RELEASE BLITZ: “The Queering” by Brooke Skipstone

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Queering

Author and Publisher: Brooke Skipstone

Cover Artist: Cherie Chapman

Release Date: January 19, 2023

Genre: Contemporary F/F Romance, Historical F/F Romance, YA LGBTQ+

Tropes: Friends to lovers, Coming of age

Themes: Coming out, finding love late in life

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 92 000 words/ 318 pages

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

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

Trapped between a homicidal brother and a homophobic podcaster eager to reveal her lesbian romance novels, a seventy-year-old grandmother seeks help in Clear, Alaska.

 

Blurb

Editor’s Pick Booklife Reviews: A fast-paced yet thoughtful romance of coming out and finding love in later life in Alaska

5 Star Clarion Reviews: A riveting novel . . . about love, courage, and solidarity


Trapped between a homicidal brother and a homophobic podcaster eager to reveal her lesbian romance novels, a seventy-year-old grandmother seeks help in Clear, Alaska.

Suffocating in a loveless marriage and lonely existence, Taylor MacKenzie lives only through her writing, using the pen name Brooke Skipstone, her best friend in college and lover before her death in 1974.

Afraid of being murdered before anyone in her family or community knows her life story, Taylor writes an autobiography about her time with Brooke and shares it with those closest to her, hoping for understanding and acceptance.

Accused of promoting the queering and debasement of America by a local podcaster, Taylor embroils the conservative community in controversy but fights back with the help of a new, surprising friend.

Can she endure the attacks from haters and gaslighters? Can she champion the queering she represents?

And will she survive?

 

Excerpt

NO ONE in the world is actually named Brooke Skipstone.

Not for almost fifty years.

Taylor Baird MacKenzie, a long-term substitute teacher in Clear, Alaska, knew her secret had already begun to unravel. Brooke wrote novels about lesbian liberation, fierce coming-of-age stories full of high family drama. Her readers probably pictured an author in her thirties with tattoos and a gender-fluid appearance.

Certainly not a seventy-year-old grandmother with long, thick hair—still more brown than gray—wearing lined leggings and an oversized hoodie that covered her butt. And unhappily married to the same man for over forty years.

Much too old and too obviously straight to be writing such novels.

Soon, everyone would know the truth—she was the author Brooke Skipstone. How big would the shockwave be?

Taylor had long feared the repercussions and kept her pen name secret. What would her kids say? And her grandkids, who hardly knew her because she lived so far from them. And saw them even less than usual because of Covid. At times the thought of discovery had seared her guts, but the liberation of writing what she wanted, revealing the characters living in her mind and the love and pain in her heart, had become her main reason for existence.

While at her keyboard, Taylor lost herself in her secret world—vibrant, passionate, full of laughter and turmoil and utter joy. Not like her real world of silence and numbing isolation, where she couldn’t talk about what mattered most to her.

Keeping the source of her greatest happiness a secret had suffocated her life.

Taylor stood at her classroom door before her last class of the day, while students thumbed phones and talked as they sat at a picnic table in the center of the Commons area. The same kind of table she and Brooke sat at in the spring of 1973.

 

Soon after Taylor’s college roommate and fellow theatre major, Brooke Tobolovsky turned twenty-one, Brooke changed her last name. Though she didn’t have the internet to check, she said she had never heard of anyone named Skipstone, so claimed it for herself. She thought it sounded cool. Much better for the stage and screen. Besides, she’d always hated the sound of Tobolovsky.

Regardless of her name, no one could ever forget her. Long, thick, cinnamon-colored hair; high forehead; deep-set blue eyes; and the biggest smile Taylor had ever seen. She could play Lady Macbeth just as easily as Juliet and belt out a song like a combination of Cher and Stevie Nicks. She was the natural lead, while Taylor was the utility player—competent actress, writer, composer, and organizational queen.

Once all the legal papers were complete, they celebrated with a pitcher of beer at The Hangout a few blocks from Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Texas. They sat at a picnic table under canvas stretched between oak trees, blocking the March sun. Brooke carved her new name on the bench as they pushed flip-flops through pea gravel and peanut shells.

“Does this mean I can’t call you Tobo anymore?” Taylor laughed and snorted beer.

Brooke scoffed with a quick flash of her eyes, “I’ve put a curse on that name, as you can see. Say it at your peril.” She cocked an eyebrow.

Taylor coughed this time, spewing beer on her shirt.

“I always knew you couldn’t hold your liquor.” Brooke wiped Taylor’s chin with a napkin.

“That word will never cross my lips again.”

“Which word?” Brooke teased. Her tongue peeked out the side of her mouth as she dabbed the snot from Taylor’s upper lip. “Hmm?”

