BOOK BLAST: “How to Bed a Millionaire” by Dieter Moitzi

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: How to Bed a Millionaire

Author: Dieter Moitzi

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Dieter Moitzi

Release Date: July 7, 2021

Genre: Light M/M Summer Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, millionaire and poor student, summer romance

Themes: romance, love, comedy, summer, French Riviera, ritzy

Heat Rating: 1-2 flames

Length: 70 309 words/ 247 pages

This is book #1 of the Light Hearts Trilogy 

 Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Kobo

A sunny-funny summer romance, first in the Light Hearts Trilogy

Blurb

Take a scrawny French student and a hunky housekeeper; put them in a swanky summer villa; add a pink car named Sean and a ruggedly handsome delivery man—and voilà a sunny-funny summer romance.

Twenty-year-old Trevor is overjoyed. An Australian millionaire offers him the summer job of his dreams: to catalog the library of his summer house in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat—one of the ritziest and most exclusive spots on the Côte d’Azur.

What unnerves him, however, is the presence of a young housekeeper who turns out to be as drop-dead gorgeous as he is stilted, obnoxious, and conspicuously straight. Of course, Trevor’s quirky sass and light-hearted banter soon create an atmosphere of crackling tension between the two men.

What if the housekeeper isn’t as straight as Trevor thinks? What if Trevor is just the kind of person that housekeeper has been looking for all his life? And what if things aren’t exactly what they seem?

Excerpt 

Here’s the thing: Dirk is a slut. 

No, scratch that. Dirk is the slut. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m saying this fondly. But it’s a fact, and he owns it. He thinks monogamy is the name of a board game.

We hooked up two years ago, you see. That’s when I learned about Dirk being a slut. The hard way. To call ours a brief affair would be an understatement. To say I was crushed when it was over before it had even begun, another. That’s because I’m a hopeless romantic. Meaning that after our first shag—which incidentally turned out to be our last one—I was ready to publish the banns.

Dirk, not so much.

To his defense, he never hides his sluttiness. He’s even very outspoken about it. Gives you the proper warning right from the start. I remember, when we had both climaxed and were mopping up the evidence glistening on our bodies, he told me casually, “Phew—that was great, Tyler!”

“Trevor.”

“Oh. Right. Trevor. By the way—don’t fall in love with me.”

My reaction consisted of… a great blank. I was speechless. Probably because falling in love was exactly what I’d had in mind.

Oblivious to my emotional turmoil, he went on to explain. “I don’t do long-term relationships. Why, I don’t even do short-term relationships. I normally just, you know, fuck. No strings attached, no follow-ups included.”

I nodded like a robot.

“But I think I like you. We should stay friends, shouldn’t we?”

We shook hands that had shaken other body parts some mere minutes ago, and I left with a poker face. Only back in my tiny, tiny flat did I burst into tears.

Eventually, I got over him. It took me a week, to be precise. Not because I have a heart of stone, but because Dirk made sure my suffering wouldn’t last longer. He did so by calling me several times over the next few days, initiating his habit of informing me in crudest detail about his latest conquests.

After a week, I stated, “You’re such a slut, Dirk.”

“Why, how sweet of you!” he replied, sincerely flattered.

He single-handedly cured me of my romantic streak, then and there. I’m still looking for Mr. Darcy, all right. You don’t change so radically overnight, or overfuck as it were. But I’ve stopped fancying myself in love each time I get laid. Although Dirk thinks otherwise, that happens occasionally. Even blind chickens pick up a grain from time to time, as they say.

Dirk is German, by the way. And he has this annoyingly attractive all-German boy thing going. You know, thick blond hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones, mischievous smile. He’s tall and well built, with bulging muscles and no body fat to speak of. He doesn’t even work out, which, I mean, how unjust can life get? Oh, he’s also very well endowed, if memory serves me. 

In other words, he’s a hung hunk. The guy who has it all and enjoys it, as he should.

What about me, you ask? Good question. I’m just your average dude. No one would describe me as hunky. For starters, I’m rather on the slender side. No, make that thin. Zero muscles embellishing my frame, no broad shoulders, just scrawniness wherever you look. I repeat, I do get laid. Some guys out there have a skinny kink, and what can I say? Lucky me.

My best features? Let me think. My eyes, maybe. They’re emerald green and come as a surprise because my hair is dark and my complexion, too. Cappuccino-ish. Americans with their fondness for all things binary and clear-cut would call me black. My mom is American, and darker than I, so I should know. Namely because she calls me black, but hey, that’s Mom.

Here in Europe I’d pass as a Mediterranean guy if it weren’t for the thick lips—“Perfect suck-me-off-lips” according to Dirk—and the very distinctive frizzy hair. The lips are okay. Whether they’re particularly suited for blowjobs or Dirk just had one of his racist moments isn’t for me to say. Never had any complaints in the oral department if you want the truth.

And my hair, well, I just love it the way it is. Hardly ever cut it, going for the good, ole Afro style. You can do so many cool things with a nice Afro, especially now guys have discovered that a man-bun is a thing.

Oh, talking about features I like about myself—let’s not forget my bum. The best thing I inherited from my mom’s far-away African ancestors, it’s firm and bouncy. Wet dreams material for gays with a bum fixation. This may come as a surprise to you, but they’re not in short supply.

Back to Dirk if you will. He’s great fun to have around: bitchy, lively, not a care in the world. Plus, he’s fiercely loyal to his friends. In a way. His way. That’s why he suggested me as his replacement for the Kinner job as soon as he had decided he’d prefer to spend his summer months with his aunt in Greece. That freaky woman has just invested her latest inheritance to buy a house somewhere on the Peloponnese coast and invited him to join her. 

“I simply can’t say no,” he told me. “Think of the beautiful landscapes. And the sea. And the food.”

“Think of the beautiful Greek guys,” I muttered.

“Exactly,” he replied. “So, will you go and meet that lady for the interview? Please?”

“All right. I’ll do it.”

I don’t know what shaky lie he told Mademoiselle Destrelle, and I’m not sure I want to know. I’m just glad she didn’t bring it up because there’s a chance Dirk’s mother is supposed to be fatally ill again. So far, she has recovered at least a dozen times from ailments as far-fetched as jugular fever and acute fartinosis. I kid you not. Try to keep a straight face when something like that comes up in a job interview!

About the Author 

Born in the early 70s, I grew up in a little village in Austria. At the age of 18, I moved to Vienna to get my master’s degree in Political Sciences, French, and Spanish. Today, I’m living in Paris, France, with my boyfriend and work as a graphic designer. 

In my spare time, I write, read, cook fancy recipes, take photos, and as often as I can, I travel (Italy, Portugal, Morocco, Egypt, the UK, and many more places). My literary tastes are eclectic, ranging from fantasy, murder mysteries, gay romances to dystopian novels, but I won’t say no to poetry or a history book either. I’m more a hoodie/jeans/sneakers kind of guy than a suit-and-tie chap. 

