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An unproven alliance. A
broken promise. A mafia boss must shed blood to secure peace…

Blurb

Nao Murata is on the verge of brokering peace between his
syndicate and the Mafufugumi mob. To seal the deal, he’ll need to pick up Russian
prostitutes to appease his newest ally. When the exchange goes sour, both sides draw
blades and Nao has no choice but to care for a blood-soaked enemy. If the man doesn’t
make it through the night, Nao and his crew will pay with their lives.

Outnumbered and stranded in enemy territory, Nao is
forced to fight his way out before the Mafufugumi Godfather takes the deal off the table. As
his wounded enemy’s heartbeat slows, Nao must act fast or condemn his syndicate to a
brutal war.

The Deafening Silence is the fourth book in a series of Japanese mafia thrillers. If you
like twisty action, authentic settings, and a touch of gay romance, then you’ll love Amy
Tasukada’s pulse-pounding series.

Buy The Deafening Silence to immerse yourself in a bloody mafia
tale today!

The Yakuza Path Series

BOOK 1 – Blood Stained Tea

BOOK 2 – Better Than Suicide

BOOK 3 – One Thousand Cranes

BOOK 4 – The Deafening Silence

BOOK 5 – Flowers of Flesh and Blood

BOOK 6 – Wrapped in Screams

Releasing in November

Pre-Order here

Excerpt

A car’s engine accelerating pulled Aki’s attention away from
the phone. His eyes grew wide as a red Ferrari 458 pulled up in front of him. The sculpted
body and raised headlights on the fenders sent a shiver down Aki’s spine. He was in
love.

The door opened, and Shinji stepped out wearing tight
black jeans and a red plaid coat with a few more zippers than necessary to give it a rocker
vibe. But that car!

“You like it?” Shinji asked, gesturing to the sweetest ride
Aki had been able to get close to in a long time.

“Like it?” Aki ran his hand across the warm hood. “I’m
ready to propose.”

Shinji leaned over beside Aki and tapped the hood. “She
does have one hell of a purr when she’s hot.”

Shinji’s red jacket rode up and revealed jeans hugging his
ass like a second skin. He was showing off, but at the same time, Aki didn’t mind. If Nao
could sleep with some Russian bastard, Aki could stare at the ass of an attractive guy with an
even hotter car.

“You want to drive?” Shinji tossed the keys to Aki, who
caught them in one hand.

“You mean it?”

“I don’t tease—at least not outside the bedroom.”

No other keys ever felt like they belonged in his hand. Aki
shoved the briefcase in the back and slid into the driver’s seat. He brushed his hands over
the fine leather detail. His fingers were made for the steering wheel.

“I always wanted to drive something like this.”

Shinji got beside him. “Murata doesn’t let you drive his
flashy cars?”

Aki laughed. “Domestic brands aren’t known for their
looks.”

“Jun told us he didn’t buy things not made by Japanese
companies, but I didn’t believe him.”

“It’s true—everything from cars to suits. The only foreign
thing he touches is his tea.”

“And a good hooker.”

Aki slammed on the gas, peeling out onto the
street.

“Show-off.” Shinji grinned.

Aki asked, “Where’s the pawn shop?”

Shinji grabbed on to the door and let out a small laugh.
“Good thing we have a deal with the cops.”

“Really? I’ve had a hard time getting ahold of Jun.”

“You have to ask the right person.”

“I see. Who’s the right person?”

“I forgot his name since I just deal with our Russia
allies.”

Aki floored the accelerator, speeding through a changing
light. “Father Murata is disappointed he hasn’t been released yet.”

“Don’t worry. We don’t want to raise suspicion. He’ll be
released by the time we get back from the exchange with the Russians.”

More like get done holding Jun hostage. Nao was right.
Something was off about the whole trip.

Aki slowed to a stop at a red light. The engine purred as if
crying to be set free. Sports cars weren’t meant to be stuck idling.

Shinji pointed. “It’ll be a right at the next light.”

Shinji’s hair fell in his eyes, and he swept it back. Even with
the coat, his biceps bulged. Nao kept his muscles lean, refining them in a boxing ring rather
than lifting weights like Shinji must’ve done to get them so large.

Aki licked his lips. Both were appealing in their own way.
Shinji probably would look hotter pinning Aki’s hands above his head and would have much
more power behind each of his slamming thrusts. He could imagine the marks left on his
back from being banged against the wall. Shinji could mark his body anyway he wanted. A
small moan left the back of Aki’s throat, and if Shinji had heard it, he thankfully didn’t react,
but Aki’s body had.

He blamed it on the car and the way it vibrated when they
stopped. Not the fact that Shinji was objectively the hottest guy who’d ever hit on him
before. Aki hadn’t just imagined what sex with him would be like for a full light
change.

The light switched to green and Aki peeled out, hoping it
would distract Shinji enough not to notice the bulge growing in Aki’s trousers.

About the Author

International best-selling
author Amy Tasukada writes thrilling times of crime, love, and gore. Readers who crave
diverse characters, unique settings, and edge-of-your-seat action will devour her
Yakuza Path series. Readers who seek less blood and more love will swoon
over the Yakuza Path
Romance and Would it Be Okay to Love You? Series. Amy is an atheist, queer author who enjoys drinking tea,
Japanese street fashion and visual kei music. Her calico cat, O’Hara, is never far from her
side. Amy lives in North Texas, but is always planning her next trip to Japan.

