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

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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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BLOG TOUR: “The Tiergarten Tales” by Paolo G. Grossi

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Book Title: The Tiergarten Tales

Author: Paolo G.
Grossi

Publisher: The Conrad
Press

Cover Artist: Charlotte
Mouncey

Release Date: May 31,
2021

Genres: LGBTQ+ / Historical Fiction

Tropes: Boys’ friendship

Themes: Toxic masculinity and fatherly love

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 90 035 words / 384
pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Waterstones

Berlin. Its boys. Their stories

Blurb

Boys and men of Berlin. A captivating journey through their
lives, love affairs and misdemeanours across the city’s turbulent history.

Felix and Walther bestride a deep class divide, forging an
enduring bond in 1890s Prussia. Kaspar and Max navigate the fraught upheavals of the
Weimar Republic by skilfully marketing the only commodity in demand. Young Kazimierz
leaves his impoverished Silesian village and sets off on an epic journey to the Prussian
capital, the seat of an ageing Frederick the Great. His heavenly beauty, endearing naivety
and, ultimately, fate will transform his life once through the gates of the city.

Echoes within echoes. Circles within circles. Wealth,
poverty and moral compromise. The privilege and toxic masculinity of the Prussian officer
class.

Excerpt from The Lodger

Grey sky. It has been so for the last few days, or weeks,
months perhaps. It had been his decision to move here so there is no one else to blame.
That irks him no end, no

one to blame, no one to shout at.

Up here on the sixth floor one can barely hear the
traf-

fic below and there is never much of it anyway; it’s early
morning and he lives on a quiet and leafy street, upmarket, expensive, unaffordable for
most people.

The air is warm and all he wears is pyjama bottoms; he
prefers to walk around the apartment barefoot though he misses a soft thick carpet. But
more often than not homes come with beautiful wooden parquet here: beautiful but
uncomfortable for his feet which have lost some of the supple elasticity they used to have.
Age, always age; he wishes he could log out from thinking about ageing.

Coffee time. He walks back inside through the French doors
and inserts a capsule in the machine, the mechanical noise reassuring, another morning
with the same routine.

Frau Greta is on her way and he needs to get out. It’s his
rule number one or, rather, hers: get out of the cleaning lady’s way, you’re just a hindrance
and when she took on the job she dropped a few stern hints which allowed no debate. Very
German, he smiles.

No breakfast at home; he’ll walk to the Bismarck Bistro for

mid-morning brunch. The temperature is warm enough to sit outside with just a light jacket
and watch the world go by.

Except that it never does. The bistro is quaint and the fare
of good quality but it never seems to be that busy, though the lack of a crowd has lately
developed into a pleasure rather than a shortcoming.

Either way the bistro is close, reasonably priced, and on the
edge of that vast and wild forest in the centre of the city peculiarly described as a
‘garten’.

He’s ready now and he feels pleasantly casual: slacks, a
polo and a light blue jacket. A scarf around his neck protects him from the light
breeze.

And sunglasses. He has spent a good chunk of his previous
life in a part of the world where everyone wore sunglasses, outdoor and indoor. You could
never see anyone’s eyes. Beautiful eyes, old eyes, blue, green, black, it didn’t matter; they
were all behind dark lenses. All the fucking time.

But he has kept the habit; perhaps one day he’ll lose it.
Habits come and go.

He strolls along the oak-lined paths before turning towards
the bistro. Empty roads. Is that Sunday? Perhaps not, but the roads are always empty here
anyway. Which he loves. Or not. He’s not yet sure.

When he reaches the bistro, he lazily scans the area: a few
tables outside, almost empty as usual, one middle-aged guy tapping away at his laptop in
the far corner.

He takes a seat and then remembers the free newspapers
inside so he gets up again and strolls in to pick up a copy of the Morgenpost.

Ella is at the till. The owner greets him in a low voice and
with a smile. She must do that with all the regular customers, he thinks, but he likes it as it
makes him feel special even if he is dead sure he isn’t.

After three years his German has improved dramatically. He
has subjected himself to a gruelling and eye-wateringly expensive blitz of private tuitions.
He can now finish read- ing long-winded and often completely irrelevant opinion pieces.
Nothing much ever seems to happen here anyway. He prefers books to news but he forgot
to bring one along.

‘Good morning sir, what can I get you today?’

Not Ella’s voice. It sounds soft and warm, young, almost
female though clearly not.