So far, I’ve published two short-story collections as well as four poetry collections. My first murder mystery novel “The Stuffed Coffin” has been released on January 6, 2019 and is also available in German and French. The French version has won the prestigious French Gay Murder Mystery Award 2019 (Prix du roman policier – Prix du roman gay 2019). My second novel “Till Death Do Us Part” was released on June 24, 2020. You can also find me on Rainbow Book Reviews, where I write book reviews under the pseudonym of ParisDude (for French reviews, have a look at my review site livresgay.fr). 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook

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BOOK BLAST: “The Dead Don’t Lie” by Annie Russo. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included.

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Dead Don’t Lie

Author: Anne Russo

Publisher: JMS Books 

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs 

Release Date: 3/13/21

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, Suspense, Thriller, Action-Adventure

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Love, Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Found Families

Themes: Death & Dying, Betrayal, Love & Sacrifice, Family, Guilt & Loss 

Heat Rating: 4 flames  

Length: 75 000 words/250 pages

This is the first book in a series and features an unresolved ending/cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |   Apple

Barnes & Noble  |  Bookstrand  |  Google Play

Kobo  |  Scribd  |  Smashwords

Blurb

While young doctor Adam Morrow resigns himself to an uninformed existence, world-weary assassin Ian Abbott struggles with a life he never asked for. When the two strangers meet by chance, the attraction is immediate. And deadly, as Adam walks in on Ian in the middle of a hit.

The situation spirals out of control once Ian discovers he and Adam share a connection far more profound than either imagined. Shocked by the discovery, Ian makes the hasty decision to kidnap him.

Overnight Adam is torn from his promising career and a family who believes him dead. Things go from bad to worse when he finds himself reunited with a mother he never knew who is now head of a covert and shadowy group of killers for hire. Forced into joining their ranks, with Ian as his reluctant trainer and handler, Adam is given a series of impossible tasks to complete.

To survive, he must fight with everything he has to keep his life, his sanity, and his very soul from being swept up in a violent and chaotic world even as he battles his unwanted and complicated feelings for Ian.

For his part, Ian, a man with dark secrets of his own, has a past he isn’t ready to share with Adam even as the other man worms into his life in more ways than one. The two grow closer and lines blur — between good and evil, friend or foe, enemy or lover. But something, or someone, plots against them, determined to do everything in their power to keep them apart. Even if it means destroying them both.

Trigger Warning: This story contains a brief scene of sexual assault and features an unresolved ending/cliffhanger.

Excerpt 

Assignment completed, Ian glanced down at his coat, noticing a few questionable stains even black couldn’t hide. Sighing, he stepped into the adjacent bathroom for a quick wash. He was cleaning off the excess blood splatter when he heard the door open. He stopped and listened as a curious voice called out, “Hello?”

Ian reached for his handgun, quiet as he slid it into his hand. He edged forward, waiting for his visitor to discover Mr. Mallory was no longer among the living. Ian didn’t have long to wait.

“Jesus Christ,” the visitor swore, taking several steps backward where Ian waited in the shadows. Once he was close enough, Ian pressed the gun’s muzzle into the back of his head, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Even in the darkened room, Ian knew he looked familiar. “Turn around.”

Slowly, the man turned toward him, shaking. Ian didn’t miss the shock of recognition when he saw who held him at gunpoint.

“Yeah, I remember you too. This is unfortunate,” Ian remarked and meant it. He didn’t relish putting a bullet right between those pretty eyes, but he’d seen his face. Not once. But twice now. And, unfortunately, he’d have to die for it.

“Wait,” the young doctor urged, his hands in the air. “You don’t have to shoot me.”

No crying. No begging. A statement. The doctor even met Ian’s eye when he said it. Ian couldn’t help but admire this guy’s guts. A shame he had to kill him, but he didn’t have a choice. His finger twitched on the trigger.

“I’m afraid I do,” Ian answered, glancing at his name tag. “Dr. Adam Morrow,” he whispered under his breath, the name hitting like a sucker punch to the gut. “Your name is Adam Morrow?”

“Yeah, that’s my — why?”

Ian wasn’t listening, rendered speechless as he studied the man. Pieces were clicking together in a hail of memories, memories he fought for years to keep hidden. Now they came rising to the surface one by one, swifter than he could recall them. All tied to the image of a child’s face. A child whose cheerful grin and name, Adam Morrow, had haunted him for the last fourteen years.

Ian snapped into the present. He charged forth, seizing him by the arm. Adam tried to shake him off as he propelled him toward the windows. Meager light from outside street lamps was enough to spy the lingering traces of that boy. One whose existence itself had been a terrible mystery he’d never wanted to delve too deep into, terrified of the answer awaiting him on the other side.

“Look at me!” he ordered, pressing the muzzle under Adam’s chin.

Adam hesitated but didn’t have much say so with a gun buried in his throat. One glance and the truth slammed into Ian like a bolt of lightning. A sweeping recognition. His eyes told him the entire story in an instant. They were remarkable, dark green, and flecked with gold, memorable —her eyes. There was no way he’d be able to kill him. Not now. The implications of his discovery growing as they sized up the other, each of them unsure what to do next.

“Who the hell are you?” Adam asked, low and shaky.

“Who the hell are you?” Ian countered.

About the Author

Anne makes her home in Connecticut with her wonderful and ever-so-patient partner. A lifelong reader, writer, and curious student, Anne hopes to create exciting multi-dimensional characters and worlds but with a queer sensibility. The Dead Don’t Lie is the first book in the Dead Generations series and her first novel.

Social Media Links

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BOOK BLAST: “Strapped for Cash” by K.L. Heirs. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included.

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Strapped For Cash

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Stormy Night Publications

Cover Artist: Korey Mae Johnson

Genres: Contemporary BDSM MM Mafia Romance

Tropes: Co-workers to Lovers, Sex Before Love, Master and Slave, D/S

Themes: Betrayal and Revenge, Never Know Who Your Real Friends Are

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 107 000 words/414 pages

It is a standalone book, but the author recommends the others since this is a prequel

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

After the Luchesi mafia family betrays him, assassin Mickey Tamerlane joins with gangster Boss Cold to seek revenge. But as they maneuver to take out their enemies and claim control over the city’s underworld, Mickey finds himself distracted by the newest member of Cold’s crew.

Cocky and handsome, Roger Lorre pushes Mickey’s buttons until Mickey pushes back hard.

Hard enough to hurt.

But no matter how well-used and sore he leaves Roger, once isn’t going to be enough for either of them.

Not even close.

Publisher’s Note: Strapped for Cash is a prequel to Cold Hard Cash and Hard Earned Cash. It includes spankings and rough, intense sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Excerpt

“Don Luchesi is dead.”

“How?” Mickey blurted out.

