NEW RELEASE: “Bachelorx” by Skylar Lyralen Kaye

NEW RELEASE 

Book Title: Bachelorx: a Nonbinary Memoir

Author and Publisher: Skylar Lyralen Kaye

Cover Artist: 100 Covers

Release Date: April 1, 2026

Pairing: Nonbinary protagonist/lesbian and trans love interests

Tense/POV: present tense/alternating POV.

Genres: Literary memoir with graphic and autofiction elements

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Themes: Coming out, Dating and sex, search for love, queer divorce, neurodiversity

Heat Rating: 3 flames  

Length: 319 pages

It is a standalone book.

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A 60-something nonbinary queer abruptly leaves a 35-year sexless marriage to go on the apps and date, bringing along all their very vocal personalities.

Style

Worth noting that Bachelorx contains both graphic elements and fictional/mythopoetic elements. It’s intentionally outside the box, aiming for a true representation of neurodiversity while including comedy.

Blurb 

When nonbinary Orpheus leaves their much-loved asexual partner Tobi after 35 years, they have never dated sober, never had a casual girlfriend and never had sober sex. At the age of sixty-two, they’re good at marriage and not at anything casual.

They’ve been living out and proud not only as nonbinary, but also as plural, filming a queer web series.

They’re completely unprepared for middle aged lesbians and their complicated desires. Romance, flirting, love-bombing, control, seduction, desire roll into Orpheus’ life and wake up every possible opinion among their many vocal and vulnerable personalities.

Their very painful history gets woken up in all their inner people, too.

As teenager personalities revel in the “queer prom that never was,” as Orpheus experiences a first kiss with a much younger trans person and then goes on to make out with a woman who confesses trauma in between flicks of her tongue, as child personalities run for cover and the wise inner yoga teacher Kaye warns that none of them are ready to date, Orpheus dog paddles through the waves of dysfunctional urge-to-merge dating.

Then two friends die and their landlord sells their building. Their now ex Tobi totals their car and breaks their own back. 

Will a Eurydice appear, Orpheus wonders, as they search the apps.

Then she does, with a lump in her breast, heart problems, a live-in mother, disabled son and a need for a partner who will hold on, listen and take care of her no matter what comes, as they touch in a rush of a second adolescent joy.

At week six, Eurydice’s at passion. At week seven, she’s talking about adding an addition to her house.

And Orpheus, who will say that they’re plural but won’t show it, who resists commitment only in their silences, goes to every medical appointment, every work occasion, every family party, as their personalities argue about whether to stay, whether to go, whether anything could possibly be right with this woman they can’t get enough of touching.

Every hero must journey to Hades. In the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, innocence is sacrificed to experience. Life walks in when you open the door. No matter your age or circumstances.

Excerpt 

Chapter 1: Becoming Everything

The child Orpheus comes forward in a memory of sunlight. Walking the long line of the green painted two by fours that top posts connecting a chain link fence, they follow its border behind the suburban homes of their Ohio neighborhood. They balance easily, their 1960’s striped t-shirt warmed by the light. Around them insects and birds raise voices for them to listen. They never fall. Held to the earth by tentacles of energy they send to every living being, they ask Gaia to become one with all life, just for a while, just until the pain eases and they can rise alone into a liminal sky, turning poems into songs.

Not boy, not girl, not feminine, not masculine, not straight, not cisgender, not singular, not a member of any tribe that will lay claim to them, Orpheus learns early to become everything. 

* * *

That pandemic spring, I slump over my computer late into the evening with colleagues in California, figuring out how to get actors to film themselves while crew observes on Zoom. Outside the window, the moon hovers over treetops and telephone poles. At the far end of the street the commuter rails screeches by, empty of people. Staring forward into the computer screen, I compare lighting between sets in San Francisco and Pottstown, Pennsylvania. My director of photography assesses eyelines as I give notes to actors before calling for one last take to wrap the day. A multicolored collage of queer bodies appears on the screen as close Zoom. Androgynous nonbinary bodies like mine, trans masc like my spouse, cisgender women, old, young, BIPOC, full-bodied, thin, allo and asexual, appear with a background of pink, people like the ones I interviewed and whose stories I tell. 

I stagger into the bedroom. Pull off my jeans and fall onto the bed in boxer shorts. My spouse Tobi stands near the entrance to the kitchen, tapping a foot on the floor, a stained green button down over their full belly. They stare, deep-set brown eyes burning toward me, toes pointed out, just a little bowlegged.

“Five minutes, Orpheus,” they say. “You could at least give me five minutes.”

“I have to sleep.”

