it’s time for that lesson in manners.” Alistair
slid his belt from his pants, folding it in half and lightly patting it against his palm.

Noah froze, staring stupidly at the belt. He was so stunned
by the clear implication that he laughed.

“I’m going to take you and put you over my knee,” Alistair
said sternly. “I’m going to spank you with this belt until I hear a very sincere apology
followed by absolute and total silence. While we’re staying here, I am going to expect you to
be a model guest. Obedient, quiet, and dare I even say grateful. Do you understand, dear
Noah?”

“You?” Noah laughed again. “You’re going to spank
me?”

“Unless you’d like to apologize right now?”

“Ha!” Noah stood up straight and tall, towering over Alistair
as he taunted, “I’d love to see you fuckin’ try it, old man.”

“Very well.”

In the space of a blink, Alistair grabbed Noah’s arm and
twisted it into his back, dragging him over his knee as he sat down on the bench. It
happened so quickly that Noah didn’t have enough time to register the pain until the belt
cracked over his ass for the first time.

“Oh, fuck!” Noah tried to kick away, but the pressure on his
arm in Alistair’s iron grip made a compelling argument to stay as he was. His ass felt like it
had been branded where the belt had struck, and he hissed angrily. Even through his jeans,
it hurt like hell. “Oh, wow, yeah, fuck you.”

“That didn’t sound like an apology, dear Noah,” Alistair
chided.

“How about you take that ‘dear Noah’ and shove it up
your—oh, fuck!” Noah cried out as the belt hit him again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, that sort of language will simply not do.” The
buckle clinked as Alistair set the belt aside, and he reached around Noah’s hips to grab at
the front of his jeans. “A strong-willed boy such as yourself usually requires additional
motivation.”

“Hey! Stop!” Noah squirmed as Alistair undid the button
and opened up the fly of his jeans in one swift jerk. A rage like he’d never known filled him
when Alistair grabbed the seat of his jeans and pulled them down with his underwear, just
enough to expose his ass to the entire room. “Oh, fuck you!”

“Now.” Alistair had the belt again, and he lightly dragged it
over Noah’s bare cheeks. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

Noah tried bucking away, but he couldn’t get out of
Alistair’s iron hold. He was furious from being stripped and humiliated like this, and he
refused to comply. “Go fuckin’ die in a fire. A really big fuckin’ fire.”

“You still have plenty of time to apologize.”

“Yeah? But you sure don’t. Bein’ all old and shit. Might
have a heart attack and drop dead right—agh, shit! Shit!” The pain from the belt against his

bare skin was new, burning white hot, and Noah couldn’t explain the overwhelming rush
coming over him.

Definitely didn’t have an explanation for his hard
dick.

There was no way to hide it from Alistair, considering it was
digging into his thigh, and Noah ducked his head, embarrassed and furious he couldn’t
escape. For some reason, being held down was only making him harder, and the vicious
cycle of shame and anger kept right on fueling his persistent erection.

“Why, Noah.” Alistair chuckled low. His voice dropped to a
sultry tone, whispering as if they were lovers as he said, “I’m not sure I should continue your
punishment under these circumstances. Would you like to apologize yet?”

“Eat… a dick,” Noah panted, refusing to acknowledge how
all the little hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood up from the way Alistair
spoke.

“Mm, I take it that’s a ‘no’?”

“You’re… a fuckin… genius…”

“Well.” Alistair clicked his tongue, the leather creaking as
he raised the belt back up. “I can already see you’re going to be quite a handful.”

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea, you stupid—ow,
fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!”

This was going to be a very, very long day.

And he still hadn’t gotten that shower.

Fuck.

About the Author

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an
embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral
service, they worked in the death industry for nearly a decade. Their first love was always
telling stories, and they have been writing for over twenty years, penning their very first
book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty
notebooks, however, but they never gave up.

Following the success of their
first novel,
Cold Hard Cash, they now enjoy writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales
of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. They love attending horror movie

conventions and indulging in cosplay of their favorite characters. They live in Zebulon, NC,
with their husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only
pretend to because they think it’s cute.

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram

Twitter | Newsletter Sign-up | Patreon

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Soul of the Imperian” by Jessamyn Kingley.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26)

Author: Jessamyn
Kingley

Publisher:
Self-published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of
Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: December 9,
2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, fated mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 96 664
words

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

Check out the D’vaire Series
on Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle
Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Demons are expected to
hate the Imperian, but what if he’s your mate?

