RELEASE BLITZ: “Change of Plans” by Riley Long.

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Book Title: Change of Plans

Author: Riley Long

Publisher: Riley Long

Cover Artist: Marie Cole

Release Date: August 19, 2019

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: friends to lovers

Themes: forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 208 pages

It is a standalone story.

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Blurb

Even the best laid plans can go wrong…

Jared Costa is a touring backup dancer for one of pop music’s hottest up-and-comers. He’s also harboring a crush on his sexy-as-sin dance partner, Corey, who is tragically straight. Jared’s plan to make it through another month of the tour without acting on his desires should work, if he doesn’t let his hunger for Corey get the best of him. Once the tour is over, they will go their separate ways and Jared can put this foolish crush behind him for good.

Corey Miller put his same-sex attraction days behind him in college. Staying away from entanglements is the key to the big plans for his career and making a name for himself as a dancer. Or, that was the plan, until a game of beer pong ends in a kiss–with his luscious dance partner, Jared. Corey’s spun off center, unable to regain his balance. After their hot-as-hell kiss, he’s questioning if fame is all he wants, or if what he needs is something–or someone–else.

With both their plans crumbling, can they abandon those and devise a new plan? One that holds them together, instead of tearing them apart?

Excerpt

Jared paced backstage, only half-listening to the house music blaring overhead and the screaming of the impatient fans in the stands. Behind him, Ben and Zach from Addicted Fling were shit-talking one another. The guys who made up Addicted Fling were fine when they were offstage, but their pre-show bravado grated on Jared’s nerves. So did the band’s name, for that matter. It all seemed to scream “trying too hard,” but that was none of Jared’s business. At least the music wasn’t terrible. Jared spun to continue his pacing.

The stage manager was working his way towards Jared, Corey—the other backup dancer—close behind. Jared’s heart thudded. Corey was … well, he and Corey were friends—or at least, Corey would probably claim that—but if Jared had his way, they’d do so much more than dance. As a result of his unrequited crush on the straight guy, Jared tried to keep Corey at an arm’s length. It was hard—blond, muscular Corey was exactly Jared’s type, with deep-set green eyes and a face full of stubble. Jared wanted to be wrapped up in the man.

“Okay, Jay,” Neil began. “Tonight’s a big one.”

Jared stopped his pacing and nodded. “I know.”

Neil adjusted his headset and paused to listen carefully. “Three more songs and you’re up.”

Jared huffed out a little laugh. “Yeah, Neil, I know. We’ve been doing this for a month.”

“This one’s important, though,” Neil said, as if Jared needed a reminder. “There are a few recruiters watching tonight, so people are going to be paying attention. This could be the next step in your career.”

A lump formed in Jared’s throat. He didn’t know if dancing backup for various pop stars was what he wanted to do for the rest of his career. He really wanted to teach and choreograph. That didn’t mean he was going to screw up on purpose, but he certainly wasn’t trying to impress recruiters. He nodded. “Gotcha.”

“I’m serious, Jared. Dance like Gaga is watching.”

Corey barked a laugh and clapped a hand on Jared’s shoulder. “Or like her lead dancer is checking out your ass.”

Jared’s face flooded with heat. He never knew how to respond when Corey made an offhanded remark about sexuality—either of theirs. Jared fidgeted, working his hands into fists at his sides, and looked at his shoes, forcing a laugh.

A few minutes passed while Corey and Jared helped each other stretch before it was their turn to go on stage. When Neil gave the cue, they hurried to their mark on either side of the stage. Jared couldn’t tear his eyes away from Corey. He imagined Corey coming closer, pulling Jared into a kiss, and then he heard the music start up, forcing the stage back into focus.

Jared waited for his cue before rushing onstage, but he couldn’t stop watching Corey, and he stumbled a little, his heart pounding. He was acutely aware of the crowd. This was a sold-out show, one of the biggest he’d ever performed. Morgan, the pop singer he danced backup for, had gotten lucky with this tour, landing an opening gig for one of the biggest rock bands in the country, and—

“Cincy, how you doin’ tonight? My name is Morgan Palmer, and I am so excited to be here with you! Welcome to the Crushing Tour!” Morgan screamed into her mic as the song ended, cutting through Jared’s thoughts. The crowd went nuts, screaming back at her. She had won the hearts of hundreds of thousands of people on this tour, and every night her songs worked their magic on a fresh batch of new potential fans. “Give it up for these beautiful boys, my dancers, Jared and Corey.” Once again, the crowd cheered. Jared sneaked a glance at Corey, his light skin shining with sweat under the hot lights already.

About the Author

Riley Long is a wife and mother living a quiet life in Virginia, with her husband, son, and two energetic pit bulls. She passes her evenings writing, reading, and watching bad television (or not so bad television). For fun, Riley participates in NaNoWriMo, GISH, and reads with her book club, the BAMFs. She likes things with silly acronyms. The craziest thing Riley has ever done involves whipped cream and hugs.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Repeat Offense” by Jackie Keswick. Rafflecopter giveaway included! See link below for details:

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Book Title: Repeat Offence

Author: Jackie Keswick

Publisher: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Pavelle Art

Release Date: August 14, 2019

Genre/s: Fantasy/metaphysical, fantasy/paranormal

Trope/s: abiding love, defeating death,

Themes: actions have consequences, paying the price for compassion, perseverance, triumph over adversity

Heat Rating: 0 flames. No sexual content. (It’s a love story, but not a romance)

Repeat Offence is a fantasy story, told in first person POV. It’s NOT a romance, and there’s no sex, but I consider it a love story. Apart from the first and last scene, the two MCs are apart. Readers can infer that it’s m/m, but Taz’s (the narrator’s) gender is never mentioned in any way. It fits into general fantasy as much as into LGBT+.

Length: 20 000 words/66 pages

It is a standalone story.

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Blurb

It should have ended with their deaths.

But dying in a wash of blood was just the beginning.

Sentenced to eternal life for sacrificing themselves in battle, warriors Taz and Hiro must take turns living as human and Guardian on opposing sides of the veil with only a chance to catch a glance of each other in the moment of death.

Until an attack forces Taz and Hiro to make a choice. Should they cling to what little solace they’ve carved out for themselves? Or should they sacrifice their lives to save countless others and risk the wrath of the Judges for a second time?

Excerpt – Judged

It should have ended with our deaths.

It didn’t.

Dying in a wash of blood was just the beginning.

I’d closed my eyes to firelight and pale grey mud, trampled and stained crimson, grateful when death took me swiftly, only to wake to light harsher than the noonday sun at midsummer.

The stone beneath my back leeched the heat from my body and the brightness around me held so little warmth that my breath rose in puffs of vapour. I felt no pain, and my arms bent when I willed them to. I raised my hands to my neck where the smooth skin under my fingertips mocked my memories.