“Then in the morning.”

“I have to work. You know I have to work.”

“Get up five minutes early.”

“I can’t. I’m too tired.” 

They stomp into the kitchen, bang some cabinets. I cover my head with a pillow. 

The next day, Tobi, now wearing a stained brown shirt—their ability to spill food on themself still confounds me after three decades—turns on the Biden-Trump debate at full volume. Stomping over the hardwood floors into the bedroom, I grab the clicker from where it lies on the bed.

“Everyone on Zoom can hear you.” I turn the television off.

They grab the clicker and turn it back on.

I turn it off.

They turn it on.

I turn it off.

“Watch on your computer or somewhere else,” I tell them. “I am WORKING!”

Abandonment issues meet workaholic artist.

Two days later, Tobi leaves to stay in an Airbnb so I can work in peace. Sleep in peace. Not be triggered. 

They stay away for a month. 

When they come home, I bring up polyamory.

About the Author  

Skylar Lyralen Kaye, fae/they is a queer, neurodivergent, social justice and award-winning writer as well as a lifelong activist. They have a BA in English from the University of Arizona and an MFA in Theater fromSarah Lawrence College.

Kaye was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in Fiction in 1997 and was a finalist for the 2005 Massachusetts Cultural Council of thebArts Awards in Playwriting. They have published in literary journals such as Calyx, Persona, Phoebe, Girlfriends, Happy Magazine and the

anthology Out of the Ordinary, Children of LGT Parents as well having published the novella Priest Kid and most recently the novel Leaving Winter for a Desert Sky. Skye has had multiple theatrical productions of their plays as well as performing as a solo artist and running the theater company Another Country Productions. Their most recent awards include the 2021 NE Film Star Award as well as 13 film festival awards for the web series Assigned Female at Birth. In 2018 they won Best in Fringe at the San Francisco Fringe for the one person show My Preferred Pronoun Is We, in 2017 the Moth Story Slam and in 2018 the Boston Story Slam. Some other awards include: the 2015 Meryl Streep Writers Lab for Screenwriters and the 2002

Stanley and Eleanor Lipkin Prize in Playwriting.

Author Links

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SERIES TOUR: “The Christopher Books” by Stephen G. Hardy

SERIES TOUR

THE CHRISTOPHER BOOKS by Stephen G Hardy

 LGBTQ+ Contemporary/Literary fiction with a speculative element

Christopher Dunn is a young man who possesses unique qualities that draw people to him. In return, everyone who meets him is changed for the better. Everyone could use a Christopher in their lives.

The three books in the series need to be read in order.

Overall Heat Rating for the series: 2 flames

Follow Christopher as he explores various types of relationships

and the impact he has on the lives of others.

BOOK DETAILS

BOOK 1

Book Title:  Search for Complete

Cover Artist: Ryan Mulford

Length: 83 00 words /380 pages

Release Date: June 4, 2023

Pairing: MMF

Tense/POV: 2 POV’s in the first person

Genres: LGBTQ+ Contemporary/Literary fiction with a speculative element

Tropes: Unrequited love

Themes: Interpersonal relationships, asexuality

It can be read as a standalone story, but it is part of a series.

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK

Blurb 

“Why do I get the feeling that Christopher is the type of man that would make the perfect husband for any woman and, at the same time, the perfect wife for any man?” Laura says shortly after Christopher begins his new job at the TV station. Laura’s statement would turn out to hold more truth than she could imagine. No one who meets Christopher, especially not Laura, as well as David, a gay man he meets at a party, understands what it is about him that draws them to him. They also don’t realize that Christopher is searching for something, a search complicated by their desires for him.

Awards: 2024 International Impact Book Award winner for LGBTQ+ Literary Fiction; The BookFest Awards, Fall 2023- Honorable mention LGBTQ+ Literary Fiction

BOOK 2

Book Title: The Price of Happiness

Length: 83 000 words/372 pages

Release Date: November 24, 2023

Tropes: Unrequited love 

Themes: Interpersonal relationships, trans

Tense/POV: 2 POV’s in the first person

 This is the second book in the series and the first has to have been read.

It ends on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK

Blurb

As Search for Complete left off, the birth of his twins had just completed Christopher. However, though he has what he had searched so long for, he now must deal with the associated costs, namely the unraveling of his relationship with Laura, the mother of his twins. The birth of the twins should have brought Laura joy, yet, instead, she finds herself on an intense emotional rollercoaster. Laura resents Christopher’s happiness—resents that he is a better mother than she is. But most of all, Laura resents that the twins are Christopher’s spitting image—nowhere does she see herself in them. Christopher fears his happiness in becoming a father has become Laura’s undoing. As he tries to help her adjust to the reality of their situation, Laura struggles to find herself in the tangled mess of their relationship.