Author Links

Blog/Website
| Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

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BOOK BLAST: “You’ll be fine” by Jen Michalski. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:October 11, 2021
Post category:Book Blast Gay Book Promotions
Post comments:0 Comments

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: You’ll Be Fine

Author: Jen
Michalski

Publisher: NineStar
Press

Cover Artist: Natasha
Snow

Release Date: August 2,
2021

Genres: Contemporary F/F Romance, Family comedy, trans
character

Tropes: Comedy of errors, love triangle

Theme: Forgiveness

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 77 900 words/ 343
pages

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

Buy Links

Publisher | B&N

Second chances don’t

mean repeating the same mistakes

Blurb

After Alex’s mother passes away, Alex takes leave from her
job as a writer for a lifestyle magazine to return home to Maryland and join her brother
Owen, a study in failure to launch, in sorting out their mother’s whimsical, often
self-destructive, life.

While home, Alex plans to profile Juliette Sprigg, an Eastern
Shore restaurant owner and celebrity chef in the making who Alex secretly dated in high
school. And when Alex enlists the help of Carolyn, the editor of the local newspaper, in
finding a photographer for the article’s photo shoot, Alex struggles with the deepening,
tender relationship that blossoms between them as well.

To complicate matters, Alex and Owen’s “Aunt” Johanna,
who has transitioned to a woman, offers to come from Seattle to help with arrangements,
and all hell breaks loose when she announces she is actually Alex and Owen’s
long-estranged father. Can Alex accept her mother and father for who they are, rather than
who she hoped they would be? And can Alex apply the same philosophy to herself?

“An enjoyable story about an adult trying to grow up.” –
Kirkus Reviews

Excerpt

The last time she’d seen Juliette was high school
graduation. They hadn’t spoken for weeks, and their last names—Sprigg and
Maas—ensured they’d be nowhere near each other in the audience of graduating seniors.
Alex had told Owen and her mother to meet her in the parking lot after the ceremony. She
had no intention of lingering in the high school gym, drinking fruit punch and eating sheet
cake emblazoned with GO SENIORS and CONGRATULATIONS with the other kids who’d
treated her like she was some highly contagious lesbian fungus.

She’d gotten through the first row of cars and spotted her
mother in the fourth row, near the exit, leaning against their Subaru. Her mother wore Ray
Bans and a black fedora, her arms crossed like she was the third Blues Brother or had
materialized from some mid-80s new wave music video. As Alex raised her hand to wave to
her, she felt another hand on her shoulder.

“Alex.” It was Juliette’s mother, Barbara Sprigg. She wore a
floral print dress with a ruffled collar. A small crucifix hugged her thick neck. Her hair was
red like Juliette’s but her face ruddier, plastered with freckles. She smiled. “You’re in a hurry!

Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” Alex glanced over Mrs. Sprigg’s shoulder, saw
Juliette, still in her graduation gown, lagging behind with her father and little sister. “My
mom is taking us out to dinner.”

“Oh, I won’t keep you.” Mrs. Sprigg said, clasping Alex’s
forearm as she did so. “You haven’t been by the house for a long time—Juliette says you’ve
been so busy getting ready for Swarthmore. I’m sure your mother is so proud.”

“Uh huh.” Alex nodded. “I know Juliette is excited to go to
Eastern Shore State.”

“Well, she’s⎯” Mrs. Sprigg glanced over her shoulder,
“never been much of the academic type. I’m just glad I taught her to bake.”

“It’s a shame they didn’t let you guys supply the cakes.”
Juliette’s mother ran a bake shop in town. Even now, she smelled faintly of sugar and
frosting.

“Well, they wanted some asinine discount,” Mrs. Sprigg
snorted. “Because Juliette is a student. Fine, but a 50% discount?”

“It was very nice to talk to you.” Alex tugged her arm away
gently. “But I’ve got to go.”

“Is everything okay at home now, dear?” Mrs. Sprigg
looked in the direction of the Subaru.

“Yes, why?” Alex glanced at Juliette again, her dark red hair,
the few strands that stuck to her lip gloss. Alex wondered if the lip gloss smelled like mint, or
strawberry. She wondered how Juliette’s hair would feel splayed between her fingers at that
moment.

“Okay. I’m glad.” Mrs. Sprigg nodded, and Alex wondered
what Juliette had told her. There was a lot, she thought, she could tell Mrs. Sprigg about
Juliette.

They embraced, a half, light, back-patting hug, their cheeks
brushing.

“Stay away from my daughter,” Mrs. Sprigg murmured into
Alex’s ear. Then, as if nothing happened, Mrs. Sprigg waved vigorously and went to join the
rest of the Spriggs. Stunned, Alex watched them walk toward their Buick. Before they
reached it, Juliette turned her head, her mouth parted, her eyes searching Alex’s. Alex
wondered, for a moment, if she had been too hasty, too harsh, to Juliette, if there was
something salvageable between them.

No, she decided. Her life after high school would be
awesome, and she wouldn’t remember Juliette any more than their high school mascot or
her mom’s boyfriend Lewis. She held up her hand to Juliette, as if to wave. Instead, she gave
her the finger and joined Owen and her mother at the other side of the parking lot.

“Did you just flip someone off?” Her mother lowered her
sunglasses. Her hazel eyes bored into Alex with an unwavering intensity of a gamma ray. “At
graduation?”