By the time we’d fought our way out of the Sakkadian king’s tent, I’d been bleeding from a raft of shallow wounds. And when the king’s guards had overwhelmed us, a savage cut to my neck had ended my life.

There was no sign now of the slash that had almost severed my head. The fatal wound had vanished, along with the mud, the firelight, and the sounds of battle.

A rasping cough made me turn my head. Hiro lay beside me on the cold stone, skin smooth and eyes wide. “Taz?”

“Yes.” My voice grated, as if I’d not used it in years. I cleared my throat and tried again. “It’s me.” I sat up to better watch him—alive, serene, with his blue eyes glowing like the finest gemstones. “Do you think—? Is this the afterlife?”

He scratched his head, his fingers catching at the curls in his pale hair.

It hadn’t been that long when I’d seen it last. Running through the ward fires had singed the ends to ragged shreds. They framed his face in messy tangles, dark with sweat and spattered with blood. Holding a sword in one hand and a long dagger in the other, he’d appeared like a savage in the final moments of our lives. Glorious, undefeated, victorious. Dying shouldn’t have felt so right, but with Hiro beside me, elation had left no room for fear. Even the pain of my wounds had shrunk to a minor annoyance.

I’d gone to my death with a broad grin on my face.

Only to wake here… wherever that was.

I fingered the loose trousers and deep blue tunic that covered me from neck to ankle. Slippery, and with a soft sheen, the material was as unfamiliar to me as the cut of my outfit. As strange as waking from death, my wounds gone and even Hiro’s long hair restored.

When Hiro rose, I rolled to my feet and stood beside him, surveying the place where we’d woken. A huge, empty hall stared back at us, perfectly proportioned and large enough for a company of men. A mosaic of pale-yellow stone formed the floor. Whitewashed plaster covered the walls. Dark beams leaned towards each other high above our heads, twining in an intricate pattern to create a roof.

Neither cressets nor sconces marred the smooth expanse of stone and plaster, and no hearth or fire pit interrupted the slabs covering the floor. Since the room lacked doors and windows, it should have been pitch dark. Instead, we stood in frigid brightness.

I took a step towards the nearest wall, intent on solving this riddle, when Hiro’s grip on my wrist held me back.

“I’ve never believed in tales of an afterlife,” he answered the question I’d asked earlier.

“Wise of you,” came a voice from behind us. “Because what might pass for an afterlife in your world will be your penance in ours.”

We turned as one and the sight sent my heart racing.

“I am your Judge,” he rumbled.

The Judge towered over us, his height that of two ordinary men, with breadth to match. Swirls of shadow and light swathed his form and hid his face, and his regard touched me like an icy breath, colder even than the chill air in the hall. I itched to wrap my arms around myself to ward off the shivers, but I didn’t want to show weakness. His words hinted at worse to come, and whatever he chose to throw at us, he wouldn’t find me any less steadfast than Hiro.

I had no idea who or what he was, whether god or demon. Every kingdom on the continent had its own gods, temples, and rituals and I’d never been one for much worship. I’d made offerings to Balar, the god of storms, and Veenis, the hearth goddess, at times, but those had been little more than token gestures. I swore by the gods, of course, or at them, though I wasn’t insane enough to mention that. The entity facing us looked forbidding enough to be Balar, but the storm god was never judgemental. He smote sinners and believers alike.

“I am not a god,” he said as if my mind was an open book to him. “Neither am I a demon. The Judges guard the balance of these worlds.”

Worlds. As if there was more than one.

I pushed the thought aside and focussed instead on Hiro and the Judge who watched each other like rival cats.

“Why do you require our penance?” Hiro dared to ask when too much time had passed in silence.

“You were given a gift, and you chose to squander it,” the Judge unbent enough to enlighten us. “You didn’t wait for death to come for you at the appointed time. You went out of your way to seek it. You both lie dead long before that destiny was meant to be yours. And for what?”

His voice rolled through the empty hall and teased echoes from each corner. The anger and disdain in his glare heated my blood until I no longer felt the cold. I was about to tell him not to sit in judgement over what he would never understand when Hiro’s grip tightened on my wrist and stopped me.

“We didn’t squander our lives,” he told the Judge, much calmer than I would have done. “We didn’t raid the Sakkadian camp on a whim. We’d long waited for such an opportunity and we took it when it arrived. We fell to Sakkadian swords, but not until we’d achieved our goal. Ten years of warfare are done with. Over.”

“That is irrelevant.” The Judge’s anger crackled in the air like static before a thunderstorm. “I hold that you threw away your lives, because you knew that your mission was suicide.”

Hiro let go of my wrist and turned his head until our gazes met. I couldn’t tell whether he was trying to reassure me or keep me quiet. I wanted to argue—desperately so—but what could I say that would be acceptable to the Judge?

We hadn’t known. Not in the way he implied. I’d never once gone into battle believing I’d not make it through. And I’d swear any oath that Hiro hadn’t either.

“We didn’t—”

“It is irrelevant.” The Judge didn’t let Hiro plead our case. “We have judged you by your actions. You wasted the life gifted to you and you will do penance for your transgression.”

With each word, the Judge seemed to grow taller and wider. His voice filled the hall until even the harsh, bright light gave way before his wrath. “You are sentenced to eternal life. You will spend your lives on opposite sides of the veil, taking turns living and watching. You will switch places at death. We will consider your penance complete if you manage to meet in the exact moment the human in your pairing dies.”

His pronouncement ended with a snap. The air grew icy and thick. And before I could exchange more than a single glance with Hiro, darkness wrapped me up and my sense of self disappeared with the light.

About the Author

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops.

For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in all the usual places:

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Wanderlust” by Quin Perin. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway included! See link below for entry:

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Wanderlust: Bundle

Author: Quin Perin

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Quin Perin

Release Date: August 13, 2019

Genre/s: M/M Romance

Trope/s: Hurt/Comfort, Out for You, Friends to Lovers

Length: 55 000 words/190 pages

Heat Rating: 3 flames

It is a standalone story with a HEA

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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

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Blurb

Please check the warning section inside the book.

I knew all the regulars. I knew their drinks. Their complaints. I knew everything that went on in this little town. But they didn’t know me.

And I didn’t know him.

Momma always told me to be kind to others, so I didn’t even think twice when I invited him into my house, into my life, my heart.

I was happy being alone, until I wasn’t.

Little did I know that once you get a taste of happiness, nothing will ever taste the same. Especially when it is taken away.

***WANDERLUST is a slow burn romance, featuring hurt/comfort and friends-to-lovers elements as well as detailed adult m/m content

Excerpt

Juste

Every day here was the same. Al came to the bar at the same time, the same exhaustion clinging to his body. He sat on the same seat. Drank a shot and two beers. He asked how I was doing, not expecting a real answer, and then I asked how his family was, not expecting a real answer. He didn’t tell me that his daughter was struggling out in the city. Wouldn’t mention the rumors of her doing less than savory things for cash. He wouldn’t mention that boy of his, the trouble he’d gotten into. And he wouldn’t mention how Sally was really doing. Pale and weak. Growing frailer by the day.