Flashing a smile, Taylor said, “From now on, you’ll be BS to me. Nothing but BS.”

Brooke narrowed her eyes and tightened her mouth. “You’d better be referring to Brooke Skipstone.”

Taylor raised her hands and cocked her head in a perfect expression of amused innocence. “Certainly.” She tried to swallow the guffaw rising from her gut. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

They stared at each other for three seconds, each holding her pose until Brooke broke into a smile. “That’s BS and you know it.”

Taylor’s guffaw erupted, and in their laughter-filled haze, they both knocked their glasses to the ground. No matter. They drank from the pitcher and later started a burping contest. Taylor conceded when Brooke burped the chorus of “I Am Woman,” earning a standing ovation from the crowd of hippie students and locals that had gathered around them. The girls walked home, Taylor’s arm around her friend’s neck; Brooke’s around the other’s waist.

They were known as B&T because they were inseparable. They’d shared the ground floor of a small rental house since sophomore year but spent most of their time acting, hanging lights, building sets, and running shows at the Owens Art Center. If one of them wasn’t around the other, people would invariably ask, “Where’s ___?” with a little frown and gasp.

Taylor wrote and directed plays and musicals mainly for teens, while Brooke snagged major acting roles every year. Taylor was involved in every one of Brooke’s shows, while Brooke sang and acted in each of Taylor’s studio productions.

They were two promising women, determined to make their own way in the world and support each other’s careers in theatre—Brooke as an actress at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland and Taylor as a drama teacher at a private school in a nearby city. After breaking up with their casual boyfriends and graduating in 1974, they headed west in a very used VW Camper Bus adorned with painted flowers to cover the rust.

They loved each other completely as friends and had only become lovers two days before Brooke’s death.

 

About the Author

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


The Queering is her fifth novel. Visit her website at for information about her first four novels—The Moonstone Girls, Crystal’s House of Queers, Some Laneys Died, and Someone To Kiss My Scars.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Instagram

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Playing Dirty” by Beth Bolden.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Playing
Dirty

Author and Publisher: Beth
Bolden

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood
Designs

Release Date: January 12,
2023

Genres: Gay contemporary
sports romance

Tropes: Bisexual awakening,
roommates to lovers

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 41 000
words

It’s the prequel novella to my
Miami Piranhas series.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle
Unlimited

Universal Link |
Amazon US
| Amazon UK

Blurb

All Wade Lewis wants during rookie preseason camp is to
play great football and to make it to the final fifty-three man roster.


He absolutely does not want Tristan
Nicholson.

His complete and total opposite.

His teammate.

His competition.

And his roommate.

During the day, Tristan unexpectedly proves to be
helpful on
and off the field, but at night, when the lights go out, Tristan also becomes the
only man he can’t resist.

First, he’s a friend, then astonishingly, he becomes a
lover.


And then he becomes the last thing Wade ever
expected: everything.

This novella was previously published, and some light
editing has been done, but no new content has been added.

Excerpt

Tristan had nearly found Beau and asked if he could
switch rooms, but the problem with that was that he likedsharing a room with Wade.
He was a good roommate, conscientious and kind, and apart from this inconvenient
attraction stuff, he was becoming a good friend.

And he’d already been around the NFL long enough to
know that friends didn’t exactly grow on trees.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, then, that as
soon as the light went out, after this long-ass day, when both of them should have been
exhausted and immediately falling asleep, Tristan couldn’t help himself and instead of being
safe and smart and careful, like he had been all day, like he’d used all that safety up, he
asked the question himself.

“You ever kiss a guy before, Wade?”

Wade was quiet for such a long time that Tristan
wondered if maybe he had actually fallen asleep.

He found himself holding his breath, barely able to
breathe, his lungs clogging, as he waited for Wade to answer. Listening, way too intently, for
even the minutest change in Wade’s own breathing.

Why did he even need to know?

Why did it matter so much that the answer be
no?

Finally, Wade let out a deep exhale, like he’d been
holding his own breath too. Like he’d made a decision.

“No,” he said. “No, I haven’t.”

Tristan dug his fingertips into his bedding. It was no
less dangerous to kiss Wade in this dark, private room than to do it in the middle of the day,
in the middle of the Piranhas weight room, but it was easier to justify because if they did it
here and now, nobody would ever know.

But you’d know,
Tristan reminded himself. And Wade will know.

It was those two things that kept Tristan in his own
bed, instead of joining Wade in his—and showing him just how great kissing a guy could
be.

“Is . . . is that what that was earlier? You were . . .”
Wade hesitated for so long that Tristan, hanging on every single word, every single syllable
echoing through the darkness, nearly got up and went to his side and demanded to know
what it was he was supposedly doing. Finally, though, Wade finished his sentence. “Testing
me?”

It made no sense. Why would Tristan be testing him?
He already knew Wade was bisexual. Wade had told him himself. Tristan might have tested
Wade if he hadn’t been sure. If he hadn’t been entirely sure how his flirtation would be
received.

But he definitely hadn’t been testing Wade
earlier.

He’d been irresistibly drawn to the man.

It felt unfair to pay Wade’s honesty back with a lie, no
matter how dangerous the truth was.

So Tristan told him the truth.

“I wasn’t testing you. I was . . . if you have to know, I
was . . . I find you attractive, Wade, and I wanted to kiss you. As stupid as that was. I
shouldn’t have been thinking about it. You’re not out, and there were other guys around,
and on top of that . . . it’s a huge, massive distraction that could get us both released. You
know, teams don’t really like their players hooking up.”

Don’t really was
an understatement.

It was technically allowed because it couldn’t be
not allowed but it certainly wasn’t encouraged. All the Piranhas needed was a really
good reason to cut Tristan, and this would be it.

“You wanted to kiss me?” Wade’s voice was full of
wonder.

“I guess you missed the rest of that,” Tristan teased.
“You know, the part where it was—it is—a bad idea.”

“Sorry.” Wade actually sounded apologetic. “I got
stuck on that one bit. I just never thought . . . you and me. You’re so . . .”

It was playing with fire to ask.

Tristan knew it.

He asked anyway.

“I’m so what, Wade?”

“You’re so hot and confident and sure of yourself.
You’re a beacon of hope to so many closeted guys, guys who think that you can’t be gay and
play football. And then there’s me . . . not really ashamed but not open either, and not
experienced . . .”

“None of that matters,” Tristan interrupted him,
because he couldn’t listen to another moment of Wade putting himself down. “I can’t tell
you how much none of that matters.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Wade, you’re fucking gorgeous and you’re sweet,
and you’ve got this smile that lights up . . . well, it lights up everything around you. Including
me, okay?”

Wade was silent for a long time again, like he was
digesting what Tristan had just admitted to.

Like he was weighing the danger of it, the inherent
risk of it, with the reward.

But how could he, Tristan thought, dying over in his
own bed, when he didn’t know what he was really missing? He’d never kissed a guy before.
He didn’t know.

“Why,” Wade said, his voice rough, “are you still over
there, then?”

About the Author

A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with
her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just
as weird in Raleigh.

Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first
foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope
springs eternal. She’s published twenty-three novels and seven novellas.

Author Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Twitter |
BookBub

Instagram | Newsletter Sign-
up

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RELEASE BLITZ: “My Friend Tyler” by Shea Swain.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: My Friend
Tyler

Author: Shea
Swain

Publisher: SSW
Publications

Cover Artist: Shea
Swain

Release Date: January 4,
2023

Website page dedicated to book

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Forbidden love, friends to lovers

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 3 – 4
flames

Length: 71 487 words/ 133
pages

It is a standalone story and
d
oes not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal
Link
|
Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

Tyler Morales is a friend by association. So, when my
inebriated ass stumbles into his bedroom after a party and see him bare, face down, and
blindfolded in some sort of sensory play, I’m speechless. And when his partner removes the
earplug in his ear and asks him if I can join in, with a nod of Tyler’s head, my body moves
before my brain can catch up.

Initially, I want to forget that night. Tyler never saw me and
his partner doesn’t know me. But that proves difficult because I dropped something inside
Tyler’s room. He traces the item back to me but it doesn’t matter. I want him even though
I’ve never considered dating a guy. Problem is, Tyler hasn’t come out and it seems he comes
with his very own stalker. None of that shit matters. I want what I want. So, tell me, what’s a
guy to do?

Excerpt

Chapter One

When your life changes, it is always
unwelcomed…

Damian

Tyler Morales is a “friend” by association. When my friends
meet up, we end up hanging out. Aside from being acquainted with some of the same
people, we attend the same college and currently share a class. Like me, Tyler ranks at the
top of his class so if I need a partner in a class and he’s available, we link up.

He’s someone who’s easy to get along with. He’s modest
yet, he doesn’t fade into the background, which is what I try to do. Fading probably isn’t
possible for him. To be honest, he’s pretty as fuck, in a masculine way if that makes sense.

Let me explain…

He’s probably a couple of inches shorter than my six feet
four inches. Girls constantly orbit around him, gushing over him enough for me to know
details like how soft his curly brown hair is, how long and how dark his lashes are, or that his
hazel eyes have evergreen specks. Tyler is also pretty active on campus and I’m sure I’ve
seen him in a sports uniform before. Plus, he seems like good people and though I’m not a
social butterfly, it was nice of him to invite me to one of his rare get-togethers.

I push myself up off the floor. For several seconds, I comb
through my memory, trying to figure out how I ended up asleep in Tyler’s guest bathroom.
When I open the door, I see no one. I realize the small party/gathering is over. Half-awake
but groggy, I get the idea that I’ll just let Tyler know I’m leaving.

So, I stumble down the hall, realizing I’ve never been in his
place before now. It’s nice. When I trip over nothing and hit the wall, I know I’m not only
sleepy but a little lit so I’ll be sleeping in Tyler’s parking lot till morning. I wonder if he’ll let
me use his couch. That’s what I’m thinking when I stagger into the first door that’s ajar. If I
say I wasn’t ready for what I see, it’s an understatement.

I wasn’t fucking ready.

Tyler is on his knees, face down with his naked ass up and
blindfolded. His arms are stretched out with his wrists bound to the bed posts. At this angle,
I see some device in the ear. But what has me frozen and speechless is a guy I’ve never seen
before pounding into Tyler’s ass with abandon.

The sounds they are making…

The sounds Tyler’s making…

When I recover from my frozen shock and can bring myself
to move, I jump forward, grab the guy by the arm, and yank him away from Tyler. The guy
nearly crashes into an upholstered chair that’s in front of a window but somehow avoids it
and falls to the floor. I look back at Tyler who is breathing heavily and has fallen to his belly
as if exhausted.

I look back at the rapist, his eyes are wide and he’s righting
himself. I’m seeing red. The need to beat his ass bloody is becoming stronger with every beat
of my heart. But…I’m also finding it hard to breathe because my anger is mixing with
something I’m ashamed to admit. I am so fucking turned on that my dick is rock hard and
bucking against my jeans for release. This makes me even angrier.

“What the fuck!” the guy yells. “Look, man,” he says as he
stands and holds his hand up to stop me from advancing. “Tyler never said he had a
boyfriend.”

I pause, frowning.

Boyfriend?

“You should know we’ve been fucking for a couple of
months now. He asked me to tie him up and fuck him like this?”

The guy exhales as he rubs his hand over his hair.

“Gene? Gene, what’s wrong?” Tyler whispers.

I can hear apprehension reflected in Tyler’s tone. It’s not
what I expect. It dawns on me that his mouth isn’t stuffed with anything and if he needed to,
he’s capable of screaming for help. Help isn’t what I was hearing from him.

“He asked you to do this to him?” I ask. My voice cracks.

“He did. I’m sorry but how could I resist?”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Tyler isn’t gay, as far as I
know. I think we’ve even hooked up with a couple of the same girls.

I look at the guy. He’s ass naked too yet, I find nothing
appealing about him which is a relief. I sigh as I focus my gaze to his eyes and face.

About the Author

Shea is a woman who
believes that love is life’s greatest gift so it’s no wonder she writes Romance Novels. She lives
on the east coast of the United States with her family. A romantic to her core, Shea reads
and enjoys watching anything with a love story. She especially likes binging on Romance TV
around the holidays.

She enjoys spending time
with her family, meeting people, reading, chatting. Collecting Barbie dolls, toys, and Funko
Pops makes her happy. But she’s addicted to watching anime, k-dramas, movies, and playing
The Sims games. Shea also loves music and has mentioned that she writes better when she
has music playing as white noise in the background.

This exciting author writes
Adult Romance in the sub-genres of Contemporary, Young Adult, New Adult, Paranormal,
Sci-Fi, and Erotica.

Social Media Links

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|
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RELEASE BLITZ: “Deep Waters” by Thom Collins. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Deep
Waters

Author: Thom
Collins

Publisher: Pride
Publishing

Cover Artist: Kelly
Martin

Release Date: December 27,
2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance, thriller and suspense

Tropes: Murder mystery, small town, coastal romance

Themes: Secret lives, seeking justice, danger at sea

Heat Rating: 3 – 4
flames

Length: 61 740 words/ 262
pages

It is a standalone story. The
third book in a linked
Jagged Shores series
but can be read alone.

It does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle
Unlimited

Universal
link
|
Publisher |
First For Romance

In search of a story, he
found murder and romance.

 

Blurb

Author Christian Costner is researching material for one of
his dark thrillers and Nyemouth seems like the perfect setting for his next book. The small
seaside town has witnessed plenty of trouble over the years, and Christian thinks it will
provide him with the inspiration he needs.

He hires local tour guide and fisherman Harry Renner to
help him explore the coastline for a couple of days. Harry is knowledgeable and mature
beyond his twenty-eight years. Handsome too, though Christian thinks Harry is far too young
for him..

As the weather worsens, Harry cuts short their first sight-
seeing trip. Heading back to shore they spot a figure in distress in the water. A difficult
rescue is made far worse when they discover the casualty has a knife wound to his abdomen
and dies before they reach the safety of the harbour.

United by the trauma, Christian and Harry find comfort in
each other, but when another murder comes to light, they find themselves at the heart of a
dangerous mystery and the target of a killer more ruthless than they could ever
imagine.

 

Excerpt

Harry went to the bar. He didn’t know the bartender so
didn’t have to face another barrage of questions about Niko’s death. “Two of whatever these
were,” he said, holding up the empty tumblers. “Make them doubles.”

He glanced over his shoulder as he waited. Christian gazed
into the fire, looking lost in his thoughts. What was it about him? Just this morning Harry
had dismissed him as being far too old, but the more time he spent with him and talked to
him, Christian’s appeal grew stronger.
He can’t
be that old, anyway
, he reasoned. Ten, maybe
eleven years older than he was. It wasn’t like fancying someone his dad’s age.

Of course, Harry knew what really drove this new attraction
to Christian.

Death.

He’d learned from his time in the lifeboat how sex and
death went hand in hand. He had taken part in three failed rescues when he was a member
of the crew and afterwards he had always wanted sex. It wasn’t unusual. He’d even read an
article about it—how sex helped people to feel alive after a clash with mortality.

Is that what this is? Do I only fancy him because we
didn’t save Niko?

As he carried the drinks back to the fire, Harry realised just
how much he did want Christian. They had been through a gruelling experience. What better
comfort could there be than each other’s bodies? He didn’t want to go back to his flat on his
own and wondered whether Christian felt the same about his lonely hotel room.

Fuck it. One more drink and I’ll ask him. The worst he
can say is no.

Christian lifted his gaze from the flames when he returned.
Their eyes connected and, just for a second, a hint of a smile. “Thanks,” he said, accepting
the drink.

“Is this your favourite tipple? Whisky?” he asked, sitting
down.

“Sometimes. It depends on my mood. But at the end of the
night, when I want to unwind, it’s the best. I always bring a bottle with me when I’m working
away—for a nightcap.”

Their eyes locked again, and Harry wondered if there had
been a hint of an invitation in the last remark.
Or
is it just wishful thinking?

He had never been good at reading signals.

“What’s your hotel like?” he asked in a rush. “I’ve had a
drink at the bar in Quay House, but I’ve never been upstairs.”

Christian’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Oh shit. I’ve judged this all wrong.

Then he smiled. “It’s nice. I’ve got a good-sized room that
overlooks the harbour. Actually, it’s pretty great.” He sipped. “You’re welcome to come up, if
you’d like to look around. I could also give you that nightcap.”

Harry’s pulse quickened, and a stiffness developed in his
groin. “I’d love to.”

This morning he’d been so dismissive about Christian
because of his age, and now there was nothing he wanted more than to spend the night in
his protective embrace.

 

 

About the Author

 

Thom Collins is the author of
Closer by Morning, North
Point
and the Anthem Trilogy. His love of page
turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the latest Jackie
Collins book and confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy novels.

Thom has lived in the North
East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County
Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonk-
busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many
titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new
recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but in 2013 he
realized cruising is the best way to see the world.

Check out his website for news updates and a free ebook, The Night.

 

Other links

Twitter:
@thomwolf
|
Instagram: thomcollinsauthor | Newsletter Sign-up

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Star of the Game” by Amy Aislin.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Star of the
Game (Stick Side #6)

Author and Publisher: Amy
Aislin

Cover Artist: Natasha
Snow

Release Date: December 27,
2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M sports romance

Tropes: Best friends to lovers, roommates, hockey

Themes: using your voice/platform for good, mental health, friendship,
taking risks

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 94 000 words / 360
pages

It is book 6 in the Stick Side series, but can be read as a standalone. It’s not necessary to
have read the previous books in the series.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon |
Apple | B&N |
Kobo

 

The previous book in this series, Two-Man Team (Stick Side
5),

is on sale for $0.99 on all platforms from December 20-
January 3

Amazon |
Apple | B&N |
Kobo

 

 

Blurb

Felix only wants two things:
1. To make music.
2. His best friend, Emery.

But he’s not willing to risk two decades of
friendship for something more. Besides, a bout of writer’s block is preventing him from
creating new material, and he’s got deadlines to meet. He doesn’t need any
distractions—and Emery is the biggest distraction of all.


Emery only wants two things:
1. To play hockey.
2. His best friend, Felix.

He’s ready to risk it all for a shot at being together.
While he should be concentrating on playing his best hockey so his team will grant him a
contract extension, there’s no reason he can’t multitask.


With their careers at a crossroads, the timing for
romance couldn’t be worse—but when Felix is forced to move in with Emery, will Emery
finally convince him to take a chance at becoming the stars of their own game?

 

Excerpt

Music was his heart and soul. It would never not be a part
of his life. But he was ready for something different, whatever that “something” looked like.
It was a vague, nameless something that poked at the back of his brain like a child lazily
poking at a drum set.

He had tour dates and venues for this summer to firm up
with his tour manager, and although he loved performing, the thought of touring made him
slump back against the wall.

Twisting open the bottle cap, Felix chugged half his water,
mopping up a drop that spilled onto his chin with the back of his hand. Fuck, he couldn’t
wait to get home, even though Vancouver in January was as dreary as Henryk Gorecki’s
Symphony No. 3. He had a house in LA too, in Playa del Rey, but Vancouver was home. He
wanted to sleep in his own bed, visit with his parents and younger sister, help out at his
mentor’s after-school musical theater program, and spend time with Emery.

His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. Well,
speak of the devil.
Emery Stanton
read his caller ID next to a photo of his
childhood best friend’s face, and Felix’s heart skipped a beat, an automatic smile pulling his
lips upward despite his exhaustion. Felix remembered snapping that picture. “Smile,” he’d
said one day when they—along with their other best friend, Kris—had been strolling along
Vancouver’s Seawall a couple of summers ago, and instead Emery had made a kissy
face.

“I was going for pouty and sexy,” Emery had explained, but
the result was that he looked like he’d eaten a lemon.

Felix swiped to answer the video call. “Hey, Em.”

“Oh, hey.” Dark eyes flared in what Felix wanted to believe
was pleasure but was probably surprise. “I thought you were still doing the show. I was going
to leave you a message.”

See? Surprise.

“We just wrapped up,” Felix said. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Felix waited out a whole ten seconds of silence where they
did nothing but stare at each other. Emery scratched his bristly jaw. Felix sipped more water.
Amusement tickling the back of his throat, he finally said, “What was your message going to
be about, then?”

“Oh, nothing. I was going to ramble on about the latest
movie I saw with the guys just so you didn’t forget the sound of my voice.”

The guys
being his friends on his NHL team.

Felix rolled his eyes. “I haven’t been gone that long.”

“It’s been two weeks, Fe. You disappeared right after New
Year’s. I miss your face.”

Felix did not let that go to his head—or his heart.
This was just Emery being Emery. “You were in Winnipeg playing a New Year’s game, and
then in New York, then Colorado. If I’d have been home, we wouldn’t have seen each other
anyway.”

Emery scowled. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“The point is that it’s the middle of January and I haven’t
even said ‘Happy New Year’ to you in person yet.”

“Oh, the horror.”

“Sarcasm is unbecoming,” Emery quipped, quite
primly.

 

About the Author

Amy’s lived with her head in
the clouds since she first picked up a book as a child, and being fluent in two languages
means she’s read a lot of books! She first picked up a pen on a rainy day in fourth grade
when her class had to stay inside for recess. Tales of treasure hunts with her classmates
eventually morphed into love stories between men, and she’s been writing ever since. She
writes evenings and weekends—or whenever she isn’t at her full-time day job saving the
planet at Canada’s largest environmental non-profit.

An unapologetic introvert,
Amy reads too much and socializes too little, with no regrets. She loves connecting with
readers. Join her Facebook Group to stay up-to-date on upcoming releases and for access to
early teasers, find her on Instagram, or sign up for her infrequent newsletter.

 

Social Media Links

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Facebook | Instagram

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up
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RELEASE BLITZ: “Kaplan Chronicles” by H. M. Wolfe.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Kaplan Chronicles Volume 3 *Special Christmas Edition*

Author and Publisher: H.M. Wolfe

Cover Artist: A.M. Snead

Release Date: December 15, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance with a dash of PNR

Tropes: Forbidden love, second chance, found family, holiday spirit

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness, finding true love.

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 35 000 words

The book is the third of a series that has to be read in order. It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

 

Blurb

With Cameron out of their lives for good, the Kaplans are ready to celebrate Yule, a time of spiritual renewal and giving thanks to the gods of their ancestors for the benevolence showed to them. Eoghan’s and Gwylim’s miraculously coming back from the dead, Aidan putting his traumatic past behind, Bennett coming home—these are only some of the things the clan is grateful for.

Eoghan and Phelan, now an established couple, have the approval of both families…except Niall, who still hopes to break them up somehow. Phelan has plans of his own; his fiancé is in for the surprise of his life, and so is the former elder of the Kaplan clan.

Carradine and Thorne, on the other hand, still hesitate to voice what they feel for each other, and Fionnuala is tired of putting up with her cold, arrogant husband, so different from her one true love.

Enter Graham, a ghost boy from the Kaplan family, who met an untimely death almost three centuries earlier, who decides to help the true soulmates find the way to each other’s heart again and enrolls the help of Gareth, Thorne’s son, and Methuselah, the resident ball python with a larger-than-life personality.

 

Excerpt

Gareth woke up in the dead of the night, the mighty thirst which overtook him driving him to the kitchen to quench it. Methuselah-the-python uncurled from the foot of the bed and followed the teen, hissing worriedly. There was no one on the corridors or into the kitchen, but the teen felt a shifting into the air and a chill ran down his spine.

Gareth took a small bottle of water from the fridge, twisted its cap, and emptied the contents in almost one go. Letting out a small sigh of contentment, he put the bottle into the trash can, then turned around to walk to the exit but bumped into something on the way. The object was emanating the same kind of chill Gareth sensed on his way to the kitchen.

Definitely someone, not something, he thought. “It’s freezing outside. What in the name of the gods are you doing in the snow and cold at this hour? You should be in bed wrapped in blankets, sleeping.”

“No blankets would keep me warm.” The answer came in an overwhelmingly sad voice. “And I haven’t slept in ages; I forgot what it’s like, but I’d really like to…” The one who spoke, a boy about Gareth’s age, abruptly stopped, then continued in a voice tinged with disbelief. “Wait, can you see me?”

“Of course I can. Blond, curly hair, beautiful blue eyes like the clear summer’s sky, a little shorter than me and also a bit thinner, and…” It was Thorne’s son’s turn to stop talking and vehemently shake his head. “No. That’s impossible. No way.”

Methuselah let out a long hiss as though he were confirming Gareth’s words, much to the other boy’s amazement. “You’re right, it is odd because you offered a perfectly accurate description of me.” The blond boy frowned. “Is this an expression from your time? Perfectly accurate? I’m trying to adjust and, since you are the first one I talk to in…”

“My time?” Gareth’s eyes went wide as a thought crossed his mind, making his blood freeze. “What time do or did you live in? What country?”

“Last I remember, I was seventeen in my father’s house, the Akedene Manor in Scotland, just before the brave, mighty clans were defeated by the English dogs in the Battle of Culloden.” The other boy paused a bit. “I’m Graham, the fourth son of Barclay Kaplan, laird of Akedene, and his loyal wife Annabelle.”

“I’m Gareth, the only son of Thorne St. Ives, a retired spy of sorts.” The teenager stopped to choose the right words. “What my dad does…it’s pretty difficult to explain to someone who is not from this time, as you put it.” The teen took a sharp inhale. “And I’m blind most of the time. I mean, all the time, except for now when I only see you.”

Graham gave a small smile and bent down to pet Methuselah’s head, causing the snake to express his affection through a long, soft hiss. “Is the sacred creature yours? Can he see me, too, or just using his senses?” He looked into Gareth’s eyes. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know snakes have healing and magical powers. Also, they are very wise.”

“I don’t know about other snakes, but Methuselah has quite a personality and sometimes he acts like he knows things, so yeah, I think there’s a drop of magic in him.” Gareth swallowed hard. “Back to you now; so, from what I understood, you are a ghost, right?” When the other boy nodded, he continued. “How did you end up in this situation?”

 

About the Author

H.M. lives with the coolest Mom in the Universe and a fat, gay, submissive tomcat. She loves writing stories about boys and men who love, cherish, respect and protect other boys and men.

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: “A Silver Fox for Kinkmas” by Colette Davison. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: A Silver Fox
for Kinkmas (Naughty or Nice Season Three)

Author and Publisher: Colette
Davison

Cover Artist: Colette
Davison

Photographer: Marx
Chavez

Model: Rafa

Release Date: December 16,
2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Daddy kink, May to December, one-night-stand to
lovers

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 71 300
words

It is a standalone story, but
some of the characters appear in
Crazy Little
Thing Cold Love (Destination Daddies Season Two)
and His Boy to Cherish (Naughty or Nice
Season Two)
.

It does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle
Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US |
Amazon UK

Series link

I’m a commitment-phobe.
He’s a widower. Is the true gift of Christmas each other?

Blurb

All I want for Christmas is a sexy silver fox, and Cuffd
Kinkmas events are the perfect places to find temporary Daddies for steamy
hookups.

I don’t expect to get swept off my feet. I don’t expect to
want more of Magnus.

Even though I’m freaking out, I can’t deny that he ticks all
my boxes. He’s older, handsome, and firm enough to handle my brattiness. But when
Christmas ends, will I run for the hills or be brave enough to stay?

A Silver Fox for Kinkmas is a May to December steamy romance with spankings, orgasm denial, a cock
cage, and a talkative parrot. It’s part of the
Naughty or Nice Season Three multi-
author series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but there are so many Daddies and
boys finding their happily ever afters, why not grab them all?

Excerpt

I turned around and almost bashed into a slim guy with
strawberry blond hair and a chin cleft to die for.

“Well, hello, Santa.” He stared up at me with a bratty grin on
his face. “Aren’t you sexy?”

That was a better start. I let my stare travel over him while he
checked me out. He was wearing a hat and short-sleeved shirt made of green crushed
velvet. The shirt had a plummeting V-shaped neckline, which drew the eye down to his waist
and then a pair of green-and-red-striped shorts. They were tight. It was impossible not to
notice the bulge of his cock.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

“Yes.”

His grin widened. “Do you want to dance?”

“Why not.”

“I’m not a great dancer,” he admitted.

I laughed. “Nor am I.” Not at the kind of dancing that went on
in clubs anyway. I leant closer so I could whisper into his ear. “I don’t think many people here
are.”

“Probably not. Club-dancing is a bit like dad-dancing at a
wedding,” he decided. “A bit sad, but what does it matter if you’re having fun?”

“I like that analogy.”

“Are you here alone?”

“It is a singles night.”

He threw his head back and laughed. His laughter was like
sparkling Pims on a sunny day. “I know, but you might have brought a wingman with
you.”

“No. Have you?”

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “My usual wingman has got himself a
permanent Daddy.” He ran a hand through his floppy hair. “I’m here to have fun.”

“And pull?” I ventured.

“Yeah, that too.” He held his hand out. “I’m Barney. It’s nice to
meet you, Santa.”

I took his hand and shook it firmly.

“Nice grip.” His eyes sparkled.

“My name’s not really Santa.”

He stepped in close and put his finger over my lips. “I bet you
have a sexy name, but tonight, I’m going to call you Santa.”

“Does that mean I can call you a naughty elf?”

“You can call me whatever you want.”

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: “Desert Ice” by Rose Maefair.

RECENT RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Desert
Ice

Author: Rose
Maefair

Publisher: Self-Published –
listed as Motely Cat Publishing

Cover Artist:
MiblArt

Release Date: October 31,
2022 (First published January 30, 2017)

Genres: M/M Romance, Fantasy, Adventure

Tropes: Captive prince, enemies to lovers, misunderstanding

Themes: Forgiveness, Stranger in a Strange land

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 131 830 words/ 531
pages

It is intended to be the first in
a series. It is a revised version of the edition released in 2017.

It does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Lysander is a mage
more used to commanding earth, metal, and wood than people. How is he to be master of a
slave, and the slave’s desire, when Lysander hasn’t fully mastered his
own?

Blurb

Lysander is a gentle mage who wants a warrior slave to save
his family. Wyl is a betrayed prince who wants his freedom and what was taken from him.
Their hearts and desires collide amidst storm, steel, and magic in the desert. Lysander can
master the elements, but can he master his desire for Wyl? Can Wyl fight for, let alone love,
any man that dares to own him? (Revised Edtion)

Excerpt

Arms numb, Wyl sagged against his restraining
post.

His thick, dry tongue cracked his lips, searching to find a
hint of moisture hidden in any recess in his mouth. There was no relief to be found.

He leaned his head back, wincing as the coarse rope around
his neck chafed against his raw skin. He stared at the unfamiliar sky above. Home was cloudy
skies and cool, wet winds from the sea. This sky was clear blue with a relentless sun high
above. He let his head fall forward to his chest. This sky was as cruel and foreign to him as
this ancestorless city.

How long had it taken the slave ship to travel the southern
lands, let alone Tandir? What had made his father think slavery was more merciful than
death?

Why did I not foresee D’ara’s treachery? Takesh! If I had the
spit, I’d gladly waste it on the sands to dishonor the thought of her.

She had cost him everything: his freedom, his home, his
family, and even his connection to the ancestors. He would get it all back. He would not be
one of the forgotten!

About the Author

Rose lives in southern
Indiana. When she isn’t writing, she can be found gaming or out with friends. Nearby
conventions are also familiar haunts. She’s especially fond of coffee shops and cats.
However, no matter what she is up to, her muse diligently takes notes, seeks inspiration, and
weaves together plots and ideas.

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