SERIES REVIEW TOUR: “Weeps Indigo Series” by J.K. Jones

SERIES REVIEW TOUR

 

BOOK 1

Book Title: Weeps Indigo

Author: J.K. Jones

Publisher: Self-Published

Length: 370 pages

Release Date: May 18, 2019

Genre/s: Dark M/M Romance, Murder Mystery, LGBTQ horror and tragedy

Trope/s: Forbidden love, underage love, infidelity, mental illness

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness, cheating, lies, secrets, prostitution,

psychological abuse, physical abuse, unreliable narrator

Heat Rating: 3 flames

It is not a standalone story.

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A FALL FROM GRACE

 

Blurb

The Sheriff of Byrmonville, Richard Clayson, has a dark secret.

That night he found Beau walking down the familiar bleak streets, he knew exactly what he was doing. Watching him in the interrogation room, his eyes coveting the way that cigarette easily slid between his lips, the way the tattoos wrap easily around his flesh. Those eyes haunting and familiar, awakening something in him long since beaten dead.

He knew exactly what Beau’s nighttime occupation was.

It was his job. To investigate the things unknown, the things hiding in the darkness. He loved a good puzzle piece, a good riddle he could unravel.

Richard wasn’t a cop for nothing.

This is dangerous. Reckless. He could lose everything, hunting Beau like this.

So why can’t he stop?

 

Excerpt

It’s all about a boy.

A boy who changed his life. He’s not just any kind of boy. Not someone of social status or unforgettable features. Not a boy that throws tantrums or is the sort to excel at everything.

Richard bets he isn’t particularly athletic, nor is he quick when it comes to arithmetic. However, he isn’t ordinary. In retrospect, there’s absolutely nothing ordinary about him. For one thing, his attitude is foul, so much so that half the guys in the office cringe when he opens his mouth.

He’s rough around the edges with a boorish attitude which does nothing to inspire the idea that the youth of today will amount to much in the world. However, there is something incredibly striking about his pitch black, thick curly hair, his long straight nose, thin lips, dimpled grin and a beauty mark hovering the corner of his upper lip.

Richard mentally runs through the Blackwell’s sordid history in town. His brother’s been arrested more times than he can count and it seems Beau was headed in that same direction.

Beau smokes too much, drinks too much, swears too much—hell, he does everything he shouldn’t do in abundance.

Richard even spots a couple tattoos peeking out from underneath his shirt, and is immediately repulsed. How old is he anyway?

Beau takes out a packet of smokes, slides one between his thin lips, tilting his chin up exposing that beauty mark in a way that makes Richard feel things—things long since beaten dead.

 

BOOK 2

Book Title: Cage The Night

Author: J.K. Jones

Publisher: Self-Published

Length: 600 pages

Release Date: November 20, 2020

Genre/s: Dark M/M Romance, Murder Mystery, LGBTQ horror and tragedy

Trope/s: Forbidden love, underage love, infidelity, mental illness

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness, cheating, lies, secrets, prostitution,

psychological abuse, physical abuse, unreliable narrator

It is part two in the Weeps Indigo series. Book 3 is due for release in September 2021.

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A BATTLE WITHIN

 

Blurb

What happens when the hunter becomes the hunted?

When instead of running he is being chased? Richard doesn’t understand when or how things turned. He just knows the tightness in his chest intensifies, the demon is growing restless.

All he wants to do is go back in time and stop this whole thing from happening. Starting with the first day when he saw Beau in the interrogation room, Richard wants to stop himself from becoming mesmerized by those haunting emerald eyes and that otherworldly face.

He would stop the world from turning, the heavens opening up and beaming sunlight down on them. He would stop his heart, his lungs, and all the creatures in the world just so that he would never ever have to meet Beau.

 

Excerpt

By the time he makes it to the Blackwell residence the blood is pounding in his ears.

He can barely see straight. The rage is boiling over and there isn’t anything stopping the demon from tearing its way through.

The house comes into view, dilapidated on the hillside, crumbling piece of shit that Richard loathes more than anything. He presses harder on the gas, dirt and debris flies everywhere as he drives recklessly up the pathway. Sirens blare loudly, as he slams his foot on the brake, nearly crashing into the front porch. Richard flies out of the vehicle, leaving the door hanging wide open and stumbles up the porch with his gun heavy in hand.

There is nothing, white noise, air bustling in his ears and the tunnel vision of paralyzing vehemence. It’s dark, raw and savage, the demon’s lips curl, breathing fire and brimstone as he clatters his way up the stairway of the Blackwell property.

The M1191 is secure in his grasp, fingers tightening around the trigger because there will be nothing, but brutality, sickening violence of blood and guts and gore.

Wooden stairs creak and groan under his foreign weight, the screen door is hanging off its hinges and he knows, that there is something very very very wrong here.

 

About the Author

Heaven and hell, demons and angels. J.K Jones has always had an affinity for other worldly 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 is an avid reader, poet and LGBTQ activist. She is a York University graduate with a BA in Sociology, also has a TESOL certificate for teaching English as a Second Language.