Blurb

Praetor Sashati Soriandras is adjusting to his wonderful
new life as part of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. His new leader’s choice to leave the
demonic realm gained Sashati’s immediate approval. There is nothing there but dark

memories and a horrible legend about the butcher who ripped magic from the demons a
millennium ago.

After being banished to a tiny realm, Imperian
Paszratorabiel—or Paszra, as he prefers to be called—is waiting for his wings to grow back.
The minute he recovers, Paszra hunts for a place to bring his family so they can find mates.
When Paszra finds a planet full of interesting beings, the presence of demons is the only
thing he hates about his potential new home.

When Sashati and Paszra meet, neither man is happy to
learn they are mates. The demons blame Paszra for everything, while the Imperian despises
Sashati’s people. However, they share a tradition of not denying Fate. But to honor the way
their souls are connected, Paszra and Sashati must overcome much more than their initial
dislike of each other.

Excerpt

After they arrived in their office space, Sashati sprawled in
his office chair and opened the book Arch Lich Chander Daray had suggested would further
his education on the Council.

“Reading again?” Diyarta asked. Once forced into teaching,
Diyarta had left that life behind her for good. Her preference was to be in a gym sweating
rather than burying her nose in between pages.

“I’m an advisor to our leader. I cannot function in that role
if I don’t fully understand the Council.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m failing in my role as advisor?”
Diyarta asked.

“I believe we have different strengths. You have the ear of
the demons. You can advise Hexaniys on how to improve their lives. They are strangers to
me and him. In our former realm and here in the Council, advisors have areas of expertise. If
we were to study the same thing, our voices would be redundant.”

“You were so wasted as a guard in that palace,” Diyarta
remarked.

“As long as I never have to return to such a role, I will have
no complaints.”

“The same cannot be said for our people. You want to be
an expert on the Council, but you cannot forget your place. Hexaniys lives with the Darays
because he is one now. You are not. Hexaniys is safe surrounded by sentinels.”

“So are the demons,” Sashati replied. “They live in the
Daray Sentinel Complex.”

“It is a temporary home, or at least it was supposed to be, I
believed. They want to embrace being demons, not be forced into training and the things
that sentinels love simply because the Imperator is mated to one.”

“No one has asked them to train. I do it because I like
it.”

“As do I,” Diyarta said.

“One reason the complex suits them is because of the
many classes the sentinels offer in the evenings and on weekends. It was supposed to be an
avenue for the demons to learn about the Council and to find something to give their lives
purpose. Instead, they shop and rest in their apartments. They will go to restaurants for
meals but not to the sentinels’ cafeteria.”

“I told you, they fear being lumped in with the
sentinels.”

“They must find hobbies at the very least,” Sashati
replied.

“They are recovering from the atrocities they’ve
endured.”

“Diyarta, they refuse to even explain what happened while
we were here at the behest of Masal’akra. How are we to help them if they will not discuss
the war?”

“Perhaps when the wounds are not so fresh, they’ll be
more forthcoming.”

“It has been many weeks,” Sashati said.

“They worry about you living with Hexaniys among the
sentinel leadership.”

It was a cause of disagreement that had slowly grown
between Sashati and Diyarta. The demons supposedly wanted Sashati to live among them,
but Hexaniys and the Darays had offered bedrooms to Sashati and Diyarta. His fellow
praetor had refused the invitation and gone to the Daray Sentinel Complex.

Sashati was torn between the two places and didn’t know if
he was right to stay near Hexaniys, but the demon refused to be dictated to by anyone. That
was a life they’d left behind, and the new Imperator gave them plenty of space to make
decisions for themselves. The problem, as far as Sashati could see it, was that the demons

wanted to do nothing. They spent money and complained to Diyarta instead of exploring
the Council.

“The guards of other leaders often elect to share homes or
land with them,” Sashati said.

“Demons must find their own path.”

“I’m entitled to do what I choose.”

“Just don’t forget that you’re a demon.”

“How could I ever do that?” Sashati asked.

“It’s easy to get swept away into this world of sorcery and
shifters, even though we differ from the others in this world. Our power is lost, and we must
never forget how that came to be or that there is no ability to regain it.”

“My hatred for the Imperian burns as brightly as it has
since the first time I heard his name,” Sashati growled. The Imperian inspired rage in him like
nothing else could, and he doubted any demon lamented the loss of their magic more than
Sashati. There was so much of it around them, and it pissed Sashati off to think that if it
weren’t for a single man, he’d be casting spells alongside his new allies.