As he turns, a young man of perhaps less than twenty
stands there with a smile and detectable eagerness. The eagerness of the new employee,
the excitement of a new job, the freshness of a new chapter.

The boy gently shifts the wheat blond fringe along his
forehead; a pair of black framed spectacles sits on his angular nose, the thick prescription
lenses magnifying his light blue eyes.

‘Good morning, let’s see: a cappuccino for a start, I haven’t
decided on the food, may I have a minute?’

‘Sure, sir, I’ll get the drink ready for you, take your
time.’

The manners are calm and polite. Unassuming, he
ponders.

After a few minutes the young man returns with the
cappuccino and briefly stands there, clearly waiting for the order but with no impatient
insistence.

About the Author

Paolo G. Grossi was born and
raised in Milan. Thirty years ago, he spent a weekend in London and decided to stay. Like
most Italians, opera and the visual arts are his main passions. When not writing, you will
surely find him attending a performance, visiting a museum and, of course, spending some
time cycling in Berlin or around the Wannsee. He lives in London with his partner David.

The Tiergarten
Tales is his first book.

Author Links

Blog/Website | Instagram

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BLOG TOUR: “Dual Threat Love” by Lola Noire. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

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Book Title: Dual Threat Love

Author: Lola Noire

Publisher: Jessica Watkins
Presents

Release Date: September 15, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M
Romance

Length: 53 000
words

Heat Rating: 4 flames

It is book 1 of 2 and ends on
a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links –
Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Will Patrick, now a
Superstar NFL Quarterback, be willing to give Ace a second chance? Or will old pain and
Patrick’s high-profile personality stand in the way?

Blurb

Ace, the Billionaire Heir and Patrick, the Help’s son, met
when they were sixteen and thirteen years old, respectively. What started as childhood
friendship forever altered their lives for better and for worse. Faced with misunderstanding
and miscommunication, they went their separate ways hurt and heartbroken.

Years later, they met again. This time, the Billionaire CEO is
determined to win his best friend and the love of his life, Patrick, back.

While Ace is determined to rekindle this love, will Patrick,
now a Superstar NFL Quarterback, be willing to give Ace a second chance? Or will old pain
and Patrick’s high-profile personality stand in the way?

Whether together or apart, both men will fight to the bitter
end for their version of happily ever after.

Excerpt from the Prologue

Ace

Patrick and I met years ago during a summer vacation at my family’s villa on Highland Beach
in Boca Raton. Patrick was 13 years old and I was 16 at the time. As usual, my parents had
been fighting. My mother was miserable in our home on Long Island, so she decided to take
a trip to Florida to get away from my father and his latest mistress. I could have stayed in
New York and hung out with my friends or I could have traveled to any place in the world of
my choosing. However, I decided to accompany my mother. Blame it on the soft spot I had
for that frail-looking, pill-popping, pale lady.

A few days into our vacation, the grand villa felt more like a four-by-four shoebox. I was
bored out of my mind and on the verge of losing my shit. Taking pity on me, Ms. June, the
housekeeper and Patrick’s mother, told my mother that her second son, Patrick, her baby
boy, as she fondly called him, who was around my age, was also home doing nothing for
that summer.

“If that’s okay with you, Mrs. De’Rochard, I can bring him with me to work so that Ace can
have someone around his age to talk to,” she suggested.

“That would be lovely if you could, Ms. June,” Mother replied without any hesitation.

“Pat is a good boy, so they should get along.”

“I hope they do. Again, thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

While Mother and Ms. June readily made plans for Patrick and me, I was a bit apprehensive.
It wasn’t that I was scared or did not want to meet Ms. June’s son. The truth was I’d had
limited contact with Black kids in my young life and I had no idea what to expect. It wasn’t
like I didn’t know anything about Black people. I lived in New York City, for crying out loud.
However, my inner circle had consisted of only a few selected friends from similar social,
economic, and racial backgrounds as me, strategically handpicked by my parents since I was
very young.

As the sole heir to the multi-billion-dollar De’Rochard Empire, I had learned early on to be
cautious of the constant danger that lurked around me. The risks of being approached by
individuals with ulterior motives, being kidnapped, or worse yet, being murdered by
someone who had a vendetta against my family were ever-present.”