Just like Sally wouldn’t say anything when she stopped by. She’d wear one of her good floral print dresses and a sun hat. Her blond, thinning hair tucked back in a low bun, and she’d have a basket slung over her arm. She’d smile at the men in the bar, her blue eyes bright despite the dark circles under them. Talk to her husband’s friends, sweet as pie and light as cotton. Then she’d come up to the bar and ask for a glass of water before promptly presenting me with several jars of jam.

Sometimes it felt like I was living in a TV show on repeat, the tape getting more and more worn out as it played over and over again. It had been like this ever since I came back to town fourteen years ago when my father got sick. No one had changed. Nothing had changed. Same songs on the jukebox. Same people wandering through life. Rare excitement. It was peaceful, and it was mind-numbingly dull at the same time.

Al finished his first beer, and I grabbed the bottle, tossing it in the trash before grabbing him another. My bottle opener came out of my pocket, and I slid it across to him. “I think I’m fixin’ to head up into town this next weekend,” I told him casually. My one escape was driving nearly two hours to the nearest big city every two or three months. Usually, I’d try to be helpful when I could. Pick up things that people needed and promised to pay me back for. They often didn’t, and I never brought it up.

With a nod, he leaned back on his stool and groaned. “I think we’re good on everythin’ right now, but I’ll ask the missus when I get home.”

I flashed him a smile before turning away to give him his peace. There wasn’t much to do in the bar. Al was my only customer at the moment, and it wasn’t likely to get much busier. On the weekends it was more lively. I’d play music, and some people would get drunk enough to dance. For now, though, it was the two of us.

I was kneeling below the bar when I heard the door open again, and I popped up, expecting a familiar face. It was not. The man who walked in the door was…a stranger. In the best possible way. Not like anyone I’d ever seen in a small town. Damn near took my breath away.

Light eyes, so light that it was hard to tell their color in the dimly lit room, glanced around with ease. One hand was hooked in the back pocket of a pair of faded jeans, the other holding onto the strap of a backpack that looked ready to burst. My stranger was tall. Bout as tall as me. Body sturdy. Shoulders wide. His complexion was darker than mine, darker than anyone else in the town. Not entirely black but more than tan. Soft and smooth with an almost golden glow. Black hair was curly, and there was several days growth of beard across a sharp jaw, but it did nothing to hide his full lips. If he’d been a bit cleaner, he would have looked like someone from the movies. As it was there was a couple days worth of dust on his clothes to match the beard. And his eyes drooped faintly. Like he’d been traveling a long time. Despite the way he looked, I recognized him. Recognized his skin. A hitchhiker. Going to somewhere or away from something.

Long limbs loose, like he had no cares in the world, he headed toward the bar, mine and Al’s eyes fixed on him as he lowered himself onto a stool a couple spaces over. His bag was set on the floor by his feet.

Those lips twitched into a crooked half-grin. “Howdy,” he said. His voice seemed to shake the room. Deep as thunder yet smooth as cream. It made the skin prickle on the back of my neck, warmth flushing through me.

“Well, hey there, stranger.” I didn’t know how I managed to find my voice, but I did, heading over to him and placing my hands on the counter in front of him. “What can I get ya?”

His tongue ran over his lips, and he looked around, at the small display of bottles behind me. “You don’t happen to have any food here, would ya?” he asked. “Didn’t see anywhere else open on my way through town.”

“Nah. No food here,” I admitted. “Just lots of drinks for whatever ails ya.”

A low chuckle and he shrugged his shoulders. “My empty stomach is ailin’ me right now. More than my thirst. You wouldn’t happen to know any place ‘round here that would be open?”

Shaking my head, I put on an apologetic smile. “Fraid not, everywhere closed up early,” I informed him. “Heck, it’s bout near my closing time too.” I usually shut everything up once Al was gone.

“Ah, all right.” His shoulders slumped faintly, but that easy smile didn’t fade from his lips. Poor fella was trying to be positive, but it couldn’t have been easy with an empty belly.

One thing that I had learned from my daddy that I took to heart was the need to help your fellow man. My daddy was a mean drunk, but he never hesitated to help someone who needed it. When he was sober, he could have given Jesus a run for his money. God rest his soul. People ‘round town liked to joke that I was like him because of that, which was fine by me. I wasn’t much likely to turn someone away if they needed a hot meal.

I tapped my fingers against the bar and shrugged my shoulders. “If you ain’t got nowhere to be, I’ll be closing in ‘bout thirty or so, and I’ve got a stew simmering at home,” I said. “If ya want.”

About the Authors

As a pair of genre rebels, Quin and Perin—from the US and Germany—are constantly maneuvering time zones and plot bunnies to whip up Gay Novels. Expect plenty of heat and elevated smut. With a dash of drama, a pinch of sweet, and a hefty amount of kink on the side, they serve up stories that will leave you full and satisfied.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Release (Rent Boys 1)” by A. E. Ryecart. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included! See below link for entry. . .

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Release (Rent Boys #1)

Author: A E Ryecart

Publisher: Indie published

Cover Artist: Tammy Clarke

Release Date: August 9, 2019

Genre/s: contemporary MM romance

Trope/s: opposites attract, sex worker hero, class difference, found family, slow burn

Themes: salvation, redemption, attainment of a better/different/more fulfilled life

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 70 000 approx. words

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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

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When life holds them captive, can love be their release?

Blurb

Selling his body since he was a fifteen-year-old runaway, rent boy Sean Farrell has learned the hard lesson that the only way to survive the streets is to act tough and cocky. But an act is all it is, as underneath he’s never felt more adrift as he struggles with crippling self-doubt. Sean’s distilled life into three simple rules: earn enough cash to get by, stick close to the friends who have become his family — and don’t let anyone steal his heart.

Art is Laurie Cassell’s profession and passion. His calm and ordered life is just how he thinks he wants it, but it’s becoming harder to ignore the creeping feeling that calm and ordered has become dull and predictable. Laurie craves more but doesn’t know what, or not until a man with dark hazel eyes and a bad attitude swaggers into his life — and leaves with his heart.

Two men who should never have met, let alone fallen in love. Can Sean and Laurie release the other from lives that are holding them captive?

*** Release is a slow burn, opposites attract MM romance. Found family, good friends who give advice our men don’t want to hear, and the redemptive power of love can all be found between the pages. No cliffhanger, and a guaranteed HEA. ***

Excerpt

“Didn’t you hear what he said? He doesn’t want a drink. Are you fucking deaf as well as stupid?”

The words were out of Sean’s mouth before he could think. This wasn’t his fight, this wasn’t his problem. What am I getting myself into? But Sean knew why he hadn’t walked away. The drunk was a bully, and his hectoring voice had scratched down Sean’s spine like nails over a chalkboard. Sean moved in closer, narrowing the space between him and the drunk to no more than a hand’s width.

“Piss off. This hasn’t got anything to do with you.” The drunk made a good effort at standing his ground, but his voice had lost its edge. He was no longer so sure of himself, the ground beneath his feet no longer so stable.

Sean said nothing, offering only a grim smile. He knew what the drunk was seeing.

Tall and well built, and with his hair cut short and severe, Sean looked like a squaddie, a soldier off-duty for the night. Have you got the uniform? Have you got the fatigues? Words, and others like them, he’d had panted into his ear more than once. Sean watched as the drunk hesitated. Unexpectedly challenged, he deflated like a balloon stabbed with a pin.

The guy shrugged and walked off, banging his shoulder into Sean in a final show of defiance. Sean let him have his second or two of triumph; he was gone, and that was all that mattered.

A soft and cultured voice drifted out of the shadow.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to, but, thanks. I appreciate it. He didn’t seem to want to listen to me.” The added words were accompanied by a nervous, hesitant laugh.

Now that the drunk had gone, Sean focused his full attention on the guy.

Dark, heavy hair fell in a floppy fringe across his brow. Pushing it aside, the guy looked up.

Under the bar’s muted lights, Sean couldn’t determine the colour of his eyes, other than they were large, dark, and full of gratitude. There was a fine-boned delicacy about his clean-shaven face — no hint of designer stubble — and he was well, if conservatively, dressed. Late twenties, thirty at a push, Sean guessed, just a few years more than his own twenty-four.

“Are you waiting for friends or was that just a way of telling him,” Sean said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder, “to take a hike?” He stared down at the guy, who looked as awkward and out of place in the overpriced, pretentious bar as he did.

The guy nodded, fiddling with the mixer stick in his glass, stirring the ice, and pushing down on what looked like a whole load of salad leaves.

“I am. This wasn’t my choice, but, well…” He screwed up his nose as he looked beyond Sean and into the bar.

Sean glanced behind him, surprised to see how in just a few minutes the crowd had swollen. He turned back to the guy and met his wry smile with one of his own.

“Yeah, well, this place was my choice, but I’ve gotta ask myself why.”

The guy laughed. “Everybody’s allowed one erroneous choice. It’s a friend’s birthday, and he wanted to come here, so I didn’t get a lot of say.”

“So where is he, then?”

“Late, as always, but I’m early. As always.”

About the Author

I love all kinds of MM romance and gay fiction, but I especially like contemporary stories. Born and raised in London, the city is part of my DNA so I like to set many of my stories in and around present-day London, providing the perfect metropolitan backdrop to all the main action. When I’m not writing at home, in the gym, in cafés – in fact any place I can find a good coffee – I can be found with my feet up thinking of more ways to put my men through the emotional wringer!

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Talking RoMMance… with a British accent

(This a shared group. The other UK authors are Jack L Pyke, Louise Mae, and Susan Mac Nicol)

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Eminently Elf” by Jessamyn Kingley

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Eminently Elf (D’Vaire, Book 13)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: July 25, 2019

Genre/s: M/M Urban Fantasy Romance

Trope/s: Fated Mates

Themes: Love, Courage

Heat Rating: 3 flames

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Even for a legend, victory has a price.

Blurb

Emperors Chrysander and Ellery Draconis are in love and looking toward the future. Ellery is the first hybrid to survive a dragon shift, becoming a legend. Chrysander couldn’t be happier with his elf dragon, and for the first time he is truly savoring life. Despite the demands of their schedules as the leaders of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters, the pair have also managed to find balance. But not everyone is happy to see the leader of the dragons with a half-elven mate.

As the two go about their daily business, those sworn to protect them work tirelessly each day to ensure the safety of their emperors. They lived through the horror of the previous rulers being murdered and are all too aware of the dangers that lie in wait. Nothing is left to chance, but regardless of their dedication, not even they can prevent evil from rising from the mists.

On a seemingly ordinary day, an unexpected attack shocks everyone. A matebond is taken to the brink and the limits of magic are tested as the strongest forces unite to try to repair the damage. It will take time, patience, and perseverance for good to prevail. Chrysander and Ellery will once again overcome the odds and emerge victorious, but in the end, nothing will ever be the same.

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US Author Page

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Excerpt

Ellery tugged the linen top of his pajamas over his head and crawled into bed. There was noise from the sitting room that told him Chrysander wasn’t ready to join him yet. With a shrug, Ellery picked up the tablet on the nightstand and went through the notes Zane sent him regarding the next vote in the Main Assembly Hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chrysander stalk into the room and keep going until he’d shut himself into the bathroom.

When he emerged several minutes later, he still had a loose pair of black pants on that he’d donned when they got upstairs.

“Are you all packed?” Chrysander asked as he climbed up onto the mattress and crawled over Ellery.

Setting his tablet aside, Ellery smiled at the handsome dragon as he got closer to him. “Yes, I think so. It is so strange to think of moving into a hotel tomorrow.”

Chrysander kissed him and settled his weight comfortably over Ellery. “Damian’s probably going to stay up all night memorizing the floor plans. He’s not going to be happy until we get back here and the condo is finished.”

“He has been very pleased that he and your brothers are in charge of the security features in this place.”

“And that we gave them carte blanche. It kind of scares me how much technology Damian is going to put in this place. I don’t want to have to do a retinal scan to use the bathroom.”

Ellery slid his hands into Chrysander’s thick hair. “That would be inconvenient.”

“We’re going to have to wrestle more control from Wesley. He can’t skip informing our security about things like having a giant-ass buffet at the back of an enormous throne room, blocking the main doors.”

Ellery didn’t want to talk about Wesley. The truth was, he could hardly stand the office assistant, and he would bet all Tiri’s swear word money that the feeling was mutual. “He has been too comfortable in his role, perhaps.”

“He does a good job. He just needs to be reminded of the rules. I was so damn busy before that I truly had no choice but to pass a lot of things off to him. Our schedule’s lighter now, and the royal family should be making these decisions.”

“Other than the food fiasco, I thought the ceremony went well.”

“Poor Tiri looked terrified.”

“He gets nervous that he will disrespect Zane in some way.”

Chrysander lifted an incredulous brow. “How could he ever do that?”

“I have no clue. He is amazing, and he loves Zane very much.”

“I should tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

“I love someone very much as well.”

Ellery eagerly accepted Chrysander’s kiss. “That is interesting. Is it anyone I know?”

“You might’ve heard of him.”

Lifting his chin so Chrysander could better nibble Ellery’s neck, he tried to keep the thread of their conversation going while his body hummed with the desire that always rested just below his skin for his other half. “Can you be more specific?”

After leaving a trail of soft kisses over his jaw, Chrysander tongued the two earrings Fate left in Ellery’s ear after they were mated, which always drove him wild inside. “He’s an elf.”

Ellery wasn’t sure why everyone insisted on focusing on that part of him first, but his dick was hard, and he wasn’t going to get into a disagreement with Chrysander over it. “Just an elf?”

Pushing his hands under Ellery’s tunic, Chrysander slid his palm over the muscles of his belly. “No, he’s a hybrid.”

“That is certainly interesting,” Ellery managed as Chrysander toyed with one nipple.

“They say dragon mixes die at their first shift, but not my mate.”

Ellery spread his legs and bent his knees, cradling Chrysander’s hips between them. The thick length of Chrysander’s cock bumped into his and caused him to let out a moan. “I may have heard of him.”

“He’s the most beautiful dragon in the world.”

Clutching Chrysander’s short locks tighter, the dragon brought his lips close enough to taste. Ellery dipped his tongue in, and their mouths were way too busy for words as he undulated against Chrysander, suddenly desperate for any kind of friction.

 

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.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Open Water” by Sophia Soames.

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Book Title: Open Water (Scandinavian Comfort, Book 2)

Author: Sophia Soames

Publisher: Self published

Cover Artist: Miriam Latu

Release Date: July 20, 2019

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: Enemies to lovers, Second Chance, Older couple and Younger couple

Themes: Late Coming out, Growing up, Mental health, Parenting

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 99 031 words

This is a standalone story and the second book in the “Scandinavian Comfort” series. These books celebrate love, family and realistic messy lives, threaded with the Scandinavian concept of ‘’Hygge”. This Danish concept cannot be translated to one single word but encompasses a feeling of cozy contentment and well-being through enjoying the simple things in life.

Previous book Little Harbour (Scandinavian Comfort, Book 1) is available on Amazon, KU and in Paperback.

Reader Beware

This story is set in Sweden, where the age of consent is 16. The laws are there to protect children from abuse or exploitation, rather than to prosecute under-16s who participate in mutually consenting sexual activity. There are a multitude of cultural differences described in this story that readers from other parts of the world might find strange or downright amusing, also family practices that not every Scandinavian family would necessarily agree with.

Trigger Warnings: anxiety, panic attacks and brief non-graphic flashbacks to traumatic events and bullying.

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Blurb

Meet Lukas Myrtengren, Mentor Teacher in Biology and Maths at Östra Real Senior School in Stockholm. He makes sure his students pass his classes. He is hopeless when it comes to men, but is trying to sort his life out. Honestly. He can’t keep living like this.

Meet Tom Andersson. Emergency room doctor and single dad. He has no idea how he has managed to mess up parenthood this bad. He hasn’t meant to, he just hasn’t got a clue how to deal with the son he loves to the point of insanity. He knows that he is drifting out to sea without a paddle, he just doesn’t know how to stop it.

Meet me, Max Andersson. Seventeen. Gay AF. An emotional wreck with no future, no skills and no clue. All I know is that I am in love. Helplessly. Desperately. And unrequited, of course. What else can I expect? It’s not like my life is going to get any better.

Welcome to Open Water.

Excerpt

I actually manage to read two of the links before the sound of Dad’s homecoming echoes through the house. Big loud footfalls in the hallway. The swish of his coat being thrown over the banister. Huffing and puffing when he realises that we have no food in the fridge. Zero. We did have a banana, but I ate it. Serves him right for not coming home first.

He comes around the corner with a glass of water in his hand, still weirded out, like he doesn’t know where to look. What to say. Whether he should even step over the threshold.

“Did you eat?” he asks. Taking a gulp of water.

“Banana. We have no food,” I huff back, pretending to tap on the keyboard.

“I can go down to ICA. Get some supplies. What do you want?” He looks really confused. Fiddling with some chipped paint on the doorframe to my room.

“Dad, why did you do whatever you did to Lukas? What did he do?” I slam my laptop shut. I’m curious. Also, whatever he did will give me lots of ammo to use if I need it. Put some pressure on Lukas. Get back at my Dad when I need it. Secrets are good. I’m good at keeping them. I’m also good at using them.

“You will just hate me if I tell you. Some secrets are better kept inside,” he says, looking so fucking sad it almost breaks my heart.

“You never told me much about when you went to Östra Real. Did you do the whole graduation thing?”

“Yeah. I did everything. Student Committee, Student Council. Parties. Hazing. Rode all around town on a tractor trailer whilst drunk and disorderly. All that shit.”

“Cool.”

It is actually. Like my Dad was on the Student Council. And was in the Hazing group. I kind of nod appreciatively. Not that I approve of it, but the kids who run in those groups are like the cool kids. The A-team. People who matter.

“I hated it. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.” He is still looking sad.

“Are there photos? Did you keep any footage? I mean it must have been twenty years ago, but surely you had cameras?”

“I got rid of them all. I wanted to just kill off who I was. I wasn’t a nice person, Max. I hurt people and I was a fucking idiot.”

“Is that the reason you got rid of the Björklund name, Dad? Because that was what they called you? I heard Simon call you that. Weird.”

“Yeah, partly. I was so scared your Mum would change her mind about giving you up, so I got it removed when you were born, thinking that it would be harder to find us with a more common name. I used to have nightmares of her turning up and snatching you away from me.”

“She gave up her parental rights. Why would she come for me?” I don’t get it. Well, I do. I am the master of overthinking shit and making up drama in my head. Then panicking and freaking out over it.

“She could have changed her mind. Regretted giving you up. I don’t know.” Dad is messing around with his hair again, picking at that chipped paint. Tapping his toes against the carpet.

“So why Lukas?” I need to know why. I mean. It’s intriguing. It’s the kind of story that would make a good script for Drama. I could probably score extra points with Simon just writing all this shit down on paper.

“He was this really cool guy. I mean, he came out during our second year. Just like that, everyone knew and he fucking owned it. This handsome cool dude, who was just who he was. No drama about it. He was a cocky little shit and the girls adored him. There was always this cluster of girls hanging around him and he had these really solid mates who defended him and loved him to bits. I mean, it was almost sickening. He had it all. People thought he was the fucking business. And hell, Max, he was so fucking cute.”

Dad stops himself and looks almost panic-stricken. Like he has said something totally wrong. Which it takes me a minute or two to compute.

“Cute?” I say. Fucking hell, Dad.

“Forget it. I am going to ICA. I’ll get meatballs. Or pizza. Or whatever.”

Yeah and a shit-ton of alcohol. Because Dad is freaking out and I almost crash my laptop onto the floor getting my feet tangled in the charging lead, following him out into the hallway.

“Dad. You were in love with him, weren’t you? That’s why you did it. You loved him. Fucking hell, Dad. After all this and you freaking loved him.”

About the Author

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over tv-shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.

Her long suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever and she hopes it may long continue.

Miriam Latu is a Norway based artist, specializing in hand drawn pencil portraits. She works with old-school pen and paper, and more of her work can be found on Instagram @om_hundre_ar_er_allting.

Social Media Links

Facebook | Twitter: @sophiasoames | Instagram: @sophiasoames

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My previous book, 717 miles, a NA story set in London, will be FREE for 5 days from July 24.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Espejos” by Michael War. $10 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway!

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Book Title: Espejos (South Texas Lore 1)

Author: Michael War

Publisher: Less Than Three Press

Cover Artist: Jennifer Gavins

Release Date: July 3, 2019

Genre/s: Paranormal/Urban Fantasy M/M Romance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 41 000 words

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Buy Links

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Blurb

After his mom passes away from a terrible accident, Carlos heads home to Tres Reynas for the funeral—and to reunite with his brother. Given he left after his parents abandoned him for coming out, it’s not a homecoming he’s looking forward to.

Once home, he learns a neighbor wants to steal his family’s ranch, and his brother is considering selling it. Determined not to let the ranch be lost, Carlos works to save it—with unexpected help fom the handsome, rugged Eugenio.

But Carlos can’t seem to focus, especially with his mother’s image seeming to haunt the ranch mirrors, like she’s trying to tell him something—or maybe like he’s just losing his mind.

 

Excerpt

Domingo Menchaca. Just hearing name brought chills to Carlos’ spine. One stare from the patriarch of the Menchaca family was enough to make most people freeze in their tracks. Except for Carlos’ parents. Domingo used his stern demeanor and formidable presence to bully almost everyone that got in his way. But not Hector and Elena Rocha. They never let Domingo get the best of them, even when he came at them with everything he had. Carlos knew that if they were going to fight, they needed to find a way to dig into their DNA and pull out whatever they could.

“But we can’t just sit around and let this happen though. There has to be something we can do.” Carlos was pacing at this point. He always did when he got excited or anxious. The way he was feeling he was going to walk straight through the floor.

Beto stayed behind the desk. “There’s not much we can do now. I’ve been calling lawyers all over, and they all say same thing: just sell. And to tell you the truth, I think I just might.”

Carlos stopped pacing. “You can’t be serious. How can you think of selling all this? This is our family’s legacy. We have a responsibility to keep this going.”

Beto came around from behind the desk and confronted Carlos. “Do not lecture me on our family’s legacy or responsibilities. In fact, you are the last person who can tell me anything about that. Besides, what is it to you? I’m gonna ask you again: Why do you care so much now?”

Carlos didn’t say a word. Part of the reason was because he was filled with so much rage. The other was because he didn’t really know the answer himself. Beto was right, he never thought of going back, and he certainly never pictured himself taking over the ranch. But there was something pulling him in, making him say those things. He couldn’t explain it. One thing was for sure, he was not about to let Beto know that he lost his job. That would give Beto too much ammunition to form his own conclusions.

“Oh, so now you have nothing to say,” Beto exclaimed.

“Would you believe anything I told you? Fine, yes, some of this is guilt. I do want to make some things right, especially after hearing that Mom called out for me. But I still hold so much anger, and it’s hard to let go. Maybe I just feel that this would help me move past all this. If you sell, then I’ll really never get a chance.”

For a moment it looked as if Beto might have sympathized. His eyes had a hint of concern. But as soon as it came, it went just as fast, and once again Beto’s eyes displayed nothing but anger towards his brother.

“Poor you. You know other people are gonna feel this too? I’ll have to let go of everyone. Well, the ones who haven’t left. Eugenio was able to convince some people to stay, and luckily, I have an account that Menchaca hasn’t found, so I can keep them paid for a bit. But that won’t last long, which is why I think it is best that I just sell the place before it is too late. There will be enough time for everyone to find a new job, and the money will help me get settled somewhere before I figure out my next move. So, whatever guilt trip you are on, you need to stop. Your life isn’t the only one that matters.”

It was now Carlos’s turn to return the anger. “I never said it was all about me. That’s why I want to fix things, so that no one has to lose their jobs. And we can run this together, like I’m sure Mom wanted.”

Beto walked towards the door and stood by it. “What Mom wante– I would love to keep arguing with you about this, but I’ve got calls to make, and then prepare for the rosary tonight. Though it would be fun to see you try and do some of this type of work. Maybe I should let you do some of the chores around here. Then you might not want to stay and I can sell.”

The lamp on Beto’s desk flickered a bit, then the small mirror on the opposite wall fell off, shattering into several pieces.

“Great, more bad luck,” Beto moaned as he walked over to pick up the pieces. Carlos walked over and helped him.

“Careful, don’t cut your hands on that,” Carlos cautioned.

Beto laughed. “You sound just like Mami when you say it like that.” Beto’s look went from laughter to sadness. “I miss her so much. It hurts to sell, but I don’t see a choice. Not with how dirty the Menchacas are fighting.”

“I feel like there is still more to all this that you aren’t telling me.”

Beto kept on picking up the pieces.

“Beto, please, what is it?”

“I didn’t get a chance to see if there was a will on file. Someone broke into the house the other day and left a mess in here. Papers were scattered and torn everywhere, and the computer and files were damaged beyond repair. I called the police, but they were no help. They said that since I didn’t know if the papers existed, then I couldn’t be sure someone took them. They said it was probably a kid looking for drugs or quick money.”

“But you don’t think so.”

“No, but I can’t prove it was Menchaca. He’s not going to stop, and I just don’t have the energy.”

Carlos stopped collecting pieces and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You’ll see. We can fix all this. Just give it a chance.” Both went back to collecting the broken glass. Carlos wasn’t sure, but while he was examining one of the pieces, he thought he saw something moving in the corner of the room. Yet when he turned, nothing was there. He chalked it up to simply being a figment of his imagination and continued to help Beto clean up.

 

About the Author

Michael War is a writer whose real life tends to be on the boring side, which is why his imagination seems to float towards gay romance. Aside from writing about beautiful gay men of all types (bears, jocks, twinks) getting it on, he also enjoys writing poetry and screenplays. War holds an MFA in Creative Writing and plans to write more romance themed books in the near future. Follow him on Twitter and Facebook for updates on upcoming stories or with any questions or comments. Or, you can read his blog for some mindless ramblings.

 

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Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: “I’ve Got You” by Becca Seymour. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

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Book Title: I’ve Got You

Author: Becca Seymour

Publisher: Rainbow Tree Publishing

Cover Artist: Booksmith Design

Release Date: July 2, 2019

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: Single dad romance

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 69 000 words/240 approx. pages

It is a standalone story. It is the same world with different characters as Let Me Show You.

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Blurb

When a single dad and a newly outed veterinarian meet by chance, it takes red-cheeked conversations, a tentative friendship, and the willingness to put their hearts on the line to show these men they’re made for each other.

Single dad Davis Jackson is busy balancing his coffee shop and being the best dad he can be. That doesn’t mean he’s not lonely. After a fumbling encounter with a man who looks as gorgeous as he does unhappy, Davis is left wondering who the mystery man is.

All Davis knows is that he has never felt such an instant attraction to anyone before, but when he discovers the brown-eyed man’s identity, it’s clear the recently out-of-the-closet veterinarian is lost and quite possibly broken.

A swoon-worthy low-angst stand-alone contemporary M/M romance featuring characters from LET ME SHOW YOU.

 

Excerpt

I cleared my throat, suddenly aware I’d stayed quiet for a few seconds too long. “Hey.” My voice was gravelly and sounded unnaturally deep.

The guy paused in front of me, his hands dipping into his jeans pockets. He was quiet for a beat, seeming to contemplate what to say.

“You know Rex then?”

I nodded and then took a glance at the large head resting on my lap. With a small nod, I smiled. “Yeah. He finally likes me, so I’m taking it as a win that we’re friends.”

The brown-eyed man’s head tilted slightly, his gaze scanning my face a moment before his eyes returned to mine. “So you’re a friend of Carter’s?”

A humorless snort burst free, not enough to startle Rex, but enough for the guy to raise his brows. I cleared my throat again, not especially liking the fact that it seemed to be closing up and becoming uncomfortably dry in front of this guy. “Well, sort of. We used to work together.”

“Not anymore?”

I bit back the bitter retort dancing on my tongue, tempted to ask if that wasn’t what “used to” explicitly meant. There was no need for me to be so defensive or any bigger of an asshole than I already had a reputation for being.

“Nope. Just trying to figure out my next move.” I clamped my mouth shut, wondering why I’d shared so much. He sat on the lounger beside me, stopping my analysis. “Please, take a seat.” Damn, I really needed to learn to keep my mouth shut and stop being a dickhead. “Sorry.” I threw him a small grimace, noticing both of his perfectly arched brows were lifted, his attention solely on me. There was also a small smile on his lips. I was positive I saw it twitch.

“Hey, I can leave.”

Though, he stayed put, making no indication he planned on moving. He didn’t even shrug or twitch as he spoke.

While solitude had been what I’d craved, I was smart enough to recognize that just maybe not being alone was a good thing. Being alone, I was discovering, was not helpful at all. All it did was give me too much time with my thoughts. And that had a habit of screwing with my head. While I’d sought the quiet, especially since my blowout with Carter a while back, I recognized how dangerous isolation could be. Loneliness was a slippery slope.

 

About the Author

Becca Seymour lives and breathes all things book related. Usually with at least three books being read and two WiPs being written at the same time, life is merrily hectic. She tends to do nothing by halves so happily seeks the craziness and busyness life offers.

Living on her small property in Queensland with her human family as well as her animal family of cows, chooks, and dogs, Becca appreciates the beauty of the world around her and is a believer that love truly is love.

 

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Love’s Glory” by Janice Jarrell.

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Book Title: Love’s Glory (Revolutionary Heart series)

Author: Janice Jarrell

Cover Artist: Robin Vuchnich / mycustombookcover.com

Release Date: June 29, 2019

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

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They did it all for the glory of love.

Blurb

In October of 2017 cocky, alpha-male Irishman, Colin Campbell, Sergeant in Charge of the Special Assault Unit of the University of Virginia Campus Police Force, dove in front of a bullet meant for a University of Virginia student. The bullet shattered his thigh and severed his femoral artery, a wound which nearly took Colin’s life and left him temporarily disabled. His infirmities robbed him of the strength and athletic prowess which had been his for most of his life leaving him humiliated and bereft.

When Colin was shot, his partner, Joshua Abrams, a Doctor of Psychology at the Rainier Clinic in Charlottesville, never once left his side. He poured every ounce of strength and love he possessed into healing the magical Irishman whom he adored and was overwhelmed with relief and gratitude when Colin was taken off the critical list. Thinking that they had survived their trial, he took Colin home, believing that their happiness was now assured.

But like many injured police officers, Colin subsequently withdrew from his partner. Overwhelmed by feelings of shame and embarrassment, he devoted himself almost obsessively to the physical therapy with which he hoped to rebuild his strength and reclaim the life he had lost. Unable to share his pain and feelings of inadequacy, he shut Joshua out, leaving him to cope alone with the post-traumatic stress he suffered as a result of Colin’s shooting.

In the following months Colin and Joshua fought to keep their relationship alive. Although deeply in love, they felt powerless to cope with the after-effects of Colin’s injuries both to his body and to his pride as a man, and to heal the emotionally devastating PTSD with which Joshua suffered.

Love’s Trials tells the story of this painful and challenging time in Colin and Joshua’s life. As we join them now, Colin is still walking with a cane and still suffering the physical after effects of his injuries. But he and Joshua are both in therapy and are now dealing positively with the emotional and psychological damage they both endured.

They face their future side by side, determined to stand or fall together, as soul mates and lovers. This book follows them on their journey as they move toward the happy future they both long to share. You can count on a happy ending. In fact, you can count on a happy read. In this book, Colin and his beloved Joshua have left their trials behind and now revel in Love’s Glory.

Excerpt

“I can change, Josh.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“In fact, I’m changing already.”

“I’m fully aware of that.”

“Does it worry you?”

“Well, of course, it worries me.”

“Why?”

Joshua sighed. He scooted higher then dipped his head to kiss Colin’s chest. “Because maybe the new Colin won’t…,” he faltered, “won’t likeme.”

“Different Colin. Not new.”

“Still.” Joshua pressed his face to Colin’s body, his warm breath caressing the solid muscles beneath his lips.

Colin’s hand cupped his chin and lifted it. “Josh, right now I’m a kite in the wind flip-flopping all over the sky. The only thing keeping me sane is that I know you’re holding the string.”

Joshua bowed his head, his lips pressed to Colin’s skin. The breath he drew in trembled in his throat. “Glad to hear it,” he murmured. “Real glad.”

“You’re my bedrock, Josh. My oak.”

Joshua met his eyes and stared into their honeyed-green depths. The frown had disappeared from Colin’s face, replaced by an expression of profound love. He smiled down at Joshua, then bent and hooked one powerful arm around him, lifting him until his body was sprawled on top of Colin’s, molded to him down their entire length.

“You worry too much,” Colin murmured then dragged his tongue across the crook of Joshua’s neck.

“It’s an ethnic problem,” Joshua replied, and felt Colin quiver with laughter.

“I’m not buying that, ” Colin said, still chuckling. “I’ve seen you eat pork. You’re a piss-poor Jew.”

Joshua lifted his head and grinned at his partner. “I’m not a piss-poor Jew,” he protested. “I’m a genetic Jew who doesn’t keep kosher.”

“Semantics,” Colin muttered, pulling Joshua down into his kiss.

Joshua moaned as their mouths molded together in a passionate echo of their bodys’ intimacy. He felt the shape of Colin’s mouth pressed softly against his and his breath caught in his throat. His lover’s kiss was filled with tenderness, and within the fervor of that kiss Joshua felt Colin’s desire that he feel secure in the love of his magical Irishman.

When their mouths parted, Joshua slid his lips to Colin’s ear. “You know,” he whispered, “you should never mistake my momentary bouts of insecurity as a sign that I don’t believe in us.” He lifted his head and, again, his eyes met Colin’s. “Because I do.”

“You’d better,” Colin muttered. “Or you’re gonna feel pretty damned silly fifty years from now.”

Joshua nodded, his face against his lover’s shoulder, his body nestled against Colin’s as they lay pressed together, filling in Colin’s every muscular ridge with the planes and contours of his own physique. “My god,” he whispered, “you feel so fucking good.”

“So do you,” Colin replied. He slid his fingers into Joshua’s dark curls and tugged, lifting his face until their eyes were inches apart. “I chose you,” he murmured, his voice rough-edged. “Don’t ever forget that, Joshua. I could have had any guy I wanted… all of the gays and quite a few of the straights, far as that goes. But I chose you.”

Joshua smiled. “I know. Seeing you sitting at my dining room table that day was the biggest shock of my life.”

“And I had no intention of leaving until you agreed to come back to Virginia with me.” Colin’s fingers moved to Joshua’s cheek, tracing the angles of his face. “I would have been back, pounding on your door, every single day until you said ‘yes’.” He relaxed onto his pillow. “I went to Glencoe to get you and I wasn’t leaving ’til I hadyou.”

Joshua laughed. “It’s not like you had to struggle much. I caved pretty quickly.”

“Yeah. A real time-saver, that, because, believe me, I wasn’t going anywhere.”

About the Author

My name is Janice Jarrell. I am a retired grandmother who lives in Seattle, WA. I have two children and three grandsons. I’ve been writing gay romance since I was twelve years old, only back then it wasn’t called ‘gay romance’. In fact, it had no name at all. It was the fifty’s, and it was worth your life to admit to being gay, let alone confess to being a girl who constantly fantasized about relationships between gay men. Hell, I didn’t even know what a homosexual was. I lived on a farm out in the sticks in a tiny Michigan village and I’d never, to my knowledge, even heard the word. I just knew I loved the thought of boy on boy romance. I just knew that there was something hot going on between Tom Corbett and his Space Cadets and all those guys on ‘Combat’.

I wrote slash fanfiction for 30 years, writing over 337 stories, some as short as 100 words (a drabble) some as long as a series which was over 119,012 words. I enjoy writing my stories. I enjoyed the feedback I received from my readers. It was a creative release I’d been searching for my entire life and I blessed the Internet for leading me to this artistic oasis for my spirit.

Love’s Magic was my very first step into writing my own characters. I will always be grateful the slash fanfiction community for nurturing the budding author until she was ready to blossom into a fully realized novelist. It’s been an amazing thing to watch the gay community’s growth over these past twenty years. My own journey has echoed theirs in many ways, and I’m grateful to all those gay activists who fought to give the gay community the rights and privileges they always deserved.

My second contemporary gay romance novel, Love’s Trials followed Colin and Joshua on their journey as men and as a couple. The readers who fell in love with them in Love’s Magic were thrilled to see their romance continue to grow and blossom, but were forced to watch our beloved boys go through some pretty traumatic trials in this book, trials which nearly shattered their relationship. But their love proved stronger than any troubles in the end and they now move forward into the happiness they know they deserve.

In Love’s Glory, my newest release, Colin and Joshua bask in the happiness that eluded them in Love’s Trials. If you’re looking for a book filled with anger, fear, and anxiety… look elsewhere. Love’s Glory is about just that… the glory of love and the continued growth of these two extraordinary men and the amazing friends who are a large part of their lives.

I’m also grateful to the gay romance community, readers, authors, publishers and promoters, who are making these, my retirement years, the most creative ones of my life. When I’m not writing, I’m traveling, walking, hiking, knitting, crocheting, and weaving, and enjoying my life here in the heart of the Pacific Northwest.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Mated” by Tricia Owens.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Mated

Author: Tricia Owens

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Tricia Owens

Genre/s: Paranormal MM Romance, wolf shifters

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 84 000 words

Release Date: July 2, 2019

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Blurb

As the brother of the pack alpha, Wren knows his place, even if that place occasionally brings him to harm. But when a handsome new alpha and his pack come to town, challenging the status quo, Wren finds himself torn between the old wolf shifter attitude and a new one.

Gideon is the alpha of the Corwin pack. Though he moved into the territory to take advantage of business opportunities, the moment he encounters the young black wolf with the blue eyes, he finds his priorities changing. Wren is obedient as a good beta should be, but Gideon is banking on him having a rebellious streak. The only way to find out is to gamble: by forcing a marriage between their packs. But it’s a step that unleashes homophobia, deadly danger, and the discovery of a dark secret that was never meant to surface.

Excerpt

Gideon slowly lowered himself to one knee.

Wren sucked in a breath. “You shouldn’t—”

“I believe you when you say you don’t follow True Call.” Gideon’s voice was low and rich. “But I also believe that a part of you has grown used to it and is struggling with the concept of an alpha who doesn’t need to hurt you to command you.”

“Get up,” Wren gritted out. He was beginning to sweat. Even though he knew his reaction was disproportionate to what was occurring, his body refused to listen. “You shouldn’t be on your knees in front of me.”

“This bothers you, doesn’t it? Me in a classically subservient position.”

“It’s not right.”

Wren went taut as Gideon raised a hand and stroked the tips of his fingers down Wren’s throat. His forefinger paused, resting atop his pulse.

“What if I’m on my knees for you?” Gideon stroked across his pulse point. “Seems you like that better, hmm?”

“Please stand up.” Wren dug his fingers into his thighs.

“No.” Gideon dropped his gaze. “I like the view here.”

He eyed the bulge in Wren’s jeans as though considering whether it would fit in his mouth. Though the thought of Gideon giving him a blowjob was mind-blowing, Wren wasn’t sure he wanted it to happen.

As if he could read Wren’s mind, Gideon glanced up at him. “You’d tell me no, wouldn’t you? If I offered to.”

Wren wished he could close his legs, but with Gideon kneeling between them he was stuck. Vulnerable.

“What if I didn’t offer?” Gideon dropped the hand that had been touching Wren’s pulse. He placed it high on Wren’s thigh, a mere inch from where all the blood in Wren’s body was gathering. “What if I told you I’m going to do it and I want you to sit here like a good little pup and enjoy your alpha’s attention?”

A moan crawled up Wren’s throat, but he caught it at the last minute, releasing a strangled sound instead. Gideon’s eyes darkened and the wry amusement that had been lingering on his features fell away.

“Should I test you?”

About the Author

Tricia Owens has been writing m/m fiction since 2000, after stumbling onto the term ‘slash’ and thinking it referred to horror stories. She is the author of Sin City, A Pirate’s Life for Me, and Juxtapose City series, among several others. She lives in Las Vegas.

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