“I wish I had been alive in those days. I would’ve slit his
throat myself.”

“Get in line, Diyarta,” Sashati retorted.

About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley lives in
Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she
dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in
love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute
favorite.

Jessamyn is married and
working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent
of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and
gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is
only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

Visit her website

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

Social Media Links

Facebook | Twitter |
Pinterest | Facebook

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Blessings and Miracles” by H.M. Wolfe. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Blessings
and Miracles (Full Circle Christmas Edition)

Author: H.M.
Wolfe

Publisher:
Self-Published

Cover Artist: A.M.
Snead

Release Date: December 9,
2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Second chance, found family, insta-love

Themes: Christmas wedding, family reunion, supportive family, Christmas
party, marital bliss

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 56 000
words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle
Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

It is that time of the
year again…

Blurb

It is that time of the year again…

With her niece Willa and her nephews’ Sebastian
and Fabian’s life partner Vincent and husband Lance as trusted kitchen helpers, Zoe Stark
throws another epic Christmas party at the family mansion near Hartford, Connecticut. All
the members of the Stark and Bloom clans are going to be present, and there are a lot of
achievements and happy events to celebrate.


Zane Parsons, a young widower, drives all the way
to Orlando, Florida, to Connecticut, to honor the promise he made his grandmother on her
deathbed. He is torn between hoping for a new life for him and his only child and the fear of
being rejected. Zane strongly believes in Christmas miracles, but will he experience one,
too?


After being separated from the only man he ever
loved for more than thirty years, Rhett Randall gathers his courage and drives to his
ex-husband family’s mansion to talk to him for what could be the last time. It could be a
total disaster, but it could also be one of those magic moments associated with
Christmas.


The Christmas carols mix with the pitty-pat sound
of little children’s feet and their happy giggles in this gay romance novel about blessings,
miracles and the power of love in its many forms

Excerpt

“We won’t be ready on time,” Zoe Stark lamented in the middle of the Connecticut
mansion’s spacious kitchen. “All my nephews and nieces coming to visit me will starve on
Christmas Day because the deli’s delivery service takes forever,” she continued in a
desperate tone.

“Nana Zoe, calm down, please, everything will be all right,” Ava, the woman’s
granddaughter, spoke in a soft but confident voice. “If the deli fails to deliver the order, we
have Dunstan, Leon, and the others who can take care of the problem in the blink of an eye.

“Yes, Nana, listen to my wise little sister and try to relax a bit. All this agitation won’t do any
good for your blood pressure. On the contrary,” Rayne intervened, taking his grandmother’s
hands between his own.

“How can you be so calm, child? Your son comes home after spending a year abroad, he’s
going to ask Claran to marry him, and you are telling me to relax? What will Gerrard think
about his Nana when he and his fiancé sit at an empty table on Christmas Day?” Zoe shook
her head, sighing dramatically.

“Nana, I don’t think Gerrard and Claran will get engaged this Christmas,” Rayne calmly
spoke. “I know my son, and he would have told me had he intended to propose to his
boyfriend. We don’t keep anything secret from each other,” the man said in a confident
voice.

Zoe let out another sigh, suddenly saddened. “And I was thinking that… Anyway,” the
woman continued in a livelier voice, “engagement party or not, there is still the problem of
the Christmas dinner. The menu I chose for this year is very special to me, but, in the
absence of the meats and ingredients…”

“Auntie, everything is fine,” Willa, Zoe’s niece, who just ended the phone call she was
engaged in, said “I talked to the people at the deli store, and the delivery truck is on its way.
With all the ice on the road, they had to slow down a bit and…”

“Enough talking. Let’s get to work.” Zoe clapped her hands, bouncing back to her usual
organized and commanding self. “Where is Lance when you need him the most?”

“He’s in the dining room with Vincent and Joraan waiting for you to tell them what to do,”
Willa answered, amused by her aunt’s sudden change of attitude.

“Call them. I have work for them until the delivery truck arrives. Young man, what are you
doing in my kitchen? I don’t remember me taking over your office at the Van der Meerwe
Institute, so please, go away and let me do what I know best.” Zoe shooed Rayne with a
gesture of her hand.

“Yeah, sure, no one orders the others around like you do,” Alastair’s second-born muttered
under his breath as he left the kitchen.