I was only five years old when my nanny of three years had conspired to kidnap me in
exchange for $10 million in ransom. It took the FBI and my parents’ private security team
less than 2 hours to locate us in Buffalo, New York and whisk me to safety. Leonora and her
boyfriend, the apparent mastermind of the scheme, were arrested. Unfortunately, they did
not live long enough to face a judge. My father had made sure to make an example of them
just in case someone else might have had a similar idea. Father had been the only judge and
jury of that case. The Crusader Disciples had acted as the executioners. My own personal
security team was assigned to me soon after, which consisted of no less than three guards
and they’d been with me ever since.

To say the least, I was anxious about meeting Patrick. All day I kept thinking that I should lay
off the news as the media often portrayed young Black men living in the inner cities as less
than favorable. My father’s views on Black men were also not the prettiest, to put it lightly.
So, sue me if I had never dealt with any Black people except for some of the help. The night
before Ms. June brought Patrick with her, I got really edgy as endless “what-ifs” ran through
my mind. I finally fell asleep in the early morning hours only to be plagued by dreams of
different adverse outcomes of meeting Patrick.

“Hi, I’m Patrick,” said the small boy standing next to Ms. June by the theater room’s door in
a soft and sultry timbre.

I looked up to the most beautiful brownish-hazel eyes that I had ever seen that were
covered with unbelievable long lashes.

“Ace… I’m Ace,” I replied a few seconds too late, not realizing that I was staring. I quickly
reached for his extended hand that felt so small in mine as I held it a bit longer than I should
have.

“You boys, have fun!” Ms. June shouted as she went about her business.

Pat did not pull his hand from mine. Instead, he glanced at our hands with a raised brow. I
quickly let go and said the first damn thing that came to mind.

“So, you and me the whole summer, hmm?”

“Looks like it.”

Our eyes met. He smiled, and all of my nervousness was forgotten. What a smile he had! His
plump, pink lips covered a mouth with perfect white teeth. His eyes were full of mischief
that was made more noticeable by his smile. I marveled at his beauty. His dark chocolate
complexion seemed to radiate under the hot Floridian sun. I found myself staring at him too
many times during that summer. I didn’t know why, but I could not wait to see him walk

back through the door the next day each time he would go home.

Soon, I felt comfortable enough around him to be myself and talk about anything. We would
talk for hours and never get bored. We talked about our respective lives. Unlike other
people, Pat, the short name I soon began to call him, never asked me about my fortune. He
only asked about New York City since he had never been there before; and he expressed a
desire to see Central Park. I told him about my friends, school, and some of the countries I’d
visited. Like typical teenage boys, we talked about girls and celebrity crushes.

I taught him how to play chess, poker, and countless games on my PlayStation3. He was a
quick learner, and it did not take him long to start beating me at the games I had taught him.
He eagerly reciprocated my lessons by showing me how to play dominos and lidos. Unlike
me, Patrick was into sports. He played both basketball and football. He’d managed to get me
play a few games even though that wasn’t my thing. It didn’t matter what we were playing
because for that summer, as long as I was playing with Pat, I was happy. Also, we both were
excellent swimmers so we spent countless hours at the beach or the heated indoor pool
trying to outdo each other. I liked our swimming sessions the most because I could steal
glances at his body without any restriction. I particularly liked the tingling sensation in my
stomach whenever our bodies touched while we wrestled around.

Patrick was obsessed with the X-Men series. I quickly learned that Wolverine was his
absolute favorite character. He could not wait for X-Men Origins: Wolverine to come out the
following summer. He shared that his older brother, Lamar, whom he seemed to idolize, had
gotten mixed up with a gang and was now serving a three-year prison sentence for
possession of narcotics with the intent to sell in a school zone. I noticed the sadness in his
eyes when he talked about his brother, and it broke my heart to see how much he was
hurting.

About the Author

Born in Haiti and bred in
Brooklyn, NY, Lola Noire is a passionate fan of all things sports and has a love-hate
relationship with traveling. Lola is an alumna of Niagara University, John Jay College, and
National University of Ireland, Galway.

Lola Noire is the author of
the debut novel, Dual Threat Love, an interracial M/M sports story.

Find the Author on Facebook

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BLOG TOUR: “Blink” by Morgan Brice. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

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Book Title: Blink: MM
Supernatural Suspense

Author: Morgan
Brice

Publisher: Darkwind
Press

Cover Artist: Lou
Harper

Release Date: September 2,
2021

Genres: Paranormal/Urban Fantasy M/M Romance, action/adventure,
romantic suspense

Tropes: Second chance love,
hurt/comfort, true soulmates, psychic, medium, witches, ghosts, haunted theater, Mafia,
mobsters, ex-cop, ex-Interpol, resort town, starting over

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: 65 000 words/228
pages

It is part of series but could be read as a stand alone. It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Ghosts always
remember. Mobsters never forget.