In The Price of Happiness, Stephen Hardy has created a profound and moving novel on the themes of parenthood, identity, love and loss—and the cost of getting what we want.

BOOK 3

Book Title: When the Sun and Moon Touch

Length:  85,000 words/397 pages

Release Date: March 29, 2024

Genres:  LGBTQ+ Contemporary Fiction, M/M Romance

Tropes: MM relationships/romance

Themes: Gender identity, asexuality, interpersonal relationships

Tense/POV: 2 POV’s in the first person

The stories need to be read in order. This book picks up where book two left off.

This book does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK

Blurb 

Christopher has settled into life as a single father to his twins, Loren and Christine. Content with his life, he is contemplating the imminent return of their mother Laura, who has been traveling through Europe for nearly a year, when he meets Benjamin, a direct descendant of the sun. Suddenly, his contentment is upended as he tries to understand the reason for their meeting. Despite what Benjamin says, that they are meant to be together, 

Christopher initially tries to hold Benjamin at arm’s length, believing that he is only to be for Benjamin what Joseph was to him—a friend and mentor. 

Excerpt

Opening scene from book 3: When the Sun and Moon Touch

Their laughter brought me great joy as I watched Loren and Christine mount the short flight of steps and slide down the slide on their behinds. They were quite independent, except for each other, even at the age of two, and had refused my assistance. While they romped, I sat on the bench to watch and enjoy what had turned out to be a lovely day for the end of March. In this moment I felt as though I had not a care in the world.

  The sound of an email arriving on my phone startled me. Pulling it from my jacket pocket, I was surprised to see it was from Laura, as it was rare to get one from her.

Christopher

I am planning on returning at the beginning of May. Please let the rental company know they need to have the tenants vacate by the end of April. Thanks.

Laura

  That was it. There was nothing about how she was doing or what she planned to do upon her return. She did not even ask after the twins. But then she never asked about them. I tried not to read anything into this, but it was not easy. 

It had been nearly a year since Laura had left our children in my sole custody while she backpacked her way around Europe in order to find herself, something I had supported both emotionally and financially. She never let on how she was doing in any of her very short emails. And now, she was coming back. 

I put my phone away and looked at the twins, thinking about what Laura’s return could mean for us. Would Laura still feel the same way about things as she had when she left: that the twins belonged to me and not to her?

“Excuse me?” 

 Blinking at the sound of someone’s voice, I looked up to see a handsome man looking down at me with grey-green eyes that were all the more striking given his dark coloring. Suddenly, something flitted within his eyes, and I caught my breath. Could it be? Composing myself, I said, “Hello, may I help you?”

“Hi. No. I,” The stranger paused, suddenly flustered, “Sorry to disturb you, but are those children playing on the slide yours?” he blurted out.

“Yes, they are.”

“I thought so. They look just like you.” He held out his hand. “My name’s Benjamin Johnson.” 

“I am Christopher Dunn,” I replied, taking his hand and then indicating the place beside me on the bench, “You may join me if you wish.” I had to find out if what I had seen was indeed there.

Benjamin sat beside me, looking down at his hands while I looked at him. Looking up, he seemed about to say something and then stopped.

“Yes?” I prompted.

“Yes, what?” He stammered.

“Sorry, I thought you were going to ask me something.”

“Um, I was, but never mind.”

“No, please. Tell me what you were going to say,” I said, giving him a small smile of encouragement.

“Well, and I know this will sound ridiculous, but I had this weird feeling that something led me to you. God, I’m sorry. That sounds like some bad pickup line,” Benjamin said, laughing to cover up his embarrassment. Even with his dark skin, I could tell he was blushing.

“I do not think it sounds crazy at all.” I turned to face Benjamin, giving him my full attention. “Tell me more about this feeling.”

“I don’t know that there’s anything more to tell.”

“I think there is and would like to hear it,” I said, staring intently into his eyes, still amazed by what I saw there. What were the chances that I would meet someone like Joseph here in Balboa Park, seemingly by chance? But no, Benjamin had been guided to me if his statement was true.

“Um, okay, well, I was walking through the park and felt this pushing sensation against my back whenever I stopped to look at anything. It continued until I saw you.”

“Has there ever been another time you felt this?” I asked, not moving my eyes from his face.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I see.” For some reason, I did not believe him. “I take it you just moved to San Diego.”

“How did you know?”