Rayne headed to the mini-apartment he and his three life partners occupied in the other
wing of the mansion, plopping on the four-post, king-size bed. Seymour and Sagan, two of
his lovers, were helping Ardan with the Christmas party for The Base’s residents, while
Doctor Ross Brentano-Tavernier, the third man in Rayne’s life, was giving the last instructions
to the volunteers working on the sanctuary’s clinic.

Rowena. So, this was her older brother Willard who loved her and her twin sister very much
but couldn’t see them as often as he wanted. Kane mentally facepalmed himself for not
figuring things out earlier. The poor redhead must have been involved with some asshole
who controlled his life and, most likely, abused him in the worst of ways.

“Well, most likely Uncle Alastair gave them a map with the best hiding places,” Sebastian
tried a joke in an attempt to make the atmosphere less tense.

“It’s a possibility I never considered,” Willard replied, his voice a bit livelier than earlier. “I
have nothing against the girls playing all day long, but, when great-uncle Alastair and
Mallory are away, Morwena and Rowena are my responsibility, and I wouldn’t want to lose
their trust.”

“Older brother, you couldn’t find me! I won again!” Rowena hugged Willard, looking up at
him and giggling happily. “I’m the champion, yay!” She did a little victory dance.

“Yes you are, indeed. But don’t forget about your good manners,” Willard said in a soft
voice. “We have guests.” He discreetly gestured to Ian, Warrick, and Kane who were about
to climb the stairs to the main entrance with Sebastian and Vincent as guides.

“Hi, Ian, I’m so happy Warrick brought you with him. The girls’ team needs a big, strong man
like you to help us build a taller snowman.” Rowena cutely grinned. “Your friend Kane is a
gentleman. He let me hide in your car and didn’t rat me out to brother Willard.”

“And voilá!” Ian exclaimed, making great efforts not to burst into a wild fit of laughter. “The
explanation of your mysterious absence from earlier. A couple more clever maneuvers like
this one, and you’ll be in the top position for the kiddies’ preferences.”

“My older brother Fabian won’t be happy about it, and neither will Ardan.” Sebastian
grinned. “Trust me, kid, if you managed to be in Princess Rowena’s good graces in such a
short time, all the others will be at your feet in no time.”

“Run, it’s a trap.” Willard feigned panic. “The shorties will pretend to worship you, but
before you know it, they’ll turn you into their slave. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about,
been there, done that.” Adoration, affection, and warmth mixing in his emerald-green eyes,
Willard picked Rowena up and kissed her on both cheeks. “But you can’t stop loving them.”

“Let’s get inside. You young folks are not affected by this bitter cold, I see, but my old bones
are freezing.” Vincent shivered dramatically, making Warrick, Ian, and even Sebastian smirk.

“Go ahead. I think I’ll stay for a while longer,” Kane said, looking at Willard from the corner
of his eye. “I want to get to know the rest of the…um…shorties,” he continued, blushing a
light shade of pink.

“As you wish, but I wouldn’t advise you to go there unprepared. Listen to Willard; he’s an
invaluable source of advice on how to avoid the kiddies’ traps.” Ian benevolently smiled,
disappearing into the mansion.

“I’m sure I have a lot to learn from him”—Kane offered the redhead a shy smile—“if he
wants to share, that is. I don’t want to become an inconvenience,” he added in a hesitant
voice.

“Brother Willard is alone and sad,” Rowena suddenly spoke in a small voice. “Don’t you want
to be his boyfriend? He’s always good, but Santa never has any presents for him.” She
wrapped her arms around the redhead’s neck.

“Rowena Stark, that was…this is not how things go.” Willard hugged the little girl, then put
her down. ”It’s…it takes time and…relationships are complicated. You’ll understand this
when you grow up.”

“I just remembered I have important things to do.” Rowena ignored the redhead, grinning
cutely. “I’ll leave the two of you to talk.”

“I apologize for my little sister’s behavior. This is not her usual self, she’s…I guess it’s my
fault.” Willard lowered his head.

“I love children very much,” Kane gently spoke, “and I saw you do, too. I’m sure we have
other things in common, as well, and I’m looking forward to discovering them.”

There must have been something in the air that morning that affected people, making them
act differently than usual. From an impulse he couldn’t explain, Kane touched Willard’s hand
with the tips of his fingers, then took it in his. The redhead stared down but didn’t shy away
from the touch, the deep intimacy of the skin-on-skin contact making his heart beat a little
faster.