Blurb

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.

Excerpt

“Hi everyone. Are we going in?” A dark-haired woman in her early forties with olive skin and
black hair sauntered up, dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. Alessia Mason always seemed
calm and controlled, but now she clearly radiated excitement at the possibility of glimpsing
the old theater.

Alessia owned the Spirit of the Sea gift shop and had married into one of the old Cape May
families, but right now what mattered most was her role as the head of the local coven and
the powerful magic she had inherited from her Sicilian mother.

“Right this way,” Jaxon said, brandishing the key. “The Arts Council officially owns the
building, so we don’t even have to sneak in.”

He unlocked the door to the convenience store, which was a shell of its past self. All of the

fixtures had been sold off, but the faded signage around the top of the walls remained,
directing customers toward soft drinks, sundries, and restrooms.

They followed him inside, and Jaxon locked the door behind them. Then they headed
toward the back, past the break room and offices to an unmarked door.

“The store was here for over twenty years, and most people never knew that the Regent
Theater lay behind it,” Jaxon said. He gestured toward the area they had just navigated.

“Imagine coming through the big glass doors, past the ticket booth,” Jaxon said, pointing
back the way they had come. “You’d enter a high-ceiling lobby with a bar, concession stand,
and seating for patrons who came early to see and be seen. Then you’d move farther inside,
and there would be double doors leading into the actual theater.”

Erik looked behind them, struggling to imagine the way it had once been. A grid of acoustic
panels hid the original molded plaster ceiling several feet higher that he had seen in
photographs. The plain walls and stained tile floor made it difficult to picture lush red
carpet, velvet rope swags, cocktail servers, and a concession stand that not only had
popcorn but according to the stories Jaxon shared on the drive over, also served foie gras.

Jaxon opened the door and reached inside to flip on a light. Erik hesitated to get a psychic
read on the space ahead.

“Definitely haunted,” Alessia said, staring into the distance with a glazed look that told Erik
her attention lay elsewhere.

His own touch magic worked differently. To get a strong reaction, Erik usually had to be in
physical contact with an object. He had avoided touching anything since they had arrived,
but even so, the theater itself gave off unmistakable vibes. Both he and Alessia had extra
perception which included seeing ghosts, although neither was a full medium able to
summon or speak with the dead.

“Bad things happened here.” Erik found himself speaking before he realized it. “Dark magic.
Death. Cursed.”

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!

Author Links

Website |
Audible Profile | Amazon profile

Facebook Group | Facebook Page

Pinterest (for Morgan and Gail) | Twitter


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BLOG TOUR: “Blooded” by Nat Kennedy. $20.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

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Book Title: Blooded

Author: Nat
Kennedy

Cover Artist: Silvana Sanchez
– Selfpub Designs

Release Date: September 25,
2021

Genre:
Fantasy/Vampires

Tropes: Hurt/comfort,
antagonists to allies/lovers, past student/teacher, vampire blood feeding, vampire blood
bond

Themes: Redemption,
Personal Acceptance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 113 500 words/290
pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

How far will two sorcerers
go to save humanity? Will they give up their lives? Will they give up their
hearts?

Blurb

A broken mage. A penitent vampire. Can they put aside the
horrors of the past to save each other?

Plagued with erratic. volatile magic, Nicodemus Green
focuses his entire life to stop an evil sorcerer who brainwashes or kills anyone in his path to
domination. Ten years into this crusade, Nick stumbles upon his former Academy instructor
in the Austrian Alps. The strict and pious Byron Domitius has cloistered himself in an isolated
manor. Alone and starving, he hates the twisted, damned creature he has become.

A prophecy calls for Nick and Byron to bond by blood to
finally bring an end to the sorcerer’s hidden agenda. The two are forced to see beyond their
shared past, and Nick finds himself desiring more from his old instructor than just his magic.
But are these emotions real, or do they come from the heat of their bond?

Excerpt – Stargazing

They stood side by side, almost close, looking up at the twinkling stars. Byron pointed, and
Nick followed his finger to the sky.

“Perseus,” Byron said. “Do you see that, the upper right branch of Perseus? Do you know
what I’m talking about?”

“I had astronomy with you two years in a row. Or did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget. I nurtured the assumption that you and your gang of goons had more
important things to do than pay attention in my class.”