“It was Juliette,” Alex murmured, shaking her head. In her
new life, she would be more mature. She felt fears in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have. I
just—”

“Are you kidding?” Her mother grabbed Alex by the
shoulders and looked up at her. She grinned. Alex noted her mother had borrowed her
lipstick. “I’m more proud of that than your stupid diploma.”

Her mother pulled a pack of Benson & Hedges out of
her dark cotton blazer with the rolled-up sleeves and tapped out a cigarette.

“Smoke?” She held out the pack to Alex. “You’re almost
eighteen.”

Alex shook her head. “I don’t want lung cancer.”

“Your choice.” Her mother shrugged, lighting hers. She took
a drag, then exhaled with a flourish. “Welcome to adulthood.”

About the Author

Jen Michalski is the author of
three novels, The Summer She Was Under Water, The Tide King (both Black Lawrence Press),
and You’ll Be Fine (NineStar Press), a couplet of novellas entitled Could You Be With Her
Now (Dzanc Books), and three collections of fiction. Her work has appeared in more than
100 publications, including Poets & Writers, The Washington Post, and the Literary
Hub, and she’s been nominated for the Pushcart Prize six times. She lives in Carlsbad,
California, with her partner and dog.

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter

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one of five
ebooks/paperback copies of You’ll Be Fine

(reader’s choice)

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BOOK BLAST: “CLUBBED: A Story of Gay Love: Trials, Tribulations, and Triumphs” by Robert A. Karl. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:October 6, 2021
Post category:Book Blast Gay Book Promotions Kindle Unlimited
Post comments:1 Comment

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: CLUBBED: A Story of Gay Love: Trials, Tribulations and
Triumphs

Author: Robert A.
Karl

Publisher: Robert A.
Karl

Cover Artist: Hussnain
Designz

Release Date: April 13,
2021

Genre: Gay Historical Fiction

Themes: Coming Out, LGBTQ+ Community, Gay Club Life, Marriage
Equality, AIDS

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 74 547 words/ 246
pages

This is the first book in a
planned series of three. It does end on a
cliffhanger. This book mostly explores gay life before the AIDS pandemic began. The book
ends just as HIV is beginning to infect the gay community.

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Everyone at the club has a
story, and every story deserves to be told.

Blurb

Sex. Drugs. Lust. Courage. Loyalty. Betrayal. Drag Divas.
Hustlers. Porn. Gogo Boys. Anything is possible at the gay club scene. Even LOVE.

Joey, fresh from the suburbs, gets involved in the gay club
scene in Philadelphia during the late 1970s and early 80s. He shares the stories of a diverse
cast of characters, including his own special love story. Everyone at the club has a story, and
every story deserves to be told.

Excerpt

Once the team meeting was over, everyone left except for
me and Henry. I poured us a couple drinks while he climbed up the steps to the DJ booth,
turning the music up to a blast and starting the light show. He came down with a backpack,
carrying it to the middle of the dance floor, where he started unpacking, spreading a blanket
and a couple of pillows on the floor.

“We gonna sleep here?” I asked innocently, knowing what
his intentions were.

“Maybe,” Henry answered, with a wink. We sat
cross-legged on the blanket, surrounded by music and lights, as I raised my drink and
offered a toast. “To us and our gay sanctuary!” I said, clinking our glasses and drinking up. In
the next instant, Henry was on top of me, tearing at my clothes and grinding into me, kissing
me with the hot passion of youth.

A minute later, I was totally naked, on my stomach, with
Henry on top of me, penetrating me as he sucked on my neck so hard I knew that I’d have a
hot hickey the next day. He started slowly, rhythmically moving his hips as he dug his way
deeper and deeper inside me.

He knew what I liked and how I liked to be treated. He
whispered hoarsely in my ear, grunting earnestly, as he called me his little bitch, his ho, his
pussyboy, telling me that he owned my ass and more.

As he was forcing me to answer “Yes, Sir!” to his questions,
demanding I answer louder and louder each time, we suddenly heard the door to the men’s
room in the back open. Apparently, two of the new bartenders had decided to spend a little
quality time in there, enjoying a quick encounter after everyone else had left. When they
saw what was going on, with Henry dominating me thoroughly, they hurried towards the
exit, giggling the entire way.

“Good night, Boss!” they called out in unison.

“Good night, boys, see you tomorrow,” Henry answered, as
he kept his strong hand tight against my mouth so I could only remain silent.

“You know I’m the real boss, right?”

“Yes, Sir” was my immediate answer, as he shook in
spasms, coming to his climax, seeding me right there on the dance floor.

The grand opening finally arrived at 10 PM the next night. I
made sure that all the team members were in their proper positions, and I made a grand
gesture as I flung open the door – that big beautiful red door – to NOTHING. No one was
there to hit the new club at the very first minute.

“Calm down,” I thought to myself. I had to remind myself
that this is an after hours club, and who really would go to a place like this at 10 PM? The
real action at the regular bars wouldn’t even really get started for another hour at
least.

So the DJ kept spinning up in his booth, along with the
lighting tech controlling the lasers. The bartenders tried to keep themselves busy, wiping
down the bars and rinsing glasses that were already clean.

11 PM, still nothing. I was starting to get a little nervous.
Did we do all this for nothing? I was a small town guy in the big city. Maybe this was a dumb
idea.