Kane could sense that Willard Stark had a lot of wounds that went deep down into his soul,
and he kept many painful secrets to himself. However, the redhead was a special man, and
Kane was willing to wait for as long as it would take for Willard to open up to him. Maybe
the two of them were brought together for a reason. Maybe the Christmas magic really
existed. Kane smiled at the thought.

About the Author

H.M. lives with the coolest
Mom in the Universe and a fat, gay, submissive tomcat. She loves writing stories about boys
and men who love, cherish, respect and protect other boys and men.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website |

Facebook | Twitter

Goodreads | BookBub

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BLOG TOUR: “Dark Fate” by Kat Silver. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Dark
Fate:
An MM urban fantasy romance
(Flame Born Book 2)

Author: Kat
Silver

Publisher: Kat
Silver

Cover Artist:
Bookfly

Release Date: November 12,
2021

Genres: Urban fantasy romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers

Themes: Self-discovery and
empowerment, finding home, freedom, good vs evil

Heat Rating: 4
flames

Length: 117 000
words

It is not a standalone book,
but part of a series
(Flame Born Book
2)

This story ends on a satisfying
cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Torn between finding answers and escaping chains, can
Michael trust his werewolf lover or is the devious vampire prince the only one truly on his
side?

Blurb

“And if I am a monster? Will you want me then?”

Ten days after the battle at Blackriver, Michael struggles
with new forbidden desires, with his rampant Flame, and a deepening relationship with the
taciturn werewolf, Commander Gabriel Flanagan.

Feeling responsible for their loss, Michael longs to rescue
the students stolen by the manipulative vampire prince, Alexei Vasiliev. But the High Council
refuses to free Michael from his chains. They fear the whisperer — the half-breed who
decimated an entire company of soldiers and came back from the dead. Yet, Michael still
yearns for a future among the Guardians. For a place beside his Finnish, silver-eyed giant.
For a home within the crazy supernatural world he’s now bound to.

But does Michael still have a future? He’s a descendent of
the Warlock — from a bloodline that produces only monsters. If discovered, not even his
protective lover can save him from certain execution. He may not want to.

Dark Fate is the second book in the Flame Born
series. This MM urban fantasy/paranormal romance is action packed, featuring steaming hot
scenes, a hunk of an alpha love interest, a chocolate scented snarky vampire prince, a clever
best friend who can kill a man with her little finger, and one too many shady characters to
count. See inside for trigger warnings on both books.

Excerpt

I grip the sink edge, knuckles white, and glare at the
contents of the glass vial lying beside the tap. The viscous liquid, the color of a fine bottled
wine, looks so innocuous. Innocent. A random sample of blood.

There’s nothing innocent about this vial’s contents.

Every time I see it, my mouth salivates with the need for a
taste. Whenever I take the vial from my pocket to caress the cool glass in my hand, a
clamoring monster of desire rips through me like a fire.

Not this time.

I swipe up the tube, twist out the cork, and prepare to pour
the blood away. Metal clanks against ceramic, echoing through the small bathroom, as the
chain between my wrist manacles knocks the sink. A heady smell of cocoa and figs hits my
nostrils. My hand falters. God, that scent.

His scent.

An urgency to inhale the smell deep into my lungs, to press
the glass into my lips and lick the rim, almost takes control.

Alexei. That devious vampire. He knew exactly what he was
doing when he left me with this. His blood constantly tugs at me like an unfinished song.
Like a broken tooth my tongue won’t leave alone.

I could wash temptation away. Watch clear water turn
burgundy as the vile substance slides into the drain.

I won’t.

I’ve faced this trial for ten days, and the result never
changes.

I’ve tried to show the vial to Flanagan. Tried to hand it over
so he can smash the glass and destroy the contents. Somehow, it always returns to my
hiding places. A dirty secret.

About the Author

I’m a simple northern English
lass with an addiction to writing, as well as all things romance. Also addicted to cats, cat
videos, and anything with, you know, cats in it. And there’s chocolate, and tea, coffee too,
and rainy Sundays. Okay, I have many addictions. But my first love has always been story in
all its forms, from movies to books to anecdotes told over a beer at the local pub. If we’re
sharing a story, I’m all ears. And if it’s fantasy with sexy heroes and vampires and lots of
angsty luuurve, I’m probably drooling. Come in, pour yourself a tea, and kick your shoes off.
Let me tell you a story.

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Facebook Group | Twitter

Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up | BookBub

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