“Murdered in his very own home,” Cold replied. “I have been waiting years for the old man to kill himself with a heart attack, but someone else decided to speed his demise along. Though I am grateful, this means that certain plans are going to be put into action much sooner than I expected.”

“The city,” Crybaby said, her eyes wide. “We’re takin’ it. We’re gonna do it.”

“Yes,” Cold confirmed. “With your help, my dear Gentlemen, the city is finally going to be ours.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jules cheered.

“Who killed the Don?” Duncan asked quietly.

“I do not know.” Cold seemed a little annoyed at that fact. “But that will actually end up working to our advantage.”

“How?”

“Because if I don’t know, it means the Luchesis don’t know.” Cold leaned forward, his usually calm face lit up with excitement. “The most likely suspects are his three sons, Cristian, Luigi, and Matteo. The Don had yet to name an heir, and there will most certainly be a struggle for power.”

“The ring,” Mickey recalled. “He didn’t pass on that stupid ring.”

“Precisely,” Cold said. “Matteo was favored to take his father’s place, but his brothers are hungry for it, too. This also works to our advantage.”

“What do we do?” Crybaby asked eagerly. “Kill ‘em?”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but no,” Cold drawled. “They’re about to do their own killing, and we’re going to help them right along.” He looked to Mickey. “Do you remember when you were so kind as to discover Tony Luchesi’s nasty theft?”

“Yeah,” Mickey replied. “What about it?”

“Well, it turns out he was stealing that money to help fund Cristian’s future claim to the throne.” Cold pursed his lips. “Such a shame.”

“The bar… it was Luigi’s, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Cold confirmed. “Piece by piece, we’re going to turn the three brothers against one another. The family will split apart. Everyone will try to pick a side, and the three darling siblings will each be attempting to make the best case for themselves while valiantly trying to murder the others.”

“Chaos,” Alistair said with a knowing nod. “It’s going to be total and complete chaos.”

“You knew this was going to happen,” Mickey accused. “You knew the Don hadn’t picked an heir and was going to die without one.”

“I knew he was arrogant enough to think he wasn’t going to die anytime soon and foolish enough not to listen to his doctors,” Cold said. “The chances of him dying prematurely without settling his affairs was very likely. I had planned to use his death to propel our takeover of the city. I did not expect, however, for him to be murdered.”

“I call that a fuckin’ bonus.” Jules laughed. “Them stupid ass brothers are gonna be at each other’s fuckin’ throats thinkin’ one of them killed Daddy.”

“So.” Jerry perked up. “What is our first move, Monsieur Cold? What would you have us do?”

“Everything we need is right here under this roof,” Cold replied, offering a coy smile.

“You know we’re in a gay bar, right?” Duncan asked in a loud whisper.

“Yes.” Cold looked irritated. “There is a young man who works here at night as a dancer. He goes by the name ‘Galavant.’ He also washes dishes over at Ragazzi’s.”

“How is a dishwasher gonna help?”

“That restaurant is the Luchesi’s big honey pot,” Jules replied, eyeing Duncan until he cowered. “Galavant is our fuckin’ way in. Payroll for all the drugs, brothels, and illegal type businesses gets banked there.”

“How much?” Mickey asked.

“Millions,” Cold replied, looking very pleased with himself. “The Luchesis are arrogant enough to believe no one would dare steal from them. That arrogance is going to be their undoing. First, we take their money. Next, we’re going to take their drugs. The bouncer here, Reggie? His mother is a maid at one of the hotels the Luchesis run as a brothel. They use the basement there to prepare their product before distribution.”

“So, we’re gonna take their drugs?” Pym perked up.

“No.”

Pym pouted and sank back down in his chair.

“We’re going to tip off the police to the location and allow them to have the glory of the biggest drug bust this city has ever seen. It’s a little gift to our friend Officer Carville for his very timely payments. He’ll look so fetching on the front page. Might even be chief one day. We’re also going to make sure the police’s anonymous source is identified as a member of the Luchesi family.”

“We take out the money, the drugs, okay, but what about the judges? All the politicians?” Crybaby frowned. “We don’t own any of them. We barely own any cops.”

“Never fear,” Cold soothed. “Once the blood starts filling the streets, they’ll come to us. They won’t have a choice. We’re going to be their safe harbor from the storm, you see. They won’t care who’s in charge as long as peace is established. And if not… well.” He smirked slyly. “I have other ways.”

“Okay.” Mickey grinned. “So, when do we start?”

“Soon. You, Jules, and our newest member will be going.” Cold waved to Alistair.

Alistair left his perch on the desk to open the door, gesturing for someone to come in.

Mickey turned to see who it was, and he couldn’t hide his shock.

That son of a bitch…

It was the crazy guy from the gas station.

“This is Roger Lorre,” Cold said. “He is a talented little thief and an expert safecracker. He will be accompanying you to Ragazzi’s. Say hello, Mr. Lorre.”

“Hello, boys,” Roger said, his eyes immediately focusing on Mickey. “Well, hi there. Long time, no see.”

Mickey gritted his teeth.

Cold glanced between them. “Am I to assume you’ve already met Mickey Tamerlane then?”

“Mickey, huh?” Roger grinned crookedly at him, whistling low. “Mm, and aren’t you just so fine.”

About the Author

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

Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her 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 | Newsletter Sign-up

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$0.99 BOOK BLAST: “Crystal’s House of Queers” by Brooke Skipstone. $20.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

99c BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Crystal’s House of Queers

Author: Brooke
Skipstone

Publisher: Skipstone
Publishing

Cover Artist: Cherie Chapman
@ccbookdesign

Release Date: May 24,
2021

Genres: LGBTQ Fiction, Lesbian Fiction/Suspense, Lesbian Romance,
Coming of age

Tropes: Friends to lovers, found family, power femme

Themes: Forgiveness, no secrets, overcoming past abuse, fight because
we love

Heat Rating: 3 – 3.5
flames

Length: 93 000 words/ 330
pages

It is a standalone
story.

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Buy Links – Also available in Kindle Unlimited

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Three senior girls in rural
Alaska escape their abusive pasts by raising their dyke flag for themselves and their
community.

Blurb

Crystal Rose woke up at three in the morning today,
drenched in sweat and breathless after another sex dream with Haley Carson.
Later at school in the
tiny town of Clear, Alaska, Crystal saves Haley from an assault by her abusive
boyfriend.

The two girls renew a love started years ago that had to
stay hidden until now. But with Crystal’s grandparents in the hospital with Covid and the
possibility of her drug addict parents returning from a 14-year absence, Crystal needs Haley
as much as she needs Crystal.

They connect with Payton Reed, a gun-toting artist who
helps them feel proud to be gay and willing to stand up to anyone. Together they struggle to
make Crystal’s house safe for those who are hated for their love.

