RELEASE BLITZ
Book Title: Restored Ruins (A Paranormal Gay Daddy
Romance)
Author: G.R.
Lyons
Publisher:
Self-published
Cover Artist: Dana Leah at
Designs by Dana
Release Date: February 25,
2022
Genre: Paranormal M/M/M Romance
Tropes: Age gap, second
chances, hurt/comfort, found family, celebrity/commoner
Themes: Faith/belief/acceptance (not religious) of self and possibility,
love
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 60 000 words/ 240
pages
It is a standalone story and
does not end on a cliffhanger. It has an HEA
ending.
It is the first book in a new
series.
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
Kidnapped by his idol?
Yes, please!
Blurb
Connor Jenkins is sick of rejection. Now, instead of getting
close to anyone, he lives vicariously through other people’s phones and webcams. Thanks to
his skills, he always gets away with it.
Until he hacks his idol.
Brendan Shyth is haunted by loss. First, the death of his
boy. Then the end of his music career thanks to a grief-induced drunken accident. Fringe
science regrew his fingers, but he still can’t bring himself to play again. Avoiding his fans, the
media, and his manager, Brendan hides in his mansion, determined to be left alone.
Until he finds his webcam on and realizes someone is
watching him. Someone other than the ghost of his dead lover, that is.
Brendan has Connor tracked down and kidnapped,
meaning to teach him a lesson. But the teasing brat gets under his skin in a way that no one
has in years.
A boy in need of security. A ghost in need of acceptance. A
man in need of faith. With a career, sanity, and hearts on the line, can these men overcome
their fears before it’s too late?
Restored Ruins is the first book in the Gentleman
Hackers series. It features a boy whose hair color never stays the same, a daddy who puts
him in serious time-out, a ghost desperate to be seen, and an MMM HEA ending. No pianos
were harmed in the writing of this romance (though they do make good horizontal
surfaces).
Excerpt
Had he really been kidnapped?
First of all, rude.
He tried to blink the haze from his vision while he
processed this strange, new reality.
Someone had actually managed to catch him.
Well, shit. Well done.
Connor started to sit up, then paused. Two things occurred
to him at once. Three things,
actually. One, it was somehow morning
already. Two, he was in a bed. With some
amazingly soft sheets, by the way. Damn. He
was going to have to figure out what they were made of and get some for himself.
Not that he could probably afford them, but, hey, a boy
could dream.
And, three…
He was naked.
Connor raised an eyebrow. Huh.
He stared up at the ceiling as he took stock of his body. The
soft sheets cascaded over his naked skin, making him hyper-aware of every tiny movement
he made. A slow inhale made the fabric brush teasingly over his nipples, and a slight shift of
his leg had the sheets drifting over his groin. Connor squeezed his legs together.
Holy fuck. Much more of that and he would be a horny mess, though it was already almost too
late for that.
Connor paused, wondering if his kidnappers were watching
him.
He bit back a moan at the idea, then muttered a curse and
shook his head. He had to focus.
Connor drew his arms out from under the sheets. He
wasn’t restrained in any way. There was nothing stopping him from getting out of bed and
exploring the room. And he didn’t feel pain anywhere. Other than where the needle had
gone in. That still stung.
Again. Rude.
Connor rubbed the spot and slowly sat up. At least his
kidnapper had been kind enough to keep the ground from punching him in the face. That
would not have been fun.
He paused, then probed all over his face with his fingertips,
just to be sure.
Nothing hurt there. Connor: one. Ground: zero. Ha! Take that.
Chuckling to himself, he glanced around the room, trying to
guess where he might be. It looked like a normal bedroom—bed, dresser, nightstands,
lamps—but way more high-end than he was used to. Spacious. Elegant. Obviously
expensive, but tastefully so. And it didn’t have the rubber-stamp feel of a hotel room.
Connor had seen plenty of those—from casual hookups with businessmen just passing
through town—so he would know.
But this was different. This was custom. Unique. This was
someone’s home.
He looked to one side and saw a pair of glass doors leading
out to a balcony, the view obscured by some gauzy curtains. Across from him was an open
doorway into a washroom. Connor blinked. Holy
shit. Even from that angle, the washroom
looked enormous, and he was sure he wasn’t even seeing half of it.
On the nightstand beside him was a small computer tablet.
When Connor started to reach for it, the device detected his proximity and illuminated the
screen, showing him a home control panel. There were options for room temperature,
dimmed lighting, and blackout window shades, amongst other things.
Connor smirked. Don’t worry, darling. I’ll play with you later.
He grabbed the sheets, meaning to toss them aside and get
out of bed so he could explore the room more thoroughly, then stopped when he heard the
snap of a key in a lock.
Connor spotted the door—fancy double doors, in fact—and
watched them slowly open.
He blinked stupidly and almost laughed as a butler
appeared in the widening gap. An actual, real-life butler. White gloves and all.
Before Connor could voice his mirth, though, the butler
stepped aside and bowed his head deferentially, revealing another man who’d been
standing behind him.
The second man took a few steps into the room, glaring
directly at Connor.
Connor’s jaw dropped.
Holy shit.
Vesad Stromos. Right there. In the flesh.
He’d been kidnapped by Vesad Stromos. Forget just spying
on the man through a hacked webcam. He was actually inside the famous musician’s
house.
Day. Fucking. Made!
About the Author
G.R. Lyons stumbled into
writing as a form of trauma recovery when traditional therapy wasn’t working.
Then the story ideas just kept
on coming.
Pulling from a vivid
imagination as well as real-life experience as a trans man, a sexual assault survivor, and a
person living with mental illness, Lyons has written multiple, interconnected series set
within his fictional world of the Shifting Isles.
When not writing, Lyons can
be found belly dancing around the house, studying anarcho-capitalist philosophy, buried in
his never-ending TBR pile, or working out at the local CrossFit gym.
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