Henry came over to talk and he was his usual self, full of
positivity. He told me that he personally knew over 100 guys who had promised to show up
for the first night.

At about 12:15 AM, a group of four guys finally came in
through the door. A feeling of sweet relief came over me that at least we had a few
customers, though I could see the disappointed look on their faces as they realized they
were the only people there. But that quickly changed as guys started to trickle in, slowly at
first, then turning to a steady stream.

By 1:30 AM, the club was more than half full, with the line
of customers waiting to get in getting longer with each passing minute. By the time the bars
in the Gayborhood closed at 2 AM, groups of rowdy, drunken gay men were making their
way a few blocks north, turning our grand opening into a truly grand night for
Sanctuary.

As the night progressed, I was drinking a little too heavily,
getting excited as I watched the crowd from the DJ booth. While it was a mostly white
crowd, I was happy that it wasn’t exclusively white, signaling that an integrated club just
might be acceptable in this town. Despite my drunkenness, I noticed a few details that
surprised me.

About the Author

Robert A. Karl is a native son
of Philadelphia, PA, the City of Brotherly Love. He earned his M.Ed. from Temple University
and worked for the School District of Philadelphia as a teacher and technology specialist for
30 years. He also taught courses in Educational Technology at the Temple University College
of Education.

Losing many friends to the
AIDS pandemic dramatically altered his world. Living in the LGBTQ community provided the
historical background for his first novel. His work is a tribute to the incredible diversity in the
LGBTQ community.

Currently retired and living in
San Juan, PR, he is the proud Gay Dog Dad to Zuna, the Awesome Boston Terrier.

Author Links

Facebook | Instagram | Amazon Author Page

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Giveaway for a chance to win

a $25 Amazon gift cards

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BOOK BLAST: “Lillian and the Italians” by David Gee

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:October 3, 2021
Post category:Book Blast Gay Book Promotions
Post comments:0 Comments

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Lillian and the Italians

Author: David Gee

Publisher: The Conrad Press

Cover Artist: Charlotte Mouncey

Release Date: April 11, 2021

Genres: 1960s Mafia Romance/Romance Thriller

Tropes: Bi-guys and their parents

Themes: Mother comes to terms with finding her son is bisexual

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 101 000 words/ 366 pages

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

Buy Links

The Conrad Press

Venice, Amalfi – secrets and danger

Blurb

Looking for her wayward son in 1960s Italy, an English widow encounters revelations and begins a dangerous romance.

In Venice Lillian Rutherford meets the ex-gigolo who has shared the last four years of Andrew’s life; his disclosures force her to confront a side of her son that she never suspected – he is bisexual. Going on to Amalfi, she meets the charismatic Prince Massimo Monfalcone, whose gay playboy son is being held to ransom in Corsica with Andrew. Massimo distracts Lillian with his life story: his first wife was murdered in a Sicilian blood-feud; his second wife killed herself because of his infidelity. As they wait for news of their sons, a bond grows between Lillian and the Prince…

Excerpt

Massimo led her across to a wooden bench overlooking the steps down to the platform of rock and the barely whispering sea. ‘I love this house,’ he said as they sat down, ‘but the Amalfi coast doesn’t have much to offer the boys compared to Sardinia or some of the other jet-set hang-outs. Positano used to be chic but it’s become very touristy.’

‘At their age a touristy place ought to be what they’d want: discotheques and bars.’

‘Fausto’s happier in a crypt full of old ledgers, and Fabio prefers to be seen where it’s fashionable to be seen. If he was hanging about in low dives with working-class types and slumming tourists I’d be worried about his security. There’s safety in numbers with his rich society friends, but I do worry that he may acquire a taste for dangerous vices.’

Lillian took a deep breath that owed nothing to the steps. She said: ‘I hope Andrew won’t be a bad influence on him.’

Massimo stared deep into her eyes. He said: ‘On the contrary, he may be a better influence than some of the crowd he usually hangs around with. Your son has a certain amount of culture and sophistication. Perhaps some of that will rub off on Fabio.’

‘Have you met my son?’

He nodded. ‘At Fabio’s birthday party in Siena last April. I didn’t stay long, I didn’t want to spoil his fun with his young friends, but, yes, I met Andrew. He has a lot of charm and although he pretends to be shallow and cynical, I could see that he was a man of sensitivity and deep feelings underneath.’ He paused, still looking at her. ‘The sensitivity he gets from you, I’m quite sure. The shallowness is, I think, a thing of his own making. His looks come from his father’s side, I guess, but there’s something that connects you and him just as there is with me and Fabrizio although he’s the image of his mother. That something, that connection, is what has brought you to Italy. I would go to the ends of the earth for either of my sons.’

A driver tooted his impatience on the next headland. Lillian’s eyes were filmed with tears which she managed not to shed. ‘We’re keeping them waiting,’ she said, gesturing at the group of men at the car.

‘They are paid to wait,’ he said bluntly. ‘This is an important moment for you, for us.’ He took her right hand and held it between both of his. ‘Lillian, if you need to cry, you should cry. There can be no shame between us, the parents of two difficult sons.’

Freeing her hand, she took another deep breath. ‘My son is homosexual,’ she said, meeting his penetrating gaze.

‘I know this,’ he said.

‘He’s more than twice the age of your – Fabio.’ The boy’s name was finally fixed in her mind. ‘He may – corrupt him.’