“Your accent, for starters.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess that is a giveaway. I keep forgetting that here, I have an accent. I moved here in mid-January from Atlanta.”

“Was there a special reason for the move?”

“A job.”

His words surprised me. “Oh. Had you been looking for a new job?” I said, recalling that I had moved to San Diego for a similar reason.

“Actually, no, I hadn’t been looking. I got a call from a recruiter and . . .” Benjamin paused.

“And?” 

“Sorry. I just remembered that when I got the call about the job, I felt something was compelling me to take it. Kind of like what I described to you just now about being guided to you. But that must have been my imagination as well.”

“I see. You felt yourself being pushed to move here, and you felt the same sensation leading you to me,” I said, more to myself than to him.

“Crazy, isn’t it?”

“On the contrary, Benjamin, I find it very plausible.”

“Are you saying that I felt that desire to take the job here in order to meet you?”

“It is entirely possible,” I replied, still marveling at the coincidences of our experiences.

“But what possible reason could there be?”

That remains to be determined.”

About the Author 

Stephen Hardy was born in the San Francisco Bay Area but grew up in the Pacific Northwest. His career as a fashion designer took him back to San Francisco before he headed to New York City, where he met his husband of twenty years. Tiring of the hectic pace of the fashion industry, Stephen gave up his career to become a stay-at-home dad for his and his husband’s two adopted sons and a quiet life in Connecticut. Now residing in Phoenix, Arizona, and with the kids grown, Stephen returned to university, where he rediscovered his love for writing. His focus is on contemporary fiction, examining social issues regarding gender, sexuality, and relationships. Search for Complete is his first novel.

Author Links

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BOOK BLAST: “Fast, Free, and Flying” by Jude Tresswell

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Fast, Free and Flying (County Durham Quad, #6)

Author: Jude Tresswell

Publisher: Self-published (KDP)

Release Date: December 9, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary gay mystery

Trope/s: Ace/non-ace relationships

Themes:  Compromise; guilt; revenge

Heat Rating:  1 flame

Length: 63 000 words

The mystery story stands alone. Helpful, but not essential, to have read a previous title due to character development.

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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

 

Suspects of one crime. Victims of another.

 

Blurb

Drones lie at the heart of this mystery facing Mike, Ross, Raith and Phil, four men who live in North-East England.

A spate of art-related burglaries and a series of horrific kidnaps have occurred. The freedom of the quad, and that of Nick, their special friend, is threatened by involvement in both cases. They are suspected of one and Mike is a victim of the other. The officer in charge is the quad’s old enemy, the homophobic Chief Inspector Fortune. Should the quad set aside their distrust and tell him what they know?

Meanwhile, Nick has issues of his own to consider. Compromises are needed, but how many? 

This is the sixth tale in the County Durham Quad series. Background is included to aid new readers.

 

Excerpt

From Chapter 1

(The whole chapter, read by the author with aerial footage of the setting, is available on YouTube. Link below) 

A new sound had been added to the rustic ones that normally formed the backdrop to life in the Durham hills. Instead of the bleating of sheep, there was a whirring—and it came from the sky. The quad’s new video channel was up and running, and Raith, plus drone, was filming everything and everyone. He was, as he liked to put it, “Doing the rounds.”

   “Doin’ my head in,” was how it seemed to Mike and, right then, there was a danger of that actually happening. Mike was responsible for nearly all the quad’s maintenance work. He was sitting astride a rooftop, replacing the flashing on one of Tunhead’s chimneys. Tunhead was the little hamlet where the quad lived. It was the seat of BOTWAC, the Beck On The Wear Arts Centre, and the video channel was designed, in part, to promote the artisans’ wares.

   “Watch what you’re doin’ with that bloody thing!” Mike yelled from his perch.

   “It’s alright, Mike. I’m in full control,” Raith yelled back.

   “Not from where I am, you’re not! I thought you weren’t supposed to fly it over buildin’s!”

   Raith made the drone whizz round in a circle and shouted, “Well Tunhead doesn’t really count as buildings, does it? I mean, twelve tiny houses, my studio and a disused church. It’s hardly buildings.”

   “It felt like buildin’s when Ross and I were refurbishin’ it all, and it felt like buildin’s three years ago when I knocked the walls through to next door just to give you leg room.”

   “That’s building, Mike, not buildings.”

   Sometimes, there was no answer to Raith’s logic. Mike swore softly, sighed and decided to wait until tea-time, when all the men would be home together. They’d discuss Raith and his drone then. First things first. He continued repairing the chimney.

***

   In Tees, Tyne and Wear Constabulary’s new Tyneside police station, another drone-related conversation had caused heated