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AUDIOBOOK REVIEW TOUR: “What Works For US”

AUDIOBOOK REVIEW TOUR

Book Title: What Works for Us

Author: Colette Davison

Publisher: Independently Published

Narrator: Dan Calley

Release Date: October 26, 2020

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: May to December, Daddy Kink, roleplay

Themes: Coming out, self-acceptance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 6 hours and 4 minutes

It is a standalone story.

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An elf costume, a pair of lacy knickers, and a Christmas charity auction might make Sam’s Christmas wish come true.

Blurb

When sweet barista, Sam, agrees to be a ‘slave’ in a Christmas charity auction, he’s thrilled to be bought by the man he’s had a crush on for the last three months.

Theodore is everything Sam is looking for in a man: older, authoritative, and caring. Unfortunately, Sam isn’t the most forward person when it comes to telling men he likes them. Wearing a sexy costume allows him to be a much flirtier version of himself, but can a naughty elf tempt Theodore into bed?

As their relationship intensifies, Sam finds something in Theodore he didn’t realise he needed: a man he wants to call his Daddy.

But Theodore isn’t out of the closet, and whilst Sam is happy existing in a bubble in the run up to Christmas, he knows that can’t last forever.

Can Sam risk giving his heart to a Daddy who might not ever be able to hold his hand in public, let alone commit to him?

What Works For Us is a Christmas-ish romance with an age-gap relationship, lacy underwear, role-play, Daddy kink, a smidge of hurt/comfort, and a guaranteed happy ending.

About the Author

Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Bonded” by Alana Timms

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Bonded (Latent Series Book 2)

Author: Alana Timms

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Resplendent Media

Release Date: December 11, 2020

Genre/s: Paranormal M/M Romance, LGBT Action & Adventure

Trope/s: Fated mates, alpha/omega, rivals-to-lovers, hurt/comfort

Themes: Redemption, overcoming obstacles

Length: 174 pages

Heat Rating: 5 flames

It is book 2 in the Latent Series.

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They’re bond-mates. They’re rivals.

Only one of them can take the prize…may the best wolf win.

Blurb

They’re bond-mates. They’re rivals. Only one of them can take the prize…may the best wolf win.

Alpha Zach Logan is taking part in the Top Dog survival challenge to secure his billion-dollar inheritance. The odds are in his favor. He has awakened his latent wolf, becoming the first verified shifter in over a century; no way can he lose. But his biggest rival is also his bond-mate, the omega he’s destined to spend the rest of his life with. Can Zach keep their conflict from spilling over into the bedroom?

Omega Sebastian Gage came to the Island to win. That trophy is his, and he will fight anyone for it. Yes, including his bond-mate, who is smart and generous and doesn’t deserve to lose. But them’s the breaks, because Sebastian needs this win to free himself from unjust suppressed shifter laws that limit omega rights.

The Island isn’t a tame playground, however, and not every competitor plays fair. Will the deadly game tear Zach and Sebastian’s fragile bond apart, or will love come out on top?

Bonded is Book 2 of the steamy paranormal m/m romance series Latent. If you like high stakes, sizzling chemistry and fiercely protective shifters, you’ll love Alana Timms’s wild adventure.

Bonded is best read after Fever, Book 1 of the Latent series. Unresolved plot elements make this story’s strong HFN ending a cliffhanger. Themes include hurt/comfort, pack dynamics, fated mates and rivals-to-lovers. Bonded contains adult material and is not intended for audiences under 18. Includes steamy scenes, strong language, violence and minor character death.

Excerpt

Outside on the deck, Sebastian set the table with a crisp white table cloth, glasses, and silverware. Table for two under a waxing moon. He lit a couple of candles, placing each in a candle lantern.

Too much? Kill the candles?

Too late; Zach came into sight carrying his backpack and shopping bags. He swept his gaze over Sebastian. Then looked him over again, slower, eating him up. Sebastian shivered; he couldn’t hold the ocean breeze responsible for it. Not when his pulse raced as well. Zach dumped the bags, and prowled onto the deck. He fucking prowled, telegraphing his X-rated thoughts through a subtle change in his scent and the fierce intent in his darkened gaze.

“You look good,” said Zach.

His voice was laced with gravel; a near-growl that pitched Sebastian into full-blown lust. His stiffening dick pushed at the front panel of his kilt. His hole clenched hard around the butt-plug, wild for the real thing.

“Thanks?” Sebastian heard it, the uncertainty as though he were asking a question. He injected more authority into his voice. “You too. I like the haircut.”

Zach smiled. His dimples told a lie. Cute, they said, adorable.

Yeah, same way a tiger was adorable. Zach’s aura pulsated with barely leashed power. Raw and intoxicating, it put a dent in Sebastian’s authority. He hated this shift in their dynamics. But he loved how hot Zach made him feel.

“You’ve been busy,” said Zach, stopping within kissing distance.

So why weren’t they doing that, kissing? He couldn’t think of a good reason why Zach’s tongue wasn’t in his mouth. “Busy? You mean the table?”

“I mean busy claiming points for nailing my ass.”

He was supposed to feel guilty, but that was difficult to do given the memory of him fucking Zach through the jungle floor. “Oh, that.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that anymore.”

A flare of panic. “What, nailing your ass?”

“Sex points.” Zach grabbed his hips and walked him backwards across the deck until his back hit the wall. “We’re not claiming points for sex anymore, Sebastian.”

Wedged between a wall and a hard Zach, staying on topic was becoming a real problem. He curled his hands on Zach’s shoulders, his fingers twitching as a tide of sensation swept through him from Zach.

“It’s the rules, Zach. We have to put in claims for all transactions.”

A muscle ticked in Zach’s jaw. He exhaled with force. “Apart from intimate ones, those are ours. They’re between me and you. Not between you, me, and the Auditors.”

Intimate was exactly it. A tide of intimacy flowing between them. He’d swear it was the bond creating new pathways, opening them up to each other. He bent his head a little to line his mouth up with Zach’s.

Zach kissed him softly, taking such infinite care that Sebastian lost his breath.

“How much for that, Seb? Ten points, a hundred? How about this?” Zach asked, and kissed him again.

No softness this time. Zach took what he wanted with the demanding sweep of his tongue. Sebastian let him in on a throaty moan, basking in pleasure. And sighing in frustration when Zach pulled back.

“Answer me. How many points?”

He tipped his head back to rest it against the wall, all kinds of turned on by Zach’s commanding tone. “I get it, all right? Points are stupid. But can we just play the game like it’s supposed to be played? Please?”

“It’s none of their business what goes on between us, Seb.”

He recognized stubborn when he saw it. Zach wouldn’t budge on this. But neither would he, because he wasn’t about to risk getting fined for flouting the rules.

“A foot race,” he said. “I win, we forget this conversation ever happened. You win, we quit claiming sex points.”

Zach cocked his head. “You’re challenging me?”

“Yes, I am.”

Zach’s eyes flashed, his smile wolfish. “Challenge accepted.”

His own wolf stirred at the flashing eyes: tread carefully. But there was no risk involved here, was there? He could break free of Zach’s grip on his hips any time he wanted.

What he wanted were more kisses.

About the Author

Alana is an avid fan of romance novels, mostly reading m/m romance. Drawn to growly alphas and their feisty omegas, she set out to write her debut paranormal m/m romance trilogy, Latent. Alana loves to write flawed characters and works at giving them complexity. Their paths to happiness may not be smooth, but they always get there in the end! When she’s not reading or writing, Alana enjoys hiking in the forests and beaches near her home on the east coast of England.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Dear Daddy, Please Hold Us” by Colette Davison

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Dear Daddy, Please Hold Us

Author: Colette Davison

Publisher: Independently Published

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: December 8, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: MMM, Daddy kink, age gap, age play

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 70 000 words

It is a standalone story.

It’s part of the Naughty or Nice multi-author series.

Find the other books here

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All Zeke wants for Christmas is a Daddy for two. Can his wish come true?

Blurb

Dear Santa,
If I could make one wish this Christmas, it would be for a Daddy with a big enough heart for two. We both want a Daddy who can be loving, but also firm when he needs to be, who enjoys spanking his boys and making their asses red, and with big enough arms to hold us both.

We need a Daddy who can help us let go and relax.

Lastly, but probably most importantly, we need a Daddy who can meet both our needs. I don’t have many boundaries as long as I can trust my Daddy, and I’m open to trying new things. Rett…well, he’s a little more reserved but he has a huge heart, and he’s the sweetest boy you’ll ever meet.

Here’s the thing, Santa: I have a little over a week to convince Rett to stay. I don’t know if you can magic up a Daddy who can love us both, but I’m making this wish anyway.

With hope,
Zeke

Dear Daddy, Please Hold us is an MMM Christmas romance, with a pair of army brats, an Englishman in New York who knows how to handle them, a purple triceratops teddy, and lots of sweet cuddles.

This book is part of the Naughty or Nice multi-author series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but there are so many boys hoping that holiday magic will bring them their perfect Daddy, why not grab them all?

Excerpt

As they helped me clean up after dinner, I tried to work out what kind of scene would make them both feel cared for and wanted in equal measure.

Then came a moment when we were all in closer quarters than we had been the whole evening. There wasn’t a lot of space between the kitchen counters and the breakfast bar, so while Rett was loading the dishwasher, I was drying the pots that couldn’t go in, and Zeke was putting the wine glasses away, both young men were within touching distance.

I put down the pot I was drying and the tea towel, and as soon as Zeke had closed the cupboard door, I hooked my finger through his belt loop, tugged him close, and mashed my lips to his in a commanding kiss. He let out a throaty chuckle. When he pressed his body against mine, I felt the makings of an erection through his jeans.

Rett was crouched down by the open dishwasher, eyes wide as he watched us. Had he ever seen his best friend kiss another man before? As I wrapped one arm around Zeke’s back, I wriggled my fingers at Rett, inviting him to join us. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t, but then he stood, closed the dishwasher, and edged closer, one tentative step at a time. As soon as he was close enough, I put my arm around his waist and pulled him to me. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, their bodies tracing mine. I tore my mouth from Zeke’s and, with his saliva still damp on my lips, kissed Rett.

“Oh, Daddy, that’s hot,” Zeke breathed as he watched the two of us kiss.

Hearing him call me ‘Daddy’ sent blood pulsing to my cock. It was good to know Zeke felt comfortable enough to say it, and it made me long for the moment ‘Daddy’ would cross Rett’s lips too.

Rett put his hand on my chest and gripped my shirt in his fingers. He relaxed a little against me, but there was still far too much tension in his slender body.

“Now kiss each other,” I commanded.

They didn’t hesitate. They kissed each other dirtily for me, sucking each other’s tongues as I held them. Then Zeke’s mouth was on mine again, and a few seconds later, I was kissing Rett once more. Zeke sought out Rett’s neck with his mouth, sucking and kissing in a way I was sure was going to leave a mark. Rett moaned as we both lavished attention on him, and his body became a little more pliant in my arms.

I ran my hands down to their arses and squeezed, tugging them so I could feel every inch of their bodies against mine.

“Let’s move to the bedroom.”

About the Author

Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook Page | Facebook Group: Colette’s Cosy Corner

BookBub | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram: @colettedavison

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Bring to Light” by C.F. White. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Bring to Light (London Lies #3)

Author: C F White

Publisher: C F White

Cover Artist: Etheral Designs

Release Date: December 10, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance, Romantic Suspense

Trope/s: Hurt/Comfort

Themes: Coming out

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 79 000 words/358 pages

It is book 3 and the final part in the London Lies series.

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It’s a race against time, with a deadline not only on their story or their growing relationship but on their entire lives.

 

Blurb

Jackson Young and Fletcher Doherty are back in London and on a mission—to bring to light the murky underbelly of the Charles Payne media empire and, in doing so, get justice for the murder of Tallulah Payne.

It’s not a simple task though. They need proof. They need people to speak up. And they need to keep their hands off each other long enough to track down the other manipulated Lotus Flowers, convince them to come forward and find a way to bring it all to the public. Not so easy when they’re up against the most powerful men in London who are determined to separate and silence them by any means possible.

It’s a race against time, with a deadline not only on their story or their growing relationship but on their entire lives.

 

Excerpt

Jackson Young was a new man.

The sweet, shallow breaths trickling onto his neck were testament to that transformation. He shuffled back, his skin erupting delightful goosepimples that tingled and stirred and itched for him to beg for more. He refused to move. He couldn’t bear to move. Nor to wake up. This was where he wanted to stay. Closed-in. Coddled. Safe. And wrapped up in arms and legs that clung to him like a limpet.

Like a lover.

The birds outside tweeted and morning light bled through the gaps in the blinds. Jackson wondered, for the few moments he now had to lie as content as he were, if he would ever get used to waking immersed in such nirvana. He hoped not. That would be admitting defeat. He would pray to never get used to having one of Fletcher Doherty’s legs flung haphazardly over his hip, one of his arms draped over his chest, and his face nuzzling into his neck and inhaling him as though he was the cool morning air. Because this, right now, was perfection personified. His perfect moment. He never wanted to take it for granted. He’d discovered that there was life after the Jax. And if this was it, he never wanted it to end.

Because he could live like this forever.

However long that might be.

Fletcher jerked. Then, sliding away, he rubbed his eyes, and that miniscule movement declared the self-indulgence was over. Jackson remained where he was, facing away in the bed and curled up, hoping that Fletcher would forget what was lying in wait for them and sink back in beside him.

He’d never been this needy. Not for another man. But Fletcher was everything he’d ever craved wrapped up in everything he’d always desired. He was like the drink. The coke. The lights, camera, action that had fuelled his needs since the early years. Fletcher was his addiction. His lifeblood. His obsession. The air he needed to breathe.

But if Fletcher found out any of that, he’d make Jackson go cold turkey.

So he didn’t say it. And he wouldn’t say it. He muted himself.

No comment.

The covers slipped from his body and he shivered. Fletcher rolled away, lifted, and checked the illuminated numbers on the digital clock. He then fell back to the pillows with a sigh and the scratching of fingertips down coarse facial hair indicated that any moment now, Fletcher would declare their peace and tranquility in the safe haven of a Surrey B&B had come to a bitter end.

As he would no doubt, any second now, say—

“Jackson?”

Jackson didn’t respond. Nor move. He feigned the deepest of sleeps. If Fletcher was going to start the day, then Jackson wanted him to start it the right way. For them both.

Fletcher kicked him under the duvet. “I know you’re awake.”

That wasn’t exactly what Jackson had had in mind. But he smiled, and with him facing away, Fletcher wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Fecking eejit.” Fletcher rolled back, clasped his arms around him and hauled him to his chest. Then, settling those soft, enticing lips of his to Jackson’s ear, he rumbled a deep and guttural, “Get up.”

Jackson twisted, falling into Fletcher’s arms and attacked the moment to kiss him. “I’m up,” he declared against the breath that he craved like he once had alcohol, and thrust his morning erection against Fletcher’s.

No, he wouldn’t ever get used to waking like this. He’d cherish it. And not take it for granted like he had every other morning of his life thus far. It might have been contrite. A tad inappropriate, perhaps. And not the time to be indulging in each other’s arms. But if they couldn’t do it now, when could they? Would they ever get to the point where they could be entangled in each other without the dark clouds looming over them? Without the threat? Without the fear and worry and everything else that had brought them together in the first place.

Relationships built under stress never lasted.

So like the meals he’d had to consume in a timely manner when incarcerated at HMP Flaymore, he wanted to get what he could, while he could.

“We have to get going,” Fletcher breathed out between heated kisses.

“Then maybe just get me off?” Jackson asked the question with a hopeful lilt and a smidgen of jest by rutting himself forward. He shouldn’t feel guilty about wanting to make up for lost time and living his life to the full now he knew what it was he wanted.

And what he wanted was the naked Irishman snuggled next to him and gripping him as though he was about to fall.

He had already, of course. But he couldn’t say that. Not yet.

 

About the Author

Brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.

Studying at a West London university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly search for the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down coffee.

Eventually she moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.

After her second son was born with a rare disability, C F White’s life changed and it brought pen back to and paper after having written stories as a child but never had the confidence to show them to the world. Now, having embarked on this writing journey, C F White can’t stop.

So strap in, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Honorable Convictions” by Jessamyn Kingley

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Honorable Convictions (D’Vaire, Book 20)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: December 10, 2020

Genre/s: M/M Urban Fantasy Romance

Trope/s: Fated mates, enemies to lovers

Themes: Fate, love, second chances

Heat Rating: 3 flames

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To find love, two bitter rivals must start over or end their matebond forever.

 

Blurb

From the moment he is resurrected, Mitchell Brooks is full of ambition and determined to win at all costs. The fresh recruit pushes himself to the limit and earns the title of Juris Knight, a highly respected position within the Order of the Fallen Knights. Mitchell wants to be the best of his graduating class, but the task is impossible because there is someone in his way—the man who happens to be his mate.

Pierson Murphy is brought to life with the gift of a perfect memory and miserable resurrection sickness. After three days of suffering, he begins his journey toward Juris Knight and excels, achieving perfect scores on every aptitude test. However, Pierson struggles with an inability to relate to everyone—including the man supposedly destined to be his other half.

They keep their matebond a secret and after weeks of discord, they are sent to different cities and go their separate ways with bitter confrontations their only memory. A century later, Pierson has a spotless reputation and zero friends. Horribly burned out and aching for something more, he transfers to another office.

His reassignment is the impetus Mitchell needs to end the fierce competition with the man he should have treasured, and he shows up on Pierson’s doorstep, prepared to start over. However, Pierson is ready to move on and wants anyone other than Mitchell. With so many barriers standing between them, is it possible to find love and honor Fate?

 

Excerpt

“Brooks, are you awake over there?” VK Ruarc called out. Mitchell snapped to attention, and his gaze automatically went to the blond standing on the mat. Sheepishly, Mitchell got to his feet. Unaware that anyone was waiting for him, he’d zoned out.

“I apologize, Venerable Knight. I was daydreaming.”

“Save that for after class,” VK Ruarc ordered. “Murphy needs a partner.”

“Right,” Mitchell said and stood in front of Pierson, who was staring at a point somewhere past his right shoulder. “You ready, Murphy?”

“I’m not the one who was delving into fantasy in the middle of class,” Pierson stated tightly. VK Ruarc left them, no doubt to give Wade some helpful advice since Trista had knocked him on his ass.

“Maybe I didn’t want to hurt you again, Blondie.”

Whether it was the words or his tone, Pierson’s eyes met his and there was nothing to read in his flat expression. “Let’s just do this shit.”

“Whatever you want.”

Letting out a huff, Pierson raised his hands and tried to hit Mitchell. It was easy to smack his arm out of the way and though Pierson was his mate, he refused to give him any quarter. Mitchell swung his foot out, then struck Pierson with a blow to his midsection. Staggering a few steps, Pierson barely managed to stay on the mat.

“Come at me, Blondie. Stop holding back.”

His mouth tightening into a line, Pierson charged forward but nothing about his attack was coordinated, and seconds later he landed on his butt. Mitchell reached to help him up, but Pierson slapped the proffered limb out of his face and bounded to the balls of his feet.

“Fight me,” Pierson demanded.

“Relax, this is supposed to be friendly competition.”

Pierson tried to get in a punch, but Mitchell moved deftly out of reach. “Everyone knows I’m terrible at this. I don’t need you to make it worse.”

“Make it worse? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Stop patronizing me by trying to help me up,” Pierson ordered when Mitchell landed a blow south of his collarbone.

“I do that for everyone, not because we’re—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” Pierson said through gritted teeth, finally moving quickly enough to shove Mitchell.

“Why not?”

“You know why not. We’re supposed to be focused on training, not that other stuff.”

“That other stuff is supposed to be the foundation of our lives.”

“You don’t need to talk so loud; someone’s going to hear you.”

Mitchell’s boot connected with Pierson’s hip hard enough that he once again slammed into the mat. For once, he had no remorse about taking him down. There was nothing wrong with announcing their matebond, and it pissed him off that they had to keep quiet for no good reason other than Pierson’s hard head.

“You getting up, Blondie?”

With a glare, Pierson rose. “I hate this shit,” he muttered.

“Well, I hate your stupid high test scores.”

Pierson nailed him in the shin, and Mitchell’s wince made him smile. “I’m sorry that you don’t apply yourself to our written stuff the way that I do. You apparently prefer to practice fighting.”

Mitchell was stunned speechless for a moment, and it allowed Pierson to sneak in another blow he should’ve blocked. Since the first day Pierson had achieved a perfect grade, Mitchell spent every available hour reading and studying their assignments. There was still some energy devoted to the gym, but the bulk of his focus was trying to get anywhere near Pierson’s results. “I am trying, Blondie.”

“Really? Because it seems like you care more about hanging out with your friends than worrying about what kind of assignment you’re going to wind up with.”

“There’s nothing wrong with building relationships with the other recruits,” Mitchell retorted, shoving Pierson to the edge of the mat. Mitchell was slightly impressed that he didn’t land on his ass again.

“It’s a waste of time.”

“You’ve memorized the damn manual. You should know that teamwork and camaraderie is an important part of being a fallen knight.”

“Except that it says that while on the job you need to be cordial and make overtures toward your coworkers. This is training. Not one of those people is going to be in your life after the next seven weeks are complete.”

“It doesn’t hurt to have contacts in other cities, Blondie.”

“It’s too late for that.”

Mitchell’s brows drew together, and he circled around the perimeter of the pad as he tried to keep Pierson at bay while using his obviously feebler gray matter to discern his words. “Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Charging forward, Mitchell purposely swept Pierson’s hands aside and hit his shoulder with enough force that he hit the ground. “We already have enough shit you refuse to discuss, Blondie. You need to stop hiding under your little mask and talk to me.”

With a ferocious glare, Pierson slapped his palms down and dragged himself up. “Why are you always ordering me around?”

“Me? You’re the one with all the crazy demands.”

“Crazy demands?”

“Yes, but I can’t get into specifics because apparently there are some words in the English language our mighty Blondie is refusing to allow me to utter,” Mitchell retorted in a mocking voice meant to resemble Pierson’s slightly higher octave.

“Stop calling me that.”

 

About the Author

 

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

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

Visit her website

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BLOG TOUR: “As Far Ad I Can Tell: Finding My Father In World War II” by Philip Gambone

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: As Far As I Can Tell: Finding My Father In World War II

Author: Philip Gambone

Publisher: Rattling Good Yarns Press

Release Date: October 30, 2020

Genre: Memoir

Trope/s: Father/Son Relationships

Themes: Connecting to the past, Understanding our fathers,

Father/Son silence and the inherent lack of communications,

Coming to terms with history

Heat Rating: 2 flames Length: 155 000 words/474 pages

It is a standalone book.

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Buy Links

Publisher

(Note – The Rattling Good Yarns online store only ships within the US)

Amazon US | Amazon UK

2021 Lambda Literary Award Nominated

 

Blurb

Philip Gambone, a gay man, never told his father the reason why he was rejected from the draft during the Vietnam War. In turn, his father never talked about his participation in World War II. Father and son were enigmas to each other. Gambone, an award-winning novelist and non-fiction writer, spent seven years uncovering who the man his quiet, taciturn father had been, by retracing his father’s journey through WWII. As Far As I Can Tell not only reconstructs what Gambone’s father endured, it also chronicles his own emotional odyssey as he followed his father’s route from Liverpool to the Elbe River. A journey that challenged the author’s thinking about war, about European history, and about “civilization.”

 

Philip Gambone weaves a moving memoir of his family, a vivid portrayal of his travels through the locales of WWII, and a powerful description of what that war was like to the men who fought it on the ground into a seamless and eloquent narrative.” — Hon. Barney Frank, former Congressman, Massachusetts

“A single question pulses through As Far As I Can Tell: why didn’t my father talk about his time in the war? With meticulous research, Philip Gambone puts sound to silence, offering us a book-length love letter, not just to his father, but to anyone whose life has been hemmed in by obligation, obedience, and the brutality of the system. It’s also a coming to terms with the unknown in others, which is its own hard grace. A vital, dynamic read.” — Paul Lisicky, author of Later: My Life at the Edge of the World

“As Far As I Can Tell is a fascinating mix of autobiography, travelogue, and historical research that not only takes us on a great adventure in search of what World War Two was like for those who fought in the European theater but probes that most difficult of all subjects, the relationship between a father and a son — in this case, a gay son. Extensively researched, highly literate and profoundly thoughtful, the story Gambone tells uses not only soldiers’ memoirs but writers as disparate as Samuel Johnson and James Lord to make this a reader’s delight.”— Andrew Holleran, author of Dancer from the Dance

 

Excerpt

On February 12, 1942, Dad reported for induction. The chief business was the physical examination, which was conducted assembly-line fashion. The inductees were naked, wearing only a number around their necks. It was the most comprehensive physical most of them had ever had. For some it was intimidating, for others embarrassing.

Most inductees were eager to pass the physical exam, so eager in fact that in many cases, they indulged in “negative malingering,” trying to conceal conditions that might get them disqualified. Once the physical was out of the way, the only screening that remained was a brief interview with an army psychiatrist, who had been instructed to look for “neuropsychosis,” a diagnosis that covered all sort of emotional ills from phobias to excessive sweating and evidence of mental deficiency.

Paul Marshall, who ended up in the same division as Dad, remembered being asked at his physical if he liked girls. “I didn’t quite understand what he meant about it. I told him, ‘Why sure, I like girls.’” Later Marshall figured out what he was really being asked. “The ultimate question mark of manliness,” James Lord, himself a homosexual, recalled. “Do you like girls? Or prefer confinement in a federal penitentiary for the remainder of your unnatural life.” The terror of being considered a sexual leper or worse, “unfit to honor the flag of your forebears,” was real. Lord answered, Yes, he liked girls, and was promptly accepted into the army.

Not every homosexual inductee lied. Some, like Donald Vining, came clean with his interviewer, who turned out to be “marvelously tolerant, taking the whole thing easily and calmly, without shock and without condescension.” The interviewer marked Vining’s papers “sui generis ‘H’ overt,” and he was out.

My father passed his induction physical. Hale, hearty, and decidedly heterosexual, he needed none of the remedial medical work—dental, optometric—that millions of other inductees did. With the physical and the psychological screenings done, Dad signed his induction papers, was fingerprinted, and issued a serial number. The final piece of business was the administration of the oath of allegiance, done, according to army regulations, “with proper ceremony.” Once sworn in, Dad was sent home to put things in order before he went off to Camp Perry to be processed for basic training.

Twenty-eight years after Dad’s, my own induction notice arrived, during my senior year in college. I was instructed to report to my hometown on May 6, where the Army would put me on a bus and drive me to the Armed Forces Examining and Entrance Station in South Boston. I remember standing, before dawn, on a curb outside the town offices waiting for the bus. Other fellows from my high school were there, and I nervously tried to make small talk with them. We’d had nothing in common in high school, and the situation hadn’t changed in the intervening years.

My recollection of that day is shrouded in numbness. I remember standing in a line, stripped to my underwear, making my way from one examining station to the next. I kept assuring myself I could not possibly go to Vietnam, that the good fortune I’d enjoyed so far would see me to a different destiny than the one where I would end up dead in a jungle in Southeast Asia.

I was clutching a letter from my dentist attesting to the fact that I needed braces, in those days a cause for rejection. But aside from that, I had not taken any steps to ensure that I wouldn’t be taken. I’d heard stories of guys planning to go to their induction physicals drunk, or stoned, or wearing dresses and makeup. Others said they would flee to Canada or apply for conscientious objector status. I had made no such plans. Throughout senior year, I had been sitting on my damn butt, still banking on magic or luck to get me the hell out.

I passed every exam. I was not overweight. I did not have flat feet or a heart murmur. My blood pressure was excellent. At one station, I handed over the dentist’s letter. The examiner gave it a perfunctory glance and tucked it into my file.

At last, I came to the psychological screening area. All I remember is the examiner asking me if I’d ever had any homosexual experiences. And when I said yes, he followed up with a few more questions. Had I sought counseling? Did I intend to stop? That was it. He thanked me and I moved on. Less than two weeks later, I received a notice from the AFEES: “Found Not Acceptable

for Induction Under Current Standards.” I’d been declared 4-F. In the parlance of the day, I had “fagged out.” My parents thought the dentist’s letter about braces had done the trick.

 

About the Author

Philip Gambone is a writer of fiction and nonfiction. His debut collection of short stories, The Language We Use Up Here, was nominated for a Lambda Literary Award. His novel, Beijing, was nominated for two awards, including a PEN/Bingham Award for Best First Novel.

Phil has extensive publishing credits in nonfiction as well. He has contributed numerous essays, reviews, features pieces, and scholarly articles to several local and national journals including The New York Times Book Review and The Boston Globe. He is a regular contributor to The Gay & Lesbian Review.

His longer essays have appeared in a number of anthologies, including Hometowns, Sister and Brother, Wrestling with the Angel, Inside Out, Boys Like Us, Wonderlands, and Big Trips.

Phil’s book of interviews, Something Inside: Conversations with Gay Fiction Writers, was named one of the “Best Books of 1999” by Pride magazine. His Travels in a Gay Nation: Portraits of LGBTQ Americans was nominated for an American Library Association Award.

Phil’s scholarly writing includes biographical entries on Frank Kameny in the Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford) and Gary Glickman in Contemporary Gay American Novelists: A Bio-Bibliographical Critical Sourcebook. He also wrote three chapters on Chinese history for two high school textbooks published by Cheng and Tsui.

He is a recipient of artist’s fellowships from the MacDowell Colony, the Helene Wurlitzer Foundation, and the Massachusetts Arts Council. He has also been listed in Best American Short Stories.

Phil taught high school English for over forty years. He also taught writing at the University of Massachusetts, Boston College, and in the freshman expository writing program at Harvard. He was twice awarded Distinguished Teaching Citations by Harvard. In 2013, he was honored by the Department of Continuing Education upon completing his twenty-fifth year of teaching for the Harvard Extension School.

 

 

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Continue ReadingBLOG TOUR: “As Far Ad I Can Tell: Finding My Father In World War II” by Philip Gambone

RELEASE BLITZ: “IRA (Vendetta 4)” by Leigh Kenzie. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Ira (Vendetta 4)

Author: Leigh Kenzie

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Temptation Creations

Release Date: December 3, 2020

Genre/s: Dark M/M

Trope/s: Dark M/M Mafia

Themes: Captive/Captor, Forced Submission, Kink, Non-con, Obsession

Warnings: Please be advised this book contains graphic violence, torture, and murder. It also includes non-con, psychological torture, and various kinks. The book also includes significant homophobic scenes. Some readers may find this material triggering. It is intended for a mature audience 18 years of age and up.

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 50 700 words

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Out of Nightmares can come Dreams

Blurb

Allesandro
My fury consumes me. Nobody is safe from it. I will bring my Emilio home. I will rebuild my empire. I’ll demolish anyone standing in my way.

Emilio
He thinks he has me beat. He thinks he’s in control. If there’s one thing Master taught me, I make my own destiny. I’ll claw my own way out and when I do they’d better prepare. Nobody has ever seen the likes of me.

What happens when vengeance and fury twist together?

Trigger warnings: Contains graphic violence, extreme sexual situations, and homophobic scenes. Please see inside for more warnings.


This is a continuous series. The first three books must be read prior to this one. Book 5 releasing early 2021.

Excerpt

Peter POV

I wake up from my nap gasping. The memory of Daniel dying is rushing through me as I push through the last remnants of sleep. I lie there for a moment, trying to reconcile everything. I’m not sure who to be the most pissed at. I knew he wasn’t happy, he said I shouldn’t have taken him out of the hospital. His urges were too much for him to handle, but damn, he could have talked to me. I bite my tongue hard enough to draw blood when I think of Eamon. Fucker put Daniel in that situation to take that bullet, hiding the knowledge that they were real, because if I’d known then, fuck no, I wouldn’t have allowed it. He never understood brotherly love, though. I shouldn’t have waited. I should have taken Eamon out first. But it’s too late for that.

Lio. Lio pulled the fucking trigger. A deep growl builds in my chest. I loved him. I gave him everything, and he repaid me by killing my brother. Daniel’s voice echoes in my brain about needing to keep calm, not to punish Lio for not being perfect, but damn it, Lio has always been perfect. It’s why he’s mine. It’s why I found him, took him, and did everything I could for him. I take deep breaths, trying to rein in the anger and the poisonous hate that wants to spread. Maybe I just need to push him more, make him earn his forgiveness. I’m not fucking sure at this point if that’s possible, but maybe it’ll work. Maybe I can recapture our love. Maybe…

I startle when I notice he’s not in bed with me. I’ve been so lost in my head. Memories of what I did earlier float in my mind, and I quickly move to look at the floor. I exhale forcefully when I see him. I feared for a split-second that he’d escaped, but he didn’t. It means he knows he needs to be punished, he needs it the same way I do.

He doesn’t raise his head even as I move. I know kneeling for so long must be hurting his knees, but I don’t give a shit. I reach out and grab his hair, forcefully bringing him up and onto the bed. The way he scrambles slowly to move tells me how stiff he is from holding the same position for so long. I violently push him on his back and straddle him, grabbing his throat with my hand and squeezing. He doesn’t fight back, although I wish he would. His face steadily changes color, and tears roll down his face, making a pathway through the dried cum, but still, he doesn’t fight. The most he does is tilt his head back to give me better access. I wrench my hand off his neck, letting him draw in huge gasps of air. I punch the pillow by his head, barely missing his face. That, at least, draws a reaction from him. The flinch and fear. I want his fear. I need it.

About the Author

Leigh is a dark M/M romance author from Texas with two needy terrors of terriers and a chaotic family. She considers coffee a major food group and her family fears broken coffeemakers. She writes in her spare time, forced to the keyboard by characters entirely too vocal in her opinion and often falls victim to plot monkeys. In between creating mayhem with her characters and friends, her hope is to transport readers to fictional places and provide darkness with a twist.

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Continue ReadingRELEASE BLITZ: “IRA (Vendetta 4)” by Leigh Kenzie. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!