Excerpt

Crystal’s room is small with drawings and photos
stuck randomly all over the walls—closeups of leaves, flowers, and berries; intricate natural
designs created by Labrador tea, spider webs, and lichen; every local animal, including a
grizzly sow and two cubs digging through trashcans from this past June; sunrises and
sunsets plus northern lights; and, of course, line drawings of her house and family, along
with pages of self-portraits. Crystal’s entire world greets her every morning and evening.
Nothing is ever removed or covered, just added to, now up one corner of the ceiling. A large
white board on one wall displays a self-portrait drawing of Crystal sitting.

Haley stands in the doorway, open-mouthed, trying
to absorb it all. “Damn, Crystal, you are something. I love this.”

Crystal smiles. “I’m glad. So do I.” She opens her
closet to show Haley her clothing options, including a never-worn pair of stretch jeans
Crystal bought at Value Village in Fairbanks—a size too big for her, but a size too small for
Haley.

“I’m not sure my butt can fit into these,” says Haley,
holding the pair waist high. “You’ll have fun watching me put these on.”

“Oooh, do I get to watch?”

“Certainly.” Haley raises a brow and half smiles as
she pulls off her sweatshirt.

Crystal’s breath catches in her chest as her mouth
gapes open.

“Oops! I forgot to pick out a shirt. Can I use your
robe until I find something suitable?”

Crystal’s face reddens. “Sure.” She removes her
robe and tosses it to Haley, who then tosses it on the bed. “Now we can stare at each
other.”

Crystal licks her lips. “You are so evil.”

“I’m just getting started.” She tilts her head and
cocks a brow. “Do you like evil?”

“So far.” Though she’s afraid her heart will burst,
it’s beating so fast.

“Great.” Haley moves toward Crystal until their
chests touch. “I love your drawing on the white board. Would you do another of me? Maybe
one of us kissing?” Haley touches her lips to Crystal’s.

“Yes.” She struggles trying to pull her phone out of
her pocket while Haley rubs her tongue tip over Crystal’s bottom lip. Gasping for air, Crystal
asks, “Do you want me to take a pic or not?” Haley smiles and steps back a little. Crystal
props her phone against the mirror on her dresser and sets the timer. “We have five
seconds.”

Haley moves her hand to Crystal’s neck as they kiss.
The camera takes the picture, but they don’t separate.

After a few more seconds, Haley pulls back just
enough to speak. “You are the best kisser. Even in fifth grade I liked kissing you. Think of all
that time I wasted.”

“We have plenty of time now.” She grabs her
phone and shows Haley the photo. “I like that. I can draw it now, if you want.”

“Yes, please.”

“Hold it for me.” Crystal takes her drawing pad and
pen from her desk and sits in her chair.

Haley holds the phone against her cleavage, her
boobs hanging over her arms. “Is that good?”

Crystal stares and shakes her head. “Evil. Pure
evil!”

“Just focus on the photo, Crystal.” Haley slowly
sways her torso, making her boobs jiggle close to Crystal’s face. “Can’t you focus?” Her voice
drips with seduction.

Crystal clears her throat and closes her eyes. “I
think I can. I think I can.” She takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and places her pen on the
paper. Haley sways faster. Crystal starts a line then runs it off the page. “Can you please stop
moving?” she pleads, unable to turn away from Haley’s breasts. “Just for a few minutes?”
She rips off the page and readies another.

Her voice coy, sweet, and sultry—“As you wish. I’ll
stand perfectly still.” She holds the camera away from her body, partially covering her
breasts.

Crystal starts a line under her chin, sweeps down to
make hair, then her face and lips before moving to Haley’s lips, hair, and then ending with
her hand. She stares at the drawing for a few seconds then turns it around. “What do you
think?”

“Oh, my god! I love it. We look good together.” She
gives Crystal a kiss. “Thank you. Thank you.”

About the Author

Brooke Skipstone is a
multi-award-winning author who lives in Alaska where she watches the mountains change

colors with the seasons from her balcony. Where she feels the constant rush toward winter
as the sunlight wanes for six months of the year, seven minutes each day, bringing crushing
cold that lingers even as the sun climbs again. Where the burst of life during summer is
urgent under twenty-four-hour daylight, lush and decadent. Where fish swim hundreds of
miles up rivers past bear claws and nets and wheels and lines of rubber-clad combat fishers,
arriving humped and ragged, dying as they spawn. Where danger from the land and its
animals exhilarates the senses, forcing her to appreciate the difference between life and
death. Where the edge between is sometimes too alluring.

Crystal’s House of Queers
is her third novel.

Visit her
website
for information about her first two
novels,
Some Laneys Died and Someone To Kiss
My Scars.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Instagram

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BOOK BLAST: “Young King Arthur and the Round Table Knights” by Siryn Sueng

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Young King Arthur and the Round Table Knights

Author: Siryn
Sueng

Publisher: Deep Hearts YA

Release Date: September 18,
2020

Genre/s: Fantasy, M/M YA Romance

Trope/s: First Love, Arthurian Legend

Themes: Coming of Age, Knights

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 68 322 words/ 270
pages

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Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Smashwords | Apple Books |
B&N | Kobo

 

Arthur grew up a peasant,
but when he was fourteen, Excalibur chose him, and now as King Arthur, he must learn to
play the game of royalty quickly … or suffer the consequences.

 

Blurb

There was no reason for Arthur to think he would ever
become king.

A peasant and son of a baker, Arthur grew up in the castle
town of Camelot. When he attended the choosing ceremony, it was merely to see who
would draw the Holy Sword, Excalibur – to see who would inherit the throne of the recently
departed King Uther. He never expected the sword would choose him…

But it did.

Now, at the young age of fourteen, he has become King
Arthur, and for all the power he has gained, he has made just as many enemies. Surrounded
by the Knights of the Round Table, and led by the mysterious mage, Merlin, Arthur is
grateful for his allies, though he would just as soon return to his old life. Surely, someone
more worthy should be chosen as king.

Arthur is in the middle of chaos, a world where everyone
wants more than they let on, where many hate the idea of a young boy with no noble
background being crowned king; where cold stares and whispered words are just as sharp as
an assassin’s blade.

As Arthur fends for his life, he must draw on the strength of
his knights, especially fifteen-year-old Mordred, who becomes closer to him than the mere
bounds of duty. He must become king, not just in name, but in his heart.

And he must do it quickly, because his enemies want more
than just his crown…

 

Excerpt

Two days had passed since I’d pulled the sword free—since becoming King. On the first full
day within the castle, Merlin had found me wandering the halls and dragged me back to my
room to be fitted for an outrageous amount of clothing. We discussed Illian.

Merlin assured me that he was being treated well within the dungeons, despite his cold
attitude that he gave to everyone. Nothing would be done to him without my consultation.
That fact only added more weight.

He also brought up his conversation with my mother and the letter I should expect. The day
after, I received it. She’d expressed her worries, but also her love and support. She praised
me, and though I knew it was meant as encouragement, it only made me more wary and
frightened. My station as King was not something to take so lightly—even if she had all the
confidence in the world. I tried to reply, but nothing I wrote seemed fitting. Rather, it all
seemed more like complaints and childish pleading. It wasn’t something I wanted to send to
her, not after having her praise me.