Massimo smiled into her eyes. ‘My dear Lillian, it’s possible that my useless son will “corrupt” Andrew, who has given up the practice of interior design to go sailing with him. My son too seems to be homosexual. Of course at seventeen he may grow out of it, although I think not in his case. It’s a disappointment, but there are worse things he could be.’

‘I can’t think of many,’ said Lillian wretchedly.

He mocked her with a gentle laugh and patted her hands. ‘By the time I was seventeen I’d made love to every available girl in our village as well as some of their mothers and even some of their brothers.’ Lillian, with an effort, managed not to look shocked. ‘I was lucky,’ he continued. ‘Girls were supposed to be virgins until they married, but a surprising number of them were available for the grandson of Don Massimo Monfalcone. For many Sicilian boys to this day homosexual activity is one of the more respectable ways of acquiring a bit of experience before marriage.’

Lillian supposed he was hinting at some form of degeneracy that was thankfully beyond the reach of her imagination. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this,’ he apologized. ‘I’m trying to make the point that boys do things they mostly grow out of. I did. Andrew apparently hasn’t. Maybe Fabio will, maybe he won’t, but whatever happens I don’t think your son will have much to do with it.’

‘Between you and Carlo I seem to be getting a whole new sexual education at the age of fifty,’ she said.

He laughed again. ‘Is that how old you are? One would never think so.’

About the Author

David Gee has worked in London and the Persian Gulf. His previous novels include Shaikh-Down and The Bexhill Missile Crisis, a prequel to Lillian and the Italians. He lives on the UK south coast near Brighton. His website and blog are at: www.davidgeebooks.com

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook

Twitter | Instagram

BOOK BLAST: “Bangkok Burning” by Robin Newbold. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:September 30, 2021
Post category:Book Blast Gay Book Promotions
Post comments:2 Comments

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Bangkok Burning

Author: Robin Newbold

Publisher: The Conrad Press

Cover Artist: Charlotte Mouncey

Release Date: January 2021

Genre: Gay Thriller

Tropes: Coming out story

Themes: Good against evil fight

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 80 000 words/305 pages

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

Buy Links

Instagram | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads Author Profile Page

Foyles | Queer Lit

How far would you go to get what you want?

Blurb

Bangkok Burning is a brilliantly unsettling thriller about the dark side of desire. It is also something of a warped love letter to a place teeming with a rogues’ gallery of characters, for this is not just about one man’s struggle but a portrait of a whole city on the brink.

Closeted forty-year-old Graham Floyd, trapped by anxiety issues and an abusive marriage, finally escapes, running away from his lifeless existence on a smile and a whim, swapping dreary south London for the brutal chaos of Bangkok. He soon finds himself prey not only to Natasha, the transsexual nightclub schemer he loses his heart to, but in thrall to the slimy American millionaire Svengali who owns her. In a place where Graham is at last true to himself, will he triumph in a fight to the death to get what he really wants?

Excerpt

Graham knew he only had seven days, just a week to get what he craved – a new life.

A cacophony of voices in pidgin English broke him out of his trance, the grabbing, everywhere hands accosting him as he neared the entrance. He was back, the tawdry plywood exterior looking even poorer than he remembered illuminated by the tacky red neon sign announcing Christie Cabaret Show. Greeted by the same throbbing Thai pop music, beating in time to his heart, the gutter stink of cheap perfume, the place looked much smaller and far more decadent than it had in his mind’s eye over the last few weeks. In his dreams he’d expected to walk in and find her, poised, as if she’d been waiting for him, but Graham felt cheated as he looked around frantically at the other ladyboys. Though how he hated that word, the fact he could possibly be desperate for one of their ilk. Staring out at the braying red-faced punters, Thai girls curled serpent-like around bovine white men, their eyes calculating every move, brains computing every sentence uttered he saw a kind of hell and of Natasha there was no sign.

‘God,’ he said to himself, feeling his muscles tense, mouth desert dry, palms leaking sweat, chewing at nails so destroyed blood was oozing out of them.

‘Can I help you, Sir?’ said not a divine being but a heavily made-up boy.

‘Where’s Natasha?’ he said, wheeling around, scanning the bar again.

‘Natasha?’ said the boy with a shrug.

He flopped down at a bar stool overlooking the ramshackle stage, sighing as the first strains of Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You’ – one of wife Sheila’s favourites – struck up and a ridiculously elaborately dressed ladyboy appeared, lip-synching in all the wrong places.

‘Beer, please,’ said Graham to the boy who’d continued to hover and he was gone with a practised and unnecessary shake of his arse.

‘All right, babe. As one alcoholic would say to another, you look like you need a drink,’ said a man to his right, fruity voice cutting through the din, a gnarled hand seemingly weighed down by a worrying amount of gold jewellery enveloping his arm. ‘Great this, ain’t it.’

‘Graham, what’s yours? Though everyone calls me Gray as in Mr Gray. Like my life,’ he said, turning to look at his new best friend, taking in the yellowing skin which was the hue of old newspapers, the gin-coloured hair.

‘Nigel… Nigel Monroe.’

‘Good to meet you, Nigel Monroe.’

‘You can live like a king ‘ere, dear,’ he said, voice a shouty amalgam of Cockney and camp, raising a glass unsteadily with one hand, patting the boy’s arse with the other. ‘These girls, you see, know what they want and how to get it.’

‘Do you know Natasha?’

