Stanley I have life figured out—a good job, a nice car, and
an ex-boyfriend whose heart I broke. But then my half-brother dies unexpectedly, and I go
back to our hometown to settle his affairs. A quick trip before Christmas. Instead, I get the
shock of my life. Do I face this new challenge or do what I’ve always done—run? Or will I stay
and get to know the most amazing man I’ve ever met and take on a responsibility I’ve never
dreamed of facing? This will be a holiday season like no other. Justin I’m a therapist who helps people deal with grief.
My life is fulfilling. So what if I’ve been single for years? I have the kids I counsel and co-
workers I adore. Maybe I’m tired of going home to an empty house and not looking forward
to another Christmas alone. But I’m not going to be taken in by some slick city guy who can’t
wait to leave town. I’m not going to upend my life just because I’ve met the man of my
dreams. Right? This is an 85K, opposites-attract, insta-love, mid-
angst gay romance novel. Previously published in the charity anthology Secret Santa: A
Romance Collection, the story has quadrupled in size with more love, laughs, and a touch of
Christmas magic.
About the Author
Gabbi lives in beautiful British
Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood
squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing
contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in
happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true
love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black.
Themes: Learning to trust, taking a chance, making a commitment, daring
to dream, letting go of the past, being haunted by the past, established relationship, ex-
cop/PI, former art fraud investigator, mobsters, medium with a ghostly lover, haunted
theater, awesome and heroic food truck, mystery, cold case
Heat Rating: 5 flames
Length: 6 hrs and 21
mins/65 000 words
It is part of a series but could be read as a stand alone. It does not end on a cliffhanger.
Erik Mitchell helped Interpol
bust cartels, oligarchs, and spoiled billionaires for art fraud. As an undercover cop, Ben
Nolan helped bring down a Newark crime family. Now Erik and Ben have started over in
Cape May, leaving their danger-filled jobs behind them, excited about a fresh start and their
new relationship.
Plans to renovate a historic old
theater stir up dangerous ghosts and revive interest in unsolved Mob hits. The curse of a
murdered witch strikes a close friend, old movie props reveal clues to long-ago crimes, and a
shakedown scheme sends Ben’s cousin running for cover.
Time is running out to lift the
curse. The Russian Mob wants revenge on Erik, and the Newark Mob is gunning for Ben. A
grieving ghost seeks justice. Secrets, lies, and deception unravel in the blink of an eye.
Erik and Ben were planning for
happily ever after. But unless they can outwit witches, wraiths, and wise guys, they could go
down in a hail of gunfire and a blast of dark magic—and see their plans go up in smoke.
Blink is a suspenseful MM
paranormal romance mystery-adventure filled with second chance love, hurt/comfort, true
soulmates, awesome food trucks, dangerous secrets, restless ghosts, psychic visions,
powerful witches, angry mobsters, and a very haunted theater.
About the Author
Morgan Brice is the romance
pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male
paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the
happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author
hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more
explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in
her Morgan books, and vice versa.
On the rare occasions Morgan
isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.
Series include
Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more
in these series, plus new series coming soon!
Colin and Joshua’s love had seen them through every trial.
Every step taken together had strengthened their faith in each other. Every problem solved,
every obstacle overcome, had deepened their commitment to the life they shared. Colin had
passed the bar and was now an Attorney-at-law. Joshua had added a second PHD to his
resume. The future looked bright. What could possibly go wrong? And then: Three students are abducted from the University of
Virginia campus and Colin’s position as an Assistant Commonwealth’s Attorney puts him at
the center of the investigation. The abusive and volatile husband of one of Joshua’s
patients threatens his life. Entangled in both these life-threatening situations,
Colin struggles to protect both the university he loves and the man he adores. Warning: This novel discusses sensitive material
which may be distressing to some readers. Relevant Law explores themes of domestic abuse,
physical violence, abduction, and non-graphic sexual assault.
About the Author
My name is Janice Jarrell. I
am a retired grandmother who lives in Seattle, WA. I have two children and three
grandsons. I’ve been writing gay romance since I was twelve years old, only back then it
wasn’t called ‘gay romance’. In fact, it had no name at all. It was the fifty’s, and it was
worth your life to admit to being gay, let alone confess to being a girl who constantly
fantasized about relationships between gay men. Hell, I didn’t even know what a
homosexual was. I lived on a farm out in the sticks in a tiny Michigan village and I’d never, to my
knowledge, even heard the word. I just knew I loved the thought of boy-on-boy romance. I
just knew that there was something hot going on between Tom
Corbett and his Space Cadets and all those guys on ‘Combat’.
I wrote slash fanfiction for 30
years, writing over 337 stories, some as short as 100 words (a drabble), some as long as a
series which was over 119,012 words. I enjoy writing my stories. I enjoyed the feedback I
received from my readers. It was a creative release I’d been searching for my entire life and I
blessed the Internet for leading me to this artistic oasis for my spirit.
Love’s Magic was my very first
step into writing my own characters. I will always be grateful to the slash fanfiction
community for nurturing the budding author until she was ready to blossom into a fully
realized novelist. It’s been an amazing thing to watch the gay community’s growth over
these past twenty years. My own journey has echoed theirs in many ways, and I’m grateful
to all those gay activists who fought to give the gay community the rights and privileges they always deserved. Love’s Trials, Love’s Glory, and Love’s Lawyer were the second and third,
and forth books in the series and all four books are available in audio format on
Audible.
I’m also grateful to the gay
romance community, readers, authors, publishers and promoters, who are making these, my
retirement years, the most creative ones of my life. When I’m not writing, I’m traveling,
walking, hiking, knitting, crocheting, and weaving.
I’m very excited about the
upcoming release of my fifth contemporary gay romance novel, Relevant Law. Those of you
who fell in love with Joshua and Colin in the four previous books in this series are in for a bit
of angst in this latest episode. A dark and sinister cloud hangs over the University of Virginia
after three students are abducted, raped and beaten. Colin works with both campus and city
police to catch the perpetrator, but his hard work and effort proves futile when Joshua turns
up missing!
Despite their struggles there
are still many passionate, loving moments and the friends they treasure will be there to help
them find their way.
Mac’s three goals: keep
Tony safe, catch the killer, don’t come out.
Blurb
Tony Hart’s a dedicated teacher, though he’s not much
older than his high-school students. Between his profession, a few good friends, and plenty
of books, he’s content with his quiet life. Then the murdered body of another teacher falls
into the elevator at his feet, and Tony’s life becomes all too exciting. Jared MacLean is a homicide detective, widowed
father to a young daughter, and deeply in the closet. But from the moment he meets Tony’s
blue eyes in that high school hallway, Mac can’t help wanting this man in his life. Mac’s not
out ― can’t afford to be out ― but Tony makes him want the impossible. Mac isn’t the only one with their eyes on Tony,
though. As the murderer tries to cover their tracks, Mac has to work fast or lose Tony,
permanently. (This is a rerelease of the 2011 original with
light editing.)
Excerpt
Tony said after a pause. “You’re not the only person trapped in the closet. All those guys in
the military, stuck with don’task, don’t tell; other guys with macho jobs or religious families.
Lots of guys are doing it.”
“But you don’t want to,” Mac acknowledged.
“It wouldn’t be my first choice, no. I’ve put a lot of effort and pain into being out so I
wouldn’t have to hide. But I do want you, and I know that comes on your terms.”
“They’re not my terms,” Mac protested.
“Whatever. It comes with being secret and hiding whatever we have together. The question
is whether that’s better than not having anything together.”
Mac wanted to shout that of course it was, but he bit his tongue.
Tony looked at him hard. “The other question you have to ask yourself is whether you want to take the risk. No matter how careful we are, you may get caught. A
wrong look, a note in your pocket, someone tracking down your cell in an emergency; there
are lots of ways this could come out in the open. It’s not a problem for me. But is that a risk
that you want to take?”
Mac opened his mouth to say yes, and hesitated. How have I come this far this
fast? He’d been willing to cut away anything in his life that risked his daughter Anna
or the job. And sex had never been that important. But this wasn’t about sex; it was about
Tony. And Tony had somehow become too important to cut away. It might hurt less to
give up breathing.
“There’s never been anyone I could go to, to just be myself. I’ve never had a lover, or even a
fuck-buddy. I thought I could live without that, but now… I don’t want to. Even with Mai, I
wasn’t… I couldn’t relax completely. With you, I’m just me.”
“Yeah.” Tony smiled at him. “That’s part of being gay, you know. It’s not just who you want in
bed. It’s who your emotional relationships are with the other twenty-three hours of the day,
whose arms you want around you when life hands you shit.”
About the Author
I get asked about my name a
lot. It’s not something exotic, though. “Kaje” is pronounced just like “cage” – it’s an old
nickname, and my pronouns are she/her/hers. I’ve been writing far longer than I care to
admit (*whispers – forty-five years*), although mostly for my own entertainment. I write
M/M romance, often with added mystery, fantasy, historical, SciFi, paranormal… I also have
Young Adult short stories (some released under the pen name Kira Harp.)
After decades of writing just
for fun, my husband convinced me I really should submit something, somewhere. My first
professionally published book, Life Lessons, came out in May 2011. I now have a good-sized
backlist in ebooks and print, both free and professionally published, including Amazon
bestseller The Rebuilding Year and Rainbow Award Best Mystery-Thriller Tracefinder: Contact.
A complete list with links can be found on my website “Books” page at https://kajeharper.com/books/.
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.”
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.
I’m not a fan of Christmas. I’m happy to stay up in my
mountain cabin and let the silly season pass me by. But when a friend asks for a favor, I
can’t say no. Now I’m stuck in my cabin during a snowstorm, trapped with the most
beautiful man I’ve ever met—who can’t wait to get away. He just might break my heart
when he goes.
Ravi
I’m racing to get home for the birth of my goddaughter
when mechanical troubles force my plane’s emergency landing. There are no beds at the inn
due to a horrendous storm, but a friend says she knows a guy who won’t mind putting me
up until the bad weather passes. Now I’m trapped with that man, and I must decide if I stay,
hiding from the rest of the world, or go and face my past to earn a shot at my happily ever
after.
This is a 72k word, hurt/comfort, lumberjack/nurse,
grumpy/sunshine, forced proximity MM romance novel with a moderate amount of
angst.
Excerpt
All of a sudden, the mechanical whirr of a window
descending sounded through the cabin, and within moments, a blast of cold air hit my
neck.
“Jesus, Sofia.”
I glanced in the side mirror, and damned if the dog didn’t
have her head stuck out the window. She must’ve climbed over my bag and, apparently,
knew how to lower the window.
Impressive.
“I’m rolling up the window.”
More whirring, and an indignant yip.
I didn’t speak dog, but I knew pissed when I heard
it.
“I don’t care.” Maddox gripped the steering wheel so
tightly his knuckles were white.
Another yip.
“Okay. One French fry. But that’s all you’re getting. Zephyra
said no more treats.”
I hesitated. None of my business, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Uh, if you don’t mind me asking, who is Zephyra?” I probably didn’t need to know, but this
was the first conversation in about fifteen minutes, and even if I was interrupting
dog/human communication, I wanted in on the discussion.
“Dr. Zephyra Dixon is Sophia’s veterinarian. Her clinic is
across from the A&W, and she might have spotted me giving Sophia a
French fry.”
Two quick successive yaps.
Ah, now the truth was coming out.
Sofia placed her front paws on the center console by my
elbow and nuzzled my ear again.
“Holy crap, dog, you’re all wet.” And cold.
“Hence the reason I don’t want her rolling down the
window. Doesn’t have the sense God gave her.”
I glanced over my shoulder to find a grinning pup. Oh, she
was mighty pleased with herself.
“At least she’s strapped in.” I’d noticed that. Some kind of
harness system. She could go back and forth between the two back windows and come up
to the front console, but was clearly secured.
“There’s a reason for that.”
I waited, but no further elucidation came. “Care to
share?”
A grunt. “Not long after I got her, we were driving home
from town. When I arrived at my place, the back seat was empty.” He shot a quick glare at
the dog who didn’t appear the least bit cowed. “She won’t tell me if she slipped or jumped,
but she’d gone out the window when I’d slowed down to make a left. Took me two hours of
walking the back roads. Finally, someone stopped and told me where they’d seen her. Little
shit.” That last bit was muttered, but clearly audible.
I turned to face Sofia. “That must have been
traumatizing.”
A snort. “Little dear was lapping up the luxury in someone’s
backyard, sunning herself after a dip in the kiddie pool. Damn lucky no one shot
her.”
“Shot her?” I pressed a hand to my chest.
“Plenty of my neighbors have guns. Wouldn’t be legal, but
that wouldn’t stop some of them. She lucked out.”
I tweaked her nose. “Did you hurt yourself?”
A snicker. “She was just fine. Shaved a couple of years off
my life, but she was no worse for wear.”
Ah, so he did have a heart.
For his dog, at least.
About the Author
Gabbi lives in beautiful British
Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood
squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing
contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in
happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true
love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black.
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
Hi. I’m Tristan Kanes. At least I was once upon a time. Tomorrow, who knows who I’m going
to be? But I digress. I’m getting ahead of myself as usual. I’ll back up a bit. I thought it would
be a good idea to attempt to run away from my destiny, but destiny tends to follow a
person.
I’ve reached the upper ridges of Markaytia’s North Wood and I’ve been gone for several
hours. Lucca will come after me soon. I creep to the edge of the plateau and look out to her,
to Markaytia. Tomorrow, I’m to marry an Elven Prince. I know it sounds luxurious, every
boy’s dream and all, but it isn’t that simple.
I must give up my entire life for this man.
It’s not long before I hear footsteps I recognize behind me. I’m certain of whom it is. I don’t
even turn to look, until the tree branch pokes into my back.
He wants to fight me today, does he? I jump up with lightning speed, conditioned from the
day I could stand on two feet and because I always take reconnaissance of my surroundings,
I know there is a stick for me to use against him, two feet away. I snatch it up and take a
defensive stance against my assassin. I strike, slice, slash, pierce, and segment his pathetic
battle strategy—well, pathetic against mine. My cousin is a formidable swordsman—I
outsmart him at every turn with my dexterous footwork and accom‐ plished foresight.
We’ve fought in many battles since the time we were fifteen and trained together from
almost the moment we sprang from the womb—it’s in our blood. Peace is a warrior’s
mission, yet in succeeding, he renders himself useless. It makes him no less driven to battle.
Peace is a fleeting season, even for Markaytia, and I sense that this season of peace has had
its turn and war is on the horizon. Either way, everywhere is dangerous now and the people
need protection. War will continue to happen whether I want it to or not and when it does, I
want to be the one leading the troops.
Now to convince my husband-to-be of that.
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.”
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.
It is a standalone story,
although the story continues as a web serial on my website with the first chapter available
to download for free in audio after signing up to my newsletter.
The book does not end on a
cliffhanger, although there is a possibility of
continuation as mentioned above.
Running from his shattered gymnastics career, Charlie
Avrill’s one hope for redemption is the strange and colourful world of the circus. His skills
should make him a good fit for seasoned performer, Darius Lungo. But Darius won’t
compromise his high stakes act for just anyone. Still mourning the loss of his performance partner
who unexpectedly abandoned the show, Darius’s heart can’t take another temporary filler.
No matter how perfect Charlie might seem at first glance. But the circus is dying, and Darius
owes his bosses a stellar act to sell. Putting their differences aside to recreate the star
attraction, Darius and Charlie grow closer with each rehearsal. But Charlie’s only in the ring
for a one-night-only performance and the circus is due at its next stop—off the island and
into Europe. Can Charlie push aside his fears and take the leap
of faith to change his entire life? And, if he does, will Darius still be there to catch
him? Leap of Faith is a standalone age-gap, enemies
to lovers, mm romance where the twists and turns don’t only happen in the
ring.
About the Author
Brought up in a relatively
small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do
and fail—leave.
Studying at a West London
university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much
like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly search for
the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with
chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where
the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead
of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down
coffee.
Eventually she moved West
to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a
bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating
a life, a home and a family.
After her second son was
born with a rare disability, C F White’s life changed and it brought pen back to and paper
after having written stories as a child but never had the confidence to show them to the
world. Now, having embarked on this writing journey, C F White can’t stop.