Within the mirror, the striking blue doublet that covered me looked even more out of place
as I thought about my mother’s letter. The kingly raiment I now wore wasn’t the only one. I
had a rich dark purple one, a red one, a light blue, and a solid black. And to think, those
were just for me to wear when I wasn’t in the throne room! All the different clothes were
going to make my head explode.

“Yes, he did a wonderful job,” Elias said. “Perfect fit. Of course, he is the best tailor in the
lands. Only the best for our King.” He stepped back from me and bowed.

“I don’t need the best,” I said softly, but Elias caught it.

“I suppose it’s good to know that you haven’t drowned in the riches, but at the same time
you do need to look the part at least.”

I turned to look out the window. The sea burst against the cliff side, throwing water in a
violent display of white foam. I watched the waves for a moment longer, knowing that I
needed to get going. I was stalling because I was nervous about meeting the knights. What
were they going to think of me? I was young, and a peasant. No royal blood flowed through
my veins.

I chewed on my lower lip. Elias touched my arm. I looked over at him. He didn’t say
anything, but he didn’t have to. I nodded and followed him out of the room and into the
large corridor.

We left the castle and crossed from the tree-lined grounds into the gardens. The smells of
the flowers permeated my senses. I took a deep breath. The scents calmed some of my
nerves.

Ahead of us on the other side of the castle grounds stood the Knights’ Tower, where they all
resided. The tower was imposing, dark in color, and vines crawled up the sides of the rocks.
Windows lined the entire building, spiraling up to the top. Elias led me to the tower’s set of
wooden doors and bowed to me.

“This is as far as I can go, Your Majesty.”

My heart clenched and ice shot through my chest. I was going to be alone with the knights.
Terror flooded me and I began to tremble. Elias touched my arm again. I focused on him. He
smiled and the gentle look helped me relax.

“You will be just fine, my lord. They might be rough around the edges, but they’re loyal and

actually very nice.”

“Okay. I’ll be just fine. Thank you, Elias. I’ll see you later.”

He bowed and left me standing in front of the doors. I contemplated leaving and hiding in
the library. I turned and took a step forward—right into a warm body. With a startled gasp, I
stumbled back and bowed forward as I squeaked, “Forgive me! I didn’t see you there! I’m
sorry I ran into you!”

The one who I had run into snickered and I recognized that tone well. I looked up to see
Merlin smirking at me. My heart fell like it had become a lump of lead. I stared at him as he
laughed at me. I could feel a hot blush creeping across my face.

“My, my. You’re a King now, my lord. You don’t bow to anyone. So, what is it that has you
cowering before the Knights’ Tower? Are you intimidated by them?” Merlin seemed a little
more welcoming, but I still didn’t like the look on his face. It seemed like he was scrutinizing
me beneath his outward demeanor.

I turned back to the double doors and swallowed dryly. “They won’t approve of me.”

“Not everyone will. But that’s what it means to be king. No one is loved on their first day on
the throne. Everyone questions the new crown; that is simply how it is. It takes time to earn
trust and loyalty. You will earn it. But…if you do nothing, then you will have nothing.”

His words shook me. The mage was right. I understood then why he was the advisor to the
King of Camelot. He knew what he was talking about. Despite being condescending at times,
he was truly helpful.

“I can’t avoid everything, and why should I? Thank you, Merlin.”

He bowed to me. “Of course, Your Majesty. It’s what I’m here for. So, shall we?”

“Yes.”

I turned around and pulled the door open.

 

About the Author

Siryn Sueng is a writer of
fantasy, paranormal, and even Sci-Fi genres. She’s married to a wonderful husband with a
minion of two years. They have a full house with three adorable fur babies, Anubis -the
mighty cat hunter- Kida -the momma bear- and Mishka -the loveable husky-.

Siryn is a lover of games on a
wide range of platforms. She plays on the PC, console, and hand-held devices including the
phone. Japan is where she would love to visit sometime and is a huge inspiration to many of
her projects. She’s a huge fan of Japan, including manga and anime. Siryn has even begun to
dabble in comic/manga script writing. Future works in this will be posted on
WebToon.

 

Social Media Links

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BOOK BLAST: “Tik Tok No” by Lucy Ravens

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Tik Tok No

Author: Lucy Ravens

Cover Artist: Chandra Trulove Fry

Release Date: February 23, 2021

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: Friends to lovers

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 40 000 words/98 pages

It is a standalone story

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Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

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Can I turn my best friend into more in front of thousands of followers?

 

Blurb

Will

Lucas Bentley has been in my life almost as long as I can remember.

The boy next door. My sister’s short fling. My best friend.

And while we have been inseparable like brothers for years now, I have been loving him at a distance in my heart this whole time. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a tatted, skateboarding bad boy from my dreams.

Now that we’re adults, I want to be out of the friend zone, but after putting myself there for damn near 20 years, I’m not sure he will ever see me another way.

So, like the lovesick fool I am, I’m going to show him how I feel with an audience of thousands and hope I don’t crash and burn back into the friend zone.

If you love it when best friends become more, big romantic gestures, a new kind of bromance, and lots of sarcasm, scroll up to start the first book in the Friend Zone series!

 

Excerpt

The heartfelt words slip out of my mouth on their own. I only meant to think them. Saying them out loud isn’t at all what I want. It is foolish at best. I can only hope that I didn’t speak loud enough for Will to understand my words.

Of course, I’m not that lucky. I know that because he is frozen in place with a deer in headlights look in his eyes. As the moments pass his expression changes a thousand times. He goes from shock to fear to confusion to sadness to desire, and then starts the cycle all over again. It’s difficult for me to watch. It’s my fault he’s so freaked out.

“What did you say?” he eventually chokes out through lips that don’t appear to move.

“I think you heard me,” I boldly reply. I stand up tall to face him down with the truth for once.

“What does it mean?” he asks, intently gazing into my eyes as if searching my brain for answers.

“You know that, too,” I say with a crooked smile, not even trying to hide from his searching gaze.

The tension in the room gets thicker by the moment. We don’t speak. There’s just a staring contest and a battle against giving in to desire. The room is growing hot. One of us is bound to break. It’s inevitable.

Will takes the first halting step in my direction, and the battle is lost. We collide like freight trains on the same track. Our chests bang together taking our breath away. Neither of us seems to care about whether we can breathe or not. There’s no reason to. We’ve got each other.

Our lips meet in a heated exchange. This is no ordinary kiss, nor is it soft and gentle. Instead it’s demanding, overwhelming, intense, and almost as physically draining as an MMA fight. Our mouths open wide to let the other gain entrance. Tongues battle for supremacy; twisting and turning inside the wetness of our cheeks. Will bites my bottom lip, and I taste the drop of blood that rises from the tiny wound. I gasp with intense joy as he sucks at the droplet, and he growls.

Will is leaning into me. His weight grows heavy against me. I can’t stand in place or hold myself steady. Suddenly, he’s pushing me backwards, and I slam into the wall. I hit it hard, but I like the power he’s using against me. It’s a turn-on. I’m filled with excitement and need. This is a whole new Will. I’ve never seen him like this. I revel in his strength and power.

He holds my arms in a tight grip. They are plastered to the wall. I can’t move, and I really don’t want to. I will let him do whatever he wishes to me. I need him to control me. At the moment, he’s ravaging my lips. I don’t fight back. I take everything he’s giving and savor it. I pray he never comes to his senses. I want more which scares me in a delightful way.

 

About the Author

A Mommy, vampire fanatic, Harry Potter nerd, and hopeless romantic are just a few of the things to describe the enigmatic personality of one, Lucy Ravens. A long time author with two bestselling pen names, she has now expanded into the MM universe after she read some of her first MM rom coms and fell in love with how they can be romantic, sweet, and sexy all at once in a way contemporary romance for MF couples has somehow lost. She hopes to bring all her quirks over to this pen name to entertain readers and make them swoon!

 

Social Media Links

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BOOK BLAST: “Love Him Hate Him” by Chris Bedell. $25 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway!

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Love Him/Hate Him

Author: Chris Bedell

Publisher: Between the Lines Publishing

Release Date: February 16, 2021

Genre: YA LGBTQ Thriller

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 185 print pages

It is a standalone story.

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Connor is out. Liam is the secretly gay football player. Together they must navigate a hush-hush relationship while working together to solve the murder of Liam’s sister.

 

Blurb

17-year-old Connor doesn’t believe his best friend’s death was an accident. Falling down the stairs was random, and Connor can’t help but wonder if someone might’ve pushed her…

Determined to find out the truth, Connor starts his own investigation. Along the way, he discovers Evelyn’s affair with a married man and thought she was pregnant before she died. Connor thinks he’s found her killer, but an airtight alibi forces him to look in a new direction. Perhaps closer to home.

Complicating the situation more is Connor’s own secret – an unexpected hook up with Evelyn’s twin brother, Liam, at a party the previous spring. Afterward, Liam goes on a homophobic rant and punches Connor, leaving him confused. His confusion deepens when, after Evelyn’s death, Liam apologizes and they start to hook up secretly.

Liam is trapped between his attraction to Connor and his abusive father. Connor struggles with his growing attraction for Liam. Their secret rendezvous are fun, but if Connor is going to have more with Liam, he’ll have to be honest about his feelings and his suspicions on who killed Evelyn. Will either survive the truth coming out?

 

Excerpt

I left the hair salon the following evening.

A faint chill permeated the air, and the waxiness of the full moon glinted against the ground, providing extra lighting while I walked to my Mercedes.

Normally, I wouldn’t have picked a 7:00 P.M. appointment, but it was all the hair salon had had on such short notice.

“The fuck you doing at a hair salon?” someone called.

I whipped my body around. Liam stood about ten feet from me.

“I’ve gotta go.” I pulled out my car keys, then grabbed the car door handle.

“Please don’t leave,” he pleaded.

I looked over my shoulder, meeting his eyes. “Why would I do you any favors?”

“Because I wanted to apologize.”

Wow. Lucky me, getting two surprises in less than a week. First Evelyn’s death, now this. The only difference was that there was a chance this surprise would be wanted.

 

About the Author

Chris Bedell’s previous publishing credits include Thought Catalog, Entropy Magazine, Chicago Literati, and Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, among others. His debut YA Fantasy novel IN THE NAME OF MAGIC was published by NineStar Press in 2018. His 2019 books include his NA Thriller BURNING BRIDGES (BLKDOG Publishing) and his YA Paranormal Romance novel DEATHLY DESIRES (Deep Hearts YA). In addition to his YA Thriller BETWEEN LOVE AND MURDER, Chris had several other books released in 2020, including his YA Contemporary I’LL SEE YOU AGAIN (Deep Hearts YA). Furthermore, Chris graduated with a BA in Creative Writing from Fairleigh Dickinson University in 2016.

 

Social Media Links

Twitter | Instagram | Amazon

 

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a $25 Amazon gift card or a $10 Between the Lines Publishing Gift Code

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BOOK BLAST: “Years of Silence” by J.K. Jones

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Years of Silence

Author: J.K. Jones 

Publisher: Self-published 

Release Date: December 30, 2020

Genre/s:  Dark M/M Romance, Magical realism

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Themes: Russian Mafia, floral horror, body horror romance, interracial romance, cultural diaspora 

Heat Rating:  4 flames 

Length:  91 872 words

It is a standalone book. 

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links 

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

 

Three friends. Two lies. One truth.

 

Blurb 

Three friends. Two lies. One truth.

Silence can be deafening. Billionaire Tycoon Zander Wright is no stranger to loneliness.

However, what happens when his friend-turned-enemy comes back?  

Knowing Vadim is like dancing the space between heaven and hell. The ocean is an inch between ecstasy and misery. Like all things long since forgotten, young love always remains the most crippling of pain.

Zander Wright is aware of this. He’s felt the fatal blow of being love-struck—bludgeoned violently over the head with the taste and feel of utopia in his arms and in his bed.

Vadim Oblonsky will always be the one thing he wants, but can never have.

Just like Petyr Yahontov will always be the one thing standing in his way. A dangerous man, with a sweet dimpled grin that has connections to the Russian mafia. Petyr wasn’t supposed to take it this far. Now, someone in his inner circle wants him dead. Zander didn’t start this. He didn’t want any part of it.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t finish it.

 

Warning from the author – Years of Silence is a dark MM Romance. This book will take you on a journey of self-discovery and disillusionment, a psychological thriller with so many twists and turns it will make your head spin. Enemies to lovers, floral horror, friends to lovers, hurt comfort, first time mm romance, gay betrayal romance, mental instability and so much more. Read an outstanding piece of literature of three friends and how one truth destroys all of them.

 

Excerpt 

From Chapter 1

Zander recalls these images not to relive them.

But to dance the space between heaven and hell. The ocean is an inch between ecstasy and misery. Like all things long since forgotten, young love always remains the most crippling of pain.

Zander Wright is aware of this.

He’s felt the fatal blow of being love-struck—bludgeoned violently over the head with the taste and feel of utopia in his arms and his bed.

The grotesque and sublime slam into him all at once, he tries to push through, he tries forcing it down, but still, it bubbles up. For once he doesn’t release it, he holds onto it, until it solidifies in his soul.

He knows he’ll never let go. Not now and not ever. Not even if it kills him.

And it surely will kill him, one of these days.

Zander raps his fingers on the table, impatiently going over the extensive legal jargon. The leather feels plush and comfortable as he leans back into his chair. The office is spacious and almost too large for one person alone, but Carlisle has insisted.

There’s a large bookshelf in the far corner, hefty enough to fill a library with nearly dozens upon, dozens of cases. Zander read them all.

Not by choice of course, but by necessity. He lives and breathes his work.

Case files lay stacked on his desk, untouched because of the sheer amount of work he still needs to get through.

“Is this all of it?”

The intern nearly jumps, his small lithe frame looking even smaller in his black slacks and white crisp dress shirt. He’s native American, with beautiful tan skin and dark piercing eyes, rimmed with glasses “Yes Mr. Wright.”

Zander looks back at the file, his eyes greedily taking in every single word. The whole case was fucked up. Even as he read more about the people involved, he felt his stomach coil in disgust. Sometimes he wonders why he became a defense attorney in the first place.

You know why.

“Sick fuck,” He mutters under his breath, before tossing the file on the table.

The case is straightforward: billionaire tycoon caught raping an underage girl and somehow thought throwing money at the problem would make it all go away. However, more women started coming out, accusing the defendant of being a rapist.

“A friend of my father’s you said?”

“Yes, Mr. Wright.”

Even after all the evidence proved that the man was guilty, he still had the fucking gull to plead “not guilty”. It was hard to argue against his DNA found in a rape test. Zander knew he had to take this case on, it was expected of him.

His face hardens.

“These are the police reports. I’ve sealed them to make sure nobody has access to them.” Zander says, placing them in a filing cabinet near his desk, and then Zander hands another file over to him. “Seth, take the case report back to Tanya and tell her that I want Mr. Dmitriev in my office Thursday morning at nine am sharp.”

“Yes, Mr. Wright,” Seth says, snatching the file away and nearly sprinting out of the room.

Zander takes a deep breath, loosening his silk fitted Armani jacket.

If this were a normal day, he would have yelled at Seth for not bringing these files in sooner. His father wanted this situation dealt with as quickly and discreetly as possible.

However, today was unlike any other day. His fingers twitch with anticipation as he wills himself to calm down.

Zander moves from his chair, eager to get the blood pumping and not to dwell on the reason why it feels like his heart wants to burst from his chest.

 

About the Author  

Heaven and hell, demons and angels. J.K Jones has always had an affinity for otherworldly things. From her debut novel, it’s easy to see she loves all things crawling in the shadows. As it so happens, J.K Jones is the author of a gritty, fun, action-packed, soul-rending novel. Her characters are so dark and twisted they defy the dimensions of this world. She does not believe in HEA, she does believe in writing a suitable ending for her characters. Never will you read any of her works where the characters ride off into the sunset together. Not going to happen. There is nothing J.K. Jones loves more than a tragic ending. She is an avid reader, poet, and LGBTQ activist. She is a University graduate with a BA in Sociology, also has a TESOL certificate for teaching English as a Second Language.

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BOOK BLAST: “Oridinary Whore” by Dieter Moitzi

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Ordinary Whore

Author: Dieter Moitzi

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Dieter Moitzi

Genre/s: Mystery, Romance

Trope/s: Family secrets, escort, healing, rebirth, finding a soulmate

Themes: High society, escort, finding oneself, false perceptions, finding the sense of life, resilience

Heat Rating:  0 – 1 flame       

Length: 87 222 words / 328 pages

It is a standalone book.

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Buy Links

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK  |   Kobo

 

A story of loneliness, loss, treacherous perception, family secrets, and… rebirth.

 

Blurb 

People tell me I should count my blessings. “You’re handsome, Marc,” they say, “handsome, rich, young, and intelligent.” But then, given time and opportunity, people would always say inanities, I think. 

Am I handsome? Honestly, I don’t know, but it seems so; handsome enough, at any rate, that I’m allowed to live comfortably off my looks. I’m not rich, mind you, but the men and women paying for my company fling enough crumbs of their wealth my way. I’m still fairly young, too, but since when is youth anyone’s personal achievement? Last but not least, I’m not sure about my intelligence. I’m not even sure being intelligent would be a blessing. 

Anyway, I can’t complain—my life is not unpleasant. I’m a bit bored, a bit melancholic, my mood often as black as the clothes I wear all the time.  

And now my father has died. It shouldn’t mean anything to me—for years we tried to have as few ties or dealings with each other as possible. But all of a sudden, everything comes crumbling down, and my life turns into an unwholesome mess… 

 

Excerpt

—107—

He is just that guy. In his sixties, balding, short and slender; some would even say gaunt. His skin is white and papery. Thin lips, thin features, a jaded attitude. His eyes are… wait a second… grey? Yes, grey, I think, the shade of light-coloured steel, and his gaze is cold but not too cold. He is no man of extremes; a nondescript guy in fact who looks like an accountant or a small-town solicitor. 

Someone of little interest or concern for me, more present in the media than in my thoughts.

And yet, by one of those strange, sly whims that destiny seems to love, that guy is my father.

Or rather, that guy was my father. Because he is dead now.

 

—106—

My older sister is the one who spills the beans. It’s half past nine in the evening. I’m sitting on my white sofa, turning the pages of a fashion magazine, my gaze empty like the faces of the models who are striking poses on the glossy pages before me. Gentle boredom seeps in through the half-open windows, glides over the walls, oozes from every piece of furniture, glistens on the glass or metal surfaces, forming a motionless, invisible, indolent space-time that surrounds me like a halo.

I’ve switched the television on but turned the volume down to a subdued whisper. The soft sounds of a TV game blend with the persistent hum of the traffic downstairs. From time to time, I lift my eyes from the magazine to look at the game host’s white-toothed smile, which seems as genuine as a handbag purchased from a street vendor in Italy. I don’t really follow the show; it is just a means to drown the mortal silence of my apartment. My other choices would have been to listen to the unutterable sadness of a Mahler symphony, or bear the silent cries of my immaculate walls.

That’s when the phone rings.

I pick it up and recognise Raphaëlle, my older sister. Apart from sounding breathless, she is the same as usual. Her vocabulary remains precise, her weary and cold inflections suggesting that we are not on earth to have fun but for other purposes, none of which very pleasant. That’s her in a nutshell: unfazed, unaffected, wintry. Imagine an emotionless automaton. Well, I’m speaking of so-called positive emotions, of course. She knows how to be curt and authoritarian. She knows how to throw an angry fit if needs be.

 “Hi Marc. It’s Raphaëlle,” she says. Then, without further ado, she tells me the news. She is staying with our mother, because the old man died.

“Did he? When? And how?” I enquire.

“Let me think… Two days ago. Or was it three? I don’t know. You want me to ask Mother?”

“No, don’t bother. I’m simply surprised it wasn’t announced on the news yet. Where is she now? Mother, I mean.”

“In the kitchen. Said she was feeling peckish.”

“Opening a new bottle, you mean. I should’ve known. Nice try, though…” I trail off, my brain blank for a second. What should I say now? Am I supposed to condole Raphaëlle? Would that be the appropriate next step?

I don’t want to make a mistake, so I ask, “Do I need to come over? I suppose there’ll be a funeral, right?”

“Of course.” My sister makes a strange noise, something between dry laughter and a sniff. “One doesn’t say funeral, however; one prefers to say obsequies, brother dearest. I even brought my pearls for the occasion. One needs to be glam, you know. But you don’t sound eager to join us.”

“Are you kidding me? To be filmed during Father’s—obsequies, is it?— why, nothing could enchant me more.”

My sister sighs. “Marc, spare me your sarcasm, okay? The funeral takes place the day after tomorrow. It goes without saying that you should assist. But if you prefer to stay away, no problem. Do what you want. You’re free, after all.” Her voice remains monotonous.

“All right. I’ll check the train schedule,” I reply. “And call you back sometime tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“Perfect.”

I notice how peculiar her voice sounds, hoarse and croaky. “What’s up with you?” I ask, incredulous. “Don’t tell me you’ve been weeping!”

“Don’t be ridiculous! It’s just that… it’s bloody freezing in this house. I guess I’ve caught a cold. That’s all.”

 

You can read another excerpt on the author’s website.

 

About the Author 

Born in the early 70s, I grew up in a little village in Austria. At the age of 18, I moved to Vienna to get my master’s degree in Political Sciences, French, and Spanish. Today, I’m living in Paris, France, with my boyfriend and work as a graphic designer. 

In my spare time, I write, read, cook fancy recipes, take photos, and as often as I can, I travel (Italy, Portugal, Morocco, Egypt, the UK, and many more places). My literary tastes are eclectic, ranging from fantasy, murder mysteries, gay romances to dystopian novels, but I won’t say no to poetry or a history book either. I’m more a hoodie/jeans/sneakers kind of guy than a suit-and-tie chap. 

So far, I’ve published two short-story collections as well as four poetry collections. My first murder mystery novel “The Stuffed Coffin” has been released on January 6, 2019 and is also available in German and French. The French version has won the prestigious French Gay Murder Mystery Award 2019 (Prix du roman policier – Prix du roman gay 2019). My second novel “Till Death Do Us Part” was released on June 24, 2020. You can also find me on Rainbow Book Reviews, where I write book reviews under the pseudonym of ParisDude (for French reviews, have a look at my review site livresgay.fr). 

 

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BOOK BLAST: “The Emancipation: Dion’s Baptism” by Dijon M. McIntyre

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Emancipation: Dion’s Baptism

Author: Dijon M McIntyre 

Publisher: FreedomArtz LLC

Cover Artist: Cameron Dudley 

Release Date: December 5, 2019

Genre: Contemporary Adult Fiction

Trope: Therapy

Themes: Love, Depression, Forgiveness, Coming out, Acceptance

Heat Rating: No heat

Length:  34 365 words/128 pages

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A young gay man has a near death experience that forces him to go through therapy and recount the events of his abusive past that led to his excessive drinking and depression.

 

Blurb

The Emancipation: Dion’s Baptism is a fictional story about a young man who has a near death experience and ends up going to therapy, forcing him to dig up painful memories from his past and discover what is the real cause behind his depression and his excessive drinking. He not only finds the answers he’s looking for but also the strength to forgive all the people who have hurt him.

 

Excerpt 

“It’s something I don’t normally tell people about because I don’t want them blaming my sexuality on that. With me being gay, I feel that people in my life always look for an explanation as to why I’m gay or how I “became” gay. It’s not like it was one particular incident that made me like guys, I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. As a child I didn’t really know a name for it or a label to attach to it, I just knew I was always attracted to men. I don’t care too much about how anyone else feels about it, this is part of who I am.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what people in your life did you feel wanted an explanation from you about your sexuality?”

“Everyone, at least that’s the way it felt. Close friends, family members. They all wanted to know why I’m like this; they treated it like it was a disease. I remember people in my family asking me if I had been molested by someone in the family or saying that I turned out like this because I used to carry my grandmother’s purse to her car for her before she went to work. People tried to find every explanation for something that didn’t need one. It’s like I’m asking me why I’m black. Who cares as to why I’m this way, I just am.” Dion doesn’t look Cathy directly in her eyes when talking about him being gay and feeling rejection.

“Seems like you felt the pain of rejection a lot in your life.”

“More than you know, in some ways I think rejection is the very reason that I’m in this office talking to you in the first place.”

“What is your earliest memory of being rejected?”

“Ouch. I need to take another drink before I tell you this one.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Not sure if bad is necessarily the right term to use–more so painful.”

 

August 5th, 2001

“DJ, what are you doing?” Kesiah asks in a slightly critical tone.

“Singing duh, I love to sing.”

“You do?  Since when?” She rolls her eyes.

“Since always, I always sing in my plays at B.C. Cook.” Dion expresses with a child-like excitement

“Well you need to stop singing.”

“Why?” 

“Because you aren’t good at it. Momma used to always say that ‘if you ain’t gone sing a song right then don’t sing it at all.” Keisha walks away, leaving Dion’s eyes full of tears that he silently lets out. 

 

Present Therapy Session

“Keisha is your sister, correct?

“Yeah.” Dion twiddles his thumbs showing his anxiety from talking about his sister.

“When she told you that you couldn’t sing, how old were you?”

“I was seven, I looked at my sister at that time as my best friend. I looked to her for encouragement and support.”

“In that moment, do you feel like she failed you by crushing your expectations of her?”

“I did feel that way, wisdom and time has helped me to forgive her and understand that she wasn’t really trying to hurt my feelings. She was a  thirteen-year-old girl who was still hurting from the death of her mother, our mother. And she didn’t fully know how to process the things that were going on in her life at that time. Looking back, I actually feel bad for not being more understanding about the pain she was in. I held that against her for a long time.

“I know you said that you forgave your sister but what about the effect of what she said? Do you still want to become a singer?”

“Not really, I mean she wasn’t entirely wrong in what she said. She wasn’t entirely right either. I did love singing and my elementary school was a performing arts school so I got to do every area of performance whether I was good at it or not. I decided that my real passion lies somewhere between not just performing but also creating.”

“So you want to be a music producer? Or a singer-songwriter?”

 

About the Author

Dijon McIntyre is an Author/Actor/Director amongst many other things. He was raised in the beautiful sunshine state of Florida which has had a profound effect on his writing and his artistic performances. Getting into acting at the young age of 6, he is familiar with many different types of performing including acting and music but he attributes his love for all of these things to his undying love for God. Raised as a Christian and now identifying as a “follower of Christ”, Dijon has a vision to use his publishing/production company FreedomArtz to open up opportunities for the people who want to make their dreams come true while still maintaining a liveable wage doing what they love. You can find any of his three books on Amazon, Google Books, or any major online retailer. 

 

 

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Continue Reading BOOK BLAST: “The Emancipation: Dion’s Baptism” by Dijon M. McIntyre