‘Let’s see, I’ve been here since 1990, so that’s twenty years now. Twenty bloody years man and boy…’

‘Where were you before?’

‘Before? Was there a before?’ he said, looking out into the middle distance. ‘All over. And you?’

‘South London.’

‘Don’t sound like it.’

‘I don’t have a strong accent. Guess you could say I’m well read. Like my crosswords and that. But, come on, what have you been doing here?’

‘Ah, the first rule of being an expat, never ask that question ‘ere,’ he said, shakily raising a hand. ‘People get offended. But, you know, this and that…’

As he tailed off, Graham sensed regret, his companion staring off beyond the nonsense on stage and into the darkness beyond, as though wondering how he’d ‘lost touch’, so the phrase went, with friends and family, with his roots, with who he actually was, traded it all in for a seat in a dive bar in a city halfway around the world. He didn’t want to bloody end up like that.

About the Author

Robin Newbold is a Hove-based journalist and freelance travel writer, having returned to England after six years living in the Far East. His work has appeared in Time Out, the South China Morning Post, Bangkok Metro and Gay Times. This is his third novel. Bloody Summer was published in 2012, while Vacuum-Packed came out in 2014. He is a Crystal Palace fan.

Author Links

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BOOK BLAST: “Better than Suicide” by Amy Tasukada

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:September 13, 2021
Post category:Book Blast Gay Book Promotions
Post comments:0 Comments

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Yakuza Path: Better Than Suicide

Author: Amy Tasukada

Publisher: ‎ Macarons & Tea Publishing

Release Date: May 15, 2017

Genre: Gay thriller, NOT A ROMANCE

Tropes: Bad boys, tragic hero

Theme: Mafia,

Heat Rating: 1 flame

Length: 353 pages

It is the second book in The Yakuza Path series. It can be read as a standalone but it’s better if you read it as part of the series. It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Buy Links

Barnes and Noble | Books 2 Read

Kobo | Google Play | Apple Books

A stash of drugs. A twisted cop. A mob on the verge of self-destruction…

Blurb

Nao Murata is the new godfather of the Matsukawa syndicate. When Detective Yamada confronts Nao over a dead drug dealer, Nao knows his organization isn’t responsible. The Matsukawa doesn’t deal drugs… or does it?

When Nao discovers drugs in a locker owned by his syndicate, he no longer knows who to trust. With the police bearing down on the Matsukawa, Nao must make unlikely allies to find out the truth. Can he discover who is betraying him before time runs out, or will everyone suffer for a crime he didn’t commit?

Better Than Suicide is the second book in a Japanese mafia thriller series. If you like complex plots, gripping suspense, and a splash of romance, then you’ll love the next installment in Amy Tasukada’s Yakuza Path series.

Buy Better Than Suicide to start the race against the clock today!

The Yakuza Path Series

BOOK 1 – Blood Stained Tea

BOOK 2 – Better Than Suicide

BOOK 3 – One Thousand Cranes

BOOK 4 – The Deafening Silence

BOOK 5 – Flowers of Flesh and Blood

BOOK 6 – Releasing in November

Excerpt

If Nao’s father had kept the drug key in his office desk, what horrors would Nao find once he stepped foot into his father’s home? Nao would rather keep them buried for as long as possible.

Kurosawa knotted the gauze wraps with a tight jerk of his wrist. “The least you could do is not fuck a new recruit at headquarters. It makes it uncomfortable for everyone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Last night with Hisona.”

“Hisona?” Nao blinked.

“You don’t even know his name? The whole house could hear you screw him all night.”

Hisona was much too forceful of a name and didn’t match Aki’s personality at all. So of course he’d forget it. Apparently Aki could act enough to keep the whole household convinced. With only four days left before jail time, Nao was bound to need Aki’s acting skills again.

Nao grinned. “Aki really knew how to take it. Those recruits are so eager to please.”

“If you want to fuck one, take them to a hotel.”

Nao tried not to laugh at Kurosawa’s reddening face. If it was out of embarrassment or anger, Nao didn’t know, but either way he enjoyed it.

“Taking the time to go to a hotel would’ve killed the mood.” Nao trailed a hand down his own neck to his collarbone. “Have you ever been with a man, Kurosawa? They know exactly what to do during a blowjob.”

Kurosawa puffed out his cheeks. “Couldn’t you go back to the brothel?”

“I thought you’d enjoy me staying in for once. Besides, you’re not in a position to talk to me this way.”

Kurosawa gritted his teeth. “What I’m doing is for the good of the Matsukawa as a whole.”

“You should respect me more as the godfather of this syndicate.”

“Someone has to tell you what everyone is thinking.”

“Good thing they’re not speaking it because I’d punch them in the face. With you, I’m satisfied seeing you get demoted to cutting up dead bodies and burning the Matsukawa furnace once you’re replaced.”

“I’ll be more than happy to do any task that benefits the family.”

Nao laughed and grabbed his phone. He frowned; there were still no new messages from Kohta, which didn’t put him any closer to finding the dealer.

“Fujimoto called last night about a disturbance in his ward.” Nao grinned. “I was in the middle of getting a blowjob, so I told him to handle it. I want to make sure Fujimoto wasn’t an idiot.”