“Goons? We did pay attention. I know the constellation.” He didn’t remember it from
Byron’s class, though. They had a Mentor of the Month who lived at an observatory near the
top of Mt. St. Helens in Washington, and they’d spent hours staring at the stars. It had been
windy and cold, and the sky had been clear, the stars brilliant.

“Fine. That star, the bright one, is Algol. It means Demon Head. Fitting for the constellation
that is supposed to hold the head of Medusa.”

Nick hmmed to show he was listening. Byron’s voice was soothing, deep and
quiet in the dark of night. Comfortable. Safe. “Algol is actually a tertiary star, but the third
star is so weak, it puts off little shine. It’s used by celestials as a binary system to imbue
power into obsidian.”

“A twin star.” Suddenly invested, Nick gazed up with a sense of wonder. “Is that the power
that was in my obsidian, sir?”

Byron nodded, then turned to Nick, his dark eyes fathomless, his face young and smooth
and illuminated from above. “Yes. There are two stars there, circling one another. Their
individual gravitational pull keeps them in a perfect orbit, tethered in their eternal spin. And
together, they are brighter for it,” he said softly, reverently. The air felt heavy, and then
Byron faced the sky.

Nick watched his old professor out of the corner of his eyes, unmoving, like a statue, gazing
upon the night sky with a depth of sorrow and yearning Nick couldn’t understand, never
could understand, even after his years of wandering. He wanted to reach out, touch him,
perhaps melt his cold flesh, make him come alive with contact, and then he realized he was
staring and thinking inappropriate things.

He cleared his throat.

“Well, I should get back in, Byron. Enjoy your evening.”

Byron slowly looked down at him, a small smile on his lips, not a smirk, but a close cousin
like he could read Nick’s thoughts. Felt Nick’s desire like a breeze on his arms.

“You as well.”

About the Author

Nat Kennedy writes fantasy
fiction of all kinds. She strives to create engaging, plotty romantic stories. In her worlds,
Heroes abound. She lives in the Pacific Northwest where the rain keeps the world green.
Find her online at natkennedy.com or on IG natkennedybooks.

Social Media Links

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BLOG TOUR: “Feral Hearts” by Melissa E. Costa. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included.

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Book Title: Feral Hearts: Book
1

Author: Melissa E
Costa

Publisher:
Self-Published

Cover Artist: Vanesa
Gorkova

Release Date: August 19,
2021

Genres: Paranormal/Urban
Fantasy M/M Romance.

Tropes: Friends to Lovers.
Childhood friends. Gay for you. Omegaverse. Hurt/Comfort. Fated Mates.

Themes: Soul Mates,
classism

Heat Rating: 2
flames

Length: 68 683 words/176
pages

This is book one in the Feral
Hearts series.

The book does
not a cliffhanger, per se, but the story’s conclusion
won’t be reached until the end of book 3.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

To save the one he
loves, he must face the beast within.

Blurb

Alex isn’t a traditional alpha—he’s gentle, awkward, and
caring. He also has no desire to assume leadership of the Black Moon Pack once his father
steps down.

Talen is an omega stray, taken in by Alex’s parents and
raised as his brother. He’s also straight, emotionally damaged, and the love of Alex’s
life.

Now of age, Talen is forced into the role of an
omega—those treated little better than slaves. Worse yet, the monster inside of Alex has
awoken and set its sights on Talen. The beast will stop at nothing to get what it wants, even
if it takes the whole world down to do it.

Alex must face his worst nightmares if he ever has a chance
at protecting Talen. Is he strong enough to bring them together, or will he lose Talen along
with the pack?

This three-book series tells a continuous story with a
resolution at the end of book three.

Excerpt

Alex couldn’t believe they were going to flog Talen. Eben
stood to the side of the pillar with his back to Alex. He had been able to get Alex out of
doing the whipping.

Etched into the pillar were symbols from the old language.
A loop made of rope was attached to a minor ledge higher up in the stone. Its purpose was
for this very thing. The shaman placed a large wooden block at Talen’s feet and had him step
up onto it. Even elevated, he still wasn’t tall enough to fit his wrists through the loop, so
they told him to hang onto it instead.

Talen wasn’t wearing a shirt. His arms above his head
stretched his torso and made visible the taunt muscles of his abdomen and chest. Tiny
beads of sweat gathered on his collarbone before they rolled down his back. Whether
caused by anticipation or the blistering heat, Alex didn’t know. Talen’s left arm was no
longer hidden by his sleeve, making the slight bow in his wrist apparent for anyone who
knew where to look. A nearly unnoticeable tremble shook his shoulders. He looked so small
then, fragile, even though Talen was anything but.

One of the shamans began making a speech. Her loud voice
carried on the wind. “To speak out against your betters is the greatest disrespect you can
show to your pack.” She was lecturing Talen, but she also looked around as if talking to the
crowd, making an example out of him. A wave of nausea washed over Alex as his anger rose.
“When you disrespect your pack, you’re disrespecting yourself.”

“Stupid bitch,” Alex grumbled. “Get off your high horse.”
Even though he hadn’t wanted to watch the whipping, his feet moved on their own until he
was close enough to see Talen’s face clearly.

“Talen, for your disobedience, you will be punished by
thirty slashes to your back to be carried out by the pack leader.”

Eben held a medium-sized bullwhip.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” the shaman
continued. “To say to Roman, who you have disrespected by your behavior?”

For one moment, Talen looked like he would say
something, and it wouldn’t be nice. That fire burned behind his dark-hazel eyes.

Alex remembered his father’s words at dinner.
If Talen doesn’t go through with this, he might
have to find himself another pack.

As cowardly as it seemed, Alex prayed that Talen would
keep his mouth shut. Please, don’t say anything.
Please, Talen. Please don’t say anything.

Talen closed his eyes, and the tension left his body.

“Only to apologize for my insolence.” His words carried on
the mild breeze that made standing outside on this humid hot day bearable. But Alex
couldn’t care less about the wind or how good it felt against his skin. Instead, his attention
focused only on Talen. Even though Talen bowed his head, and his words sounded a bit
hollow, there was a fire to them—Talen’s voice, his spark. His energy. His will to fight. Talen
amazed him. His ability to stay himself, to not give into fear, regardless of the hell he had
been through. Alex envied him. Talen might have been an omega, whereas he was an alpha,
but there was no doubt that Talen was the stronger of the two of them.

His father got in position and raised the whip. With a loud
crack, it singed between Talen’s shoulder blades, leaving an ugly red gash. Talen’s breath
hitched. He clenched the rope, baring his teeth. Every taunt muscle on his body writhed
with each slash that marred his back. He wasn’t crying out, though. Talen was a proud
one.

Another crack.

Alex tightened his fists.

Each crack grew louder and louder. Alex’s claws dug into his
fists until tiny droplets of blood trailed down his palms.

Ten slashes into the punishment, Talen’s visible ribs heaved

with each breath. His lithe frame trembled. Then his wolf surged, forming a white aura. It
didn’t stretch out into a shadow—mostly that was an alpha thing—rather, it surrounded him
like a sphere as it had done before with Roman—a white wolf seemingly chasing its tail in an
endless figure eight. Its hazy white color made Talen appear blurry. It wasn’t large enough to
affect Eben, only a whip length away.

It reeked of agony, hurt, anger, but mostly
pain—Talen’s.

Alex turned away. His stomach clenched in knots.
Something dark grew inside of him. Blacker, thicker. As he looked back at Talen, all Alex felt
was rage.

Talen let out a scream before he bit his lip and a trail of
blood spilled down his chin. Finally, he lost the battle, and he started crying out with each
lash.

Alex’s fangs elongated. He wanted to kill them. All of them.
His dad included. How fucking dare they lay one hand on Talen? On his Talen.

About the Author

Melissa writes
character-driven fiction, and any genre is fair game. When she’s not writing, she enjoys
reading, anime, manga, and gaming. Living by the motto of trying all things twice, Melissa
has jumped out of a perfectly good plane, swum with manatees, dived headfirst into Alice’s
rabbit hole, and seduced classy ladies in 6-inch heels. A free-spirited bohemian, she
currently lives in artsy St. Petersburg, Florida, with her soulmate and their two adorably
needy cats.

Author Links

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Facebook | Twitter

Instagram | Newsletter
Sign-up | Amazon

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BLOG TOUR: “To Poison a Prince” by Aldrea Alien. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

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Book Title: To Poison a Prince

Author: Aldrea Alien

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Leonardo Borazio

Release Date: July 31, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy Romance

Trope/s: Hurt/Comfort, Man in Peril, Cultural Differences, Dysfunctional Family, Mystery Murderer, Opposites Attract

Themes: Royalty, Wedding, Revenge 

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 269 231 words

It is book 2 in the A Tale of Two Princes series  

Goodreads Link

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Someone is out to murder his husband and he might just be the reason they succeed.

Blurb 

Imperial Crown Prince Darshan knew his journey home wasn’t going to be the modest one he hoped for, especially not after eloping with Hamish, a former prince—and now exile—of Tirglas.

When he thwarts a clumsy attempt on his husband’s life during a soirée hosted by his long-standing rival and half-sister, he figures the worst is behind them.

Yet, the threat of death continues to shadow them across the empire. Someone is intent on making the rumours of his husband’s demise a reality, someone who can erase the memory of their very presence from people’s minds.

Darshan must discover who is behind the attempts before they succeed. But who can he trust when the culprit is capable of slipping by the most vigilant of guards?

Excerpt 

“Your highness,” Katarina said in a clear address to himself. “I hear you’ve travelled through imperial lands for some months. What is your current outlook on it?” Although she spoke Udynean, the musical hint of her own language whispered through. A much softer melody than the last hedgewitch Hamish had met.

He swallowed the wine and considered the past eight weeks of travel from the distant port of Haalabof to here, of the seemingly endless roads winding along the lands and the villages small enough to barely warrant a mention on a map. “It has certainly been an experience.” He’d been propositioned at least seven times along the way. Maybe even more that had been too subtle for him to notice.

The hedgewitch’s eyes almost sparkled. “You simply must give me details, your highness. It’s so rare to have an outside opinion on Udynea.”

Hamish opened his mouth, his agreement balancing on his tongue, only to remain silent as Darshan laid a bejewelled hand atop his.

“I’m sure my husband is most eager to oblige the request, Madam Hedgewitch, but perhaps another time would be more suited?”

Her lashes fluttering, Katarina lowered her head. “Of course, vris Mhanek.” She picked at the rest of her meal, perhaps looking for a reason to remain silent as she vibrated with an energy that reminded Hamish of his nephews when they sorely wanted to natter people’s ears off.

A pang of longing turned his stomach. A yearning to embrace his sisters, to hear his nephews scheming and his niece’s laughter. He would even take his brother’s good-natured ribbing just for a chance to hear his voice.

Hamish swallowed, blinking furiously to stem the tears threatening to spill. He hadn’t expected to feel homesick, but he’d never been beyond Tirglas before, hadn’t even been more than a week’s travel from Mullhind Castle for years. Now it was months away and there was more land to cover before they reached their destination.

A whole continent between him and his family; people he would never get to see again thanks to his mother’s poisonous ire.

“Do eat up, brother dear,” Onella purred, jolting Hamish from his thoughts. His sister-in-law gestured to the plate before Darshan, the rings adorning her fingers glittering in the candlelight. She had changed gowns, or at least the filmy topmost layer, and her arm showed no sign of Darshan’s attack. “All that dancing must’ve worked up quite the appetite. I can’t imagine the poxy inns you’ve stopped at during your travels had meals sufficient for a man of your power. You must be ravenous.”

Darshan smiled. Hamish wasn’t sure how his husband managed to seemingly detach the expression from his face, but the sight prickled his skin. “I think I’ll pass, dear half-sister.”

“But isn’t quail your favourite?” Onella pressed. “Did all those stodgy meals up north affect your palate?” She leant closer to one of the men flanking her and continued on in a loud whisper. “I hear they do ghastly things like stuff sheep stomachs and eat them.”

“They do indeed,” Katarina piped up as grumbles of distaste trembled along the table. “And the stomachs of cows and pigs.”

“There’s little from an animal we dinnae eat or use,” Hamish added, ferocious pride for his homeland’s self-sufficiency puffing his chest. “And what’s left goes to feed our dogs and pigs. We dinnae let a thing go to waste.”

“Clearly, trade relations with a superior people isn’t listed as one of those things.” Onella sipped at her wine, her gaze boring into him. “But I suppose you’re not privy to such matters, being dead and all.”

A woman part way down the table flung her head back and guffawed.

“He seems very lively for a dead man,” pointed out the woman sitting next to her as her neighbour continued to wheeze.

“Clearly not in the literal sense,” Onella said, her gaze remaining firmly on Hamish. “But it would seem that the news of how the current queen of Tirglas disowned her younger son hasn’t reached all present company.”

Darshan straightened in his chair. “Has it not?” He took up his glass and tapped his forefinger against it, waiting whilst a servant topped up the wine. “What is the rumour mill coming to if it cannot keep up with such trivial concerns?”

About the Author 

Aldrea Alien is an award-winning, bisexual author of fantasy romance with varying heat levels. Born and raised in New Zealand, she lives on a small farm with her family, including a menagerie of animals, who are all convinced they’re just as human as the next person. Especially the cats. Since discovering a love of writing at the age of twelve, she hasn’t found an ounce of peace from the characters plaguing her mind with all of them clamouring for her to tell their story first.

Social Media Links

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BLOG TOUR: “A Soul Unbroken” by A.D. Britten. Rafflercopter Giveaway Included!

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Book Title: A Soul Unbroken

Author: A.D.
Britten

Publisher:
Self-Published

Original Release Date: May 26, 2019 – Recently re-edited

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 412
pages

It is a standalone
book

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

A hustler’s life drastically
changes after he enters a homeless shelter.

Blurb

Joey Christopher has never had an easy life, but living with
Allen made everything better. His mere presence made Joey happy and made life seem
more manageable despite Allen’s serious faults. However, when Allen is arrested during a
drug bust Joey must learn to live on his own for the first time. He even spends some time in
a homeless shelter, while he does everything possible to get Allen home to return to the life
they once lived only better.

Excerpt

For the rest of that day Joey told himself that he wouldn’t
go to Gary’s party; he couldn’t go. He meant to take the card out and tear it up before
leaving work, but forgot. When he got home later that night he meant to take it out and rip
it up, but he was so tired that he just got ready for bed and went to sleep. The end of the
week came and the card was still there in his jeans pocket. He happened to wear the same
pair of jeans that Friday that he had worn on the day of Gary’s visit. Joey took a deep breath
as the last customer left and he went through the store rearranging misplaced books on the
shelf and tidying up the store. At around 5:30pm, Mr. Griffin came out of his office and told
Joey that he could go home early. He would finish up.

The next day was going to be busy with another book
signing and Joey was going to be the only person that morning. The older woman who had
worked there last time, Mr. Griffin’s cousin, could not make it there until later in the
day.

So Joey left the store and told himself he was going home
and he meant to go home. But somehow he found himself at 7 pm standing on Gary’s
porch, one of the first to arrive at his party. He lived at the same address he always had. As
soon as Gary looked through the peephole and saw Joey standing at his door, he opened it
and invited him in.

Joey, looking a little uncertain, walked in. He had not taken
two steps when Gary drew him close and planted a long and ardent kiss on his lips. Joey was
surprised by it but didn’t resist. It had been so long that although he was never deeply
attracted to Gary, he relished the feeling. “It’s been a long time, Joey,” Gary said afterwards.
Joey wanted the kiss to continue, against his better judgement, but Gary’s attention turned
to the room. It was then that he noticed some of the familiar faces in the living room and
kitchen, all people from Gary’s small publishing house.

“Hi, how are you?” Madeline said smiling. She was sitting at
the dining table with a few other people, a man and a woman, with whom she had been
talking. She raised a glass of wine to Joey, having recognized him from the earlier party. Joey
wanted to melt. He suddenly realized that it had been a long time since he’d had any
alcohol. Why on earth was he being so celibate about everything now? He asked Gary for a
glass of wine, which he dutifully poured for him, until a previously unseen large, fluffy, gray
cat hopped up on the table, spilling the bottle in the process.

“Awwwww!” Madeline said, standing up to avoid the spill.
“Silly cat!”

Gary went to the kitchen to get some paper towels.

Joey stood there, a little stunned. “You have a cat?” he
asked.

“Yes, what’s wrong? Are you allergic?” Gary asked

concerned.

“No,” Joey replied. “You just don’t seem the cat
type.”

“Well, he’s the last remains of Hollis, an old boyfriend,”
Gary said with a slight weariness to his voice.

Madeline picked up the now mostly empty wine bottle and
went to the sideboard to replace it, while Gary and another guest continued to clean up the
mess. “I told you, you should’ve gotten rid of him,” Madeline playfully chastised. “As soon as
he was gone, that cat should have been gone too. Why keep memories of Hollis around
anyway? You’re over him now, or so you say.”

Gary just smiled at Joey as he got up from the floor, threw
away the red, wet paper towels and took Joey by the hand, leading him to the back of the
house where Gary’s bedroom was.

About the Author

A.D. Britten is a published
author of various short stories, articles, and two novels.

Author Links

Blog/Website
| Twitter: @ADBritten1

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