About the Author

International best-selling author Amy Tasukada writes thrilling times of crime, love, and gore. Readers who crave diverse characters, unique settings, and edge-of-your-seat action will devour her Yakuza Path series. Readers who seek less blood and more love will swoon over the Yakuza Path Romance and Would it Be Okay to Love You? Series. Amy is an atheist, queer author who enjoys drinking tea, Japanese street fashion and visual kei music. Her calico cat, O’Hara, is never far from her side. Amy lives in North Texas, but is always planning her next trip to Japan.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

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BOOK BLAST: “Blood Stained Tea” by Amy Tasukada

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:August 21, 2021
Post category:Book Blast Gay Book Promotions
Post comments:0 Comments

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Yakuza Path:
Blood Stained Tea

Author: Amy
Tasukada

Publisher:
Self-Published

Release Date: November 28, 2016

Genre: Gay thriller (NOT ROMANCE)

Tropes: Forbidden love, bad boys, tragic hero

Themes: Mafia

Heat Rating: 1 flame

Length: 350
pages

It is the first book in the
series and does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Buy Links – FREE to read on all platforms

Kobo | Google Play | Apple Books

Barnes and Noble | Books 2

Read

A bloody past haunts him.
A devastating present lures him back…

Blurb

Nao hides from his violent past in the Japanese mob by
opening a teahouse in Japan’s cultural center, Kyoto. His past comes flooding back when he
discovers a gravely injured man with a tattooed chest, a bloody knife, and a Korean business
card.

Saehyun would’ve died if not for Nao’s help. He knows
nothing of his savior’s connection with the local mafia, but Saehyun has his own secrets. He
commands the Korean mafia, the mortal enemy of Nao’s former syndicate.

As Nao and Saehyun grow closer, so does the strength of
the Korean mob. A shocking murder pulls Nao back into a past he’d all but abandoned. War
is looming, and Nao must choose between protecting Saehyun or avenging the honor of his
old mafia family.

Blood Stained Tea is the first book in the The Yakuza Path series. If you like complex characters,
blood-soaked violence, and twists you won’t see coming, then you’ll love Amy Tasukada’s
gritty crime masterpiece.

The Yakuza Path Series

BOOK 1 – Blood Stained Tea

BOOK 2 – Better Than Suicide

BOOK 3 – One Thousand Cranes

BOOK 4 – The Deafening Silence

BOOK 5 – Flowers of Flesh and Blood

BOOK 6 – Releasing in November

Excerpt

It was no collection of branches, but a human body
slumped against the tree roots.

“Are you all right?” Nao yelled over the cracking
thunder.

No answer came.

Nao dropped his umbrella and crossed the footbridge in a
single stride. The rain trickled down his back, plastering his hair to his neck. As he groped for
a cherry-tree branch to steady himself on the embankment, his clog sank into the mud,
which slathered between his toes. He pulled one foot up, but the shoe stuck, and he tipped
forward. The cold river stung his face, and he spat out the water that had flooded his
mouth.

Nao crawled to the body and came face-to-face with the
unconscious young man. He had to be a few years younger than Nao. Lightning flashed,
exposing the man’s bushy eyebrows and sloping nose. An eye was swollen shut, and blood
dripped from his open mouth. Nao grabbed the arm of the man, who hissed in pain. Blood
poured out from underneath his cut sleeve. Nao swallowed. He hadn’t seen such flowing
blood since that night. The cut was sliced clean and couldn’t have been from the stranger’s
fall in the canal.

Nao pulled at the sleeve and held it against the wound.

“Can you get up?”

Nao received no reply, but he waited, hoping the minute or
two of pressure would close the cut. The warm fluid flowed out between Nao’s fingers.

“Your arm’s in rough shape. I’ll take you to a hospital.”

“No. No hospital,” the injured man said, and then he
muttered something in Korean, but the Korean sounded like the cawing of crows to
Nao.

“Someone there should be able to speak Korean. You need
to get your arm looked at. Come on!”

Nao reached for the man’s uninjured arm, but the stranger
pushed him away with such force Nao fell back into the mud. He curled his fingers into a fist,
and mud oozed out. No matter how much the stranger struggled, Nao wouldn’t leave
him.

The rain drowned out the man’s continued mumbling. He
was probably telling Nao why he couldn’t go to the hospital. Expired visa or lack of
insurance, Nao didn’t need to know.

With an uneven step toward the stranger, Nao realized his
right shoe had stayed in the muck. His bare foot slid through the sludge, and he grimaced.
Lightning flashed, and the stranger’s mouth no longer moved. Nao’s eyes widened. He
couldn’t let another person die in front of him.

“Wake up.”

No reply or movement from the stranger.

Nao clenched his teeth. He grabbed the injured arm,
pressing his thumb into the cut. The man hissed in pain and then spat out more Korean. Nao
backed away. He had deepened the injury, but the cruelty woke the guy up, so it was worth
it.

“Let’s go.”

“No hospitals.”

“We need to get out of the rain before we both get
sick.”

Nao tugged the good arm over his shoulder. The man
moaned as Nao hoisted him up. The stranger was considerably taller, built larger in all
aspects, and he weighed down on Nao’s shoulder. Yet the drive to do something right for
once carried him on.

About the Author

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| Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

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BOOK BLAST: “Blue Moons and Unicorns” by Kathryn Allen.

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:August 12, 2021
Post category:Book Blast Gay Book Promotions
Post comments:0 Comments

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Blue Moons and Unicorns

Author: Kathryn
Allen

Publisher: Self
published

Cover Artist: Fiverr

Release Date: April 1,
2021

Genres: Action, LGBTI+

Trope: Friends to lovers

Themes: Personal growth, self confidence

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 122 000 words/ 299
pages

It is the first book of an
intended ongoing series and does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Smashwords

Blurb

While holidaying with her friends in the Hamptons, Interpol
agent Samira Neves finds out her father is missing. Following his cryptic breadcrumbs from
New York to Amsterdam and London, Samira’s view of her father is challenged. Unwilling to
involve the authorities, Samira is cut off from her usual networks to investigate the
smuggling and trafficking she is uncovering. While never afraid to use her sensuality to her
advantage, she finds herself stretching her erotic horizons when her bisexual friend Ashleigh
suggests an unorthodox tactic to infiltrate the world of her swinger targets. Will this be
enough to track down her father and find out exactly who was behind it all?

Excerpt

She pushed the accelerator down a little harder, enjoying
how the Maserati surged forward when she dropped down a gear. It was totally unnecessary
but completely worth it for the noise. The sound filled the air, no roof or windows to
separate them from the glorious engine note. Despite the coastal views, Samira almost
wished for a tunnel so she could hear it all around her.

Chelsea laughed suddenly. Samira glanced back to see her
friend unsuccessfully trying to control her normally faultless blonde hair from whipping
around in the wind. Samira grinned. She’d offered Chelsea both a hair tie and a cap at the
start of the day, but Chelsea had waved them away. Of course, the stylish broad-brimmed
hat Chelsea had brought had swiftly ended up in the trunk as it was wholly unsuitable for
open top driving. Samira’s own hair was braided down her back and held tight under a
bright, white baseball cap. She’d been driving convertibles long enough to know the ads
with women’s hair streaming back elegantly were all crap. Beside her, Ashleigh, hair similarly
under control, reached forward to turn down the music.

“God, I love the sound of that engine. It’s such a sexy purr.
Even better than the Ferrari.”

“Well, it is a Ferrari engine.” Samira said.

“Whatever, don’t care. Ferraris are just so shrill. This
sounds better. “ Ashleigh shimmied in her seat. “All bassy, throaty gorgeousness.”

“They should get you on the ads.” Samira said, amused.

“And you could drape yourself over the hood.”

“And scratch up the paintwork? Dad would kill me.”

“Worth it.” Ashleigh murmured.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Samira took it more gently as they turned off the Montauk
Highway heading towards the house. This was a condition of her mother letting her stay for
the week. Apparently last time there had been some complaints about her driving even
though, as she’d tried to argue, Maserati were a dime a dozen around the Hamptons, and it
may not have been her. Her mother had responded with a raised eyebrow and a steady
gaze. She capitulated. In Meadow Lane she dropped to a quiet cruise, which was more a
consequence of the traffic than true obedience on her part. For an exclusive road it was
surprisingly packed at this time of year as everyone tried to squeeze the last enjoyment out
of the stubbornly lingering summer season. Rightly so, she thought, given the endless blue
of the sky overhead.

Finally, she turned into the driveway, waited for the iron
gate to slide aside and headed up to the five-car garage under the house. With her parents
away all the vehicles were in their places except for the open slot next to the Jeep Cherokee
her father normally drove.

The girls popped the trunk and collected together their
various bags with the day’s shopping treasures before splitting off to their bedrooms.

“Cocktails in the pool house in ten minutes!” Samira called
as they headed off. Ashleigh raised a hand over her head in acknowledgement. Chelsea was
too busy dragging her fingers through her tangled hair. Good luck hun, Samira thought, the
only way that was getting sorted was with a wash and an intensive treatment. Actually,
Chelsea might need a treatment for her body too. Samira could see the beginnings of
sunburn flushing the back of Chelsea’s long pale legs beneath the denim cut-offs. Her back,
under the sheer grey top, had an ominous reddish glow about it too. Chelsea had been so
pleased to see sun after a long stint in Seattle that she took every chance she got to lay in it.
Particularly with her international financial services company assigning her to Manchester
for the next six months. Samira was going to miss her. Again. The long, lazy summers they
used to spend together as children seemed like a million years ago.

Samira dropped her packages in the living room and threw
open the doors onto the terrace letting the warm air flow into the house. The breeze was
light but carried the fresh, salt scent of the ocean with it. If it stayed warm, they might take
a walk down to the beach after dinner. By now the weather should have turned cooler and
autumn well established, but not this year. She crossed the terrace and unlocked the pool
house with the key set she kept in the handbag that was never far from her side. She’d
never really been a fan of how the pool house was set up. The bar and kitchen were at the
back with low couches in a lounge area between that and the French doors which led onto
the pool terrace. She would have preferred the bar at least to be closer to the terrace so it
was more accessible, and a person could keep connected to the conversation when an
alcoholic top up was needed. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she shook her head
at how appallingly boujee that sounded. Poor little rich girl. Her family’s holiday home’s pool
house was not to her liking. She’d been around the world enough to know that multiple
families could live in that space and be very pleased with the luxury

accommodation.

About the Author

Kathryn Allen is the author of
the novels Ever Man and Last Loose End and a number of short stories. These can be found
through Smashwords and Amazon. She enjoys the process of developing characters and
hooking elements of plot together to make interesting stories. Kathryn lives in Queensland
with her husband and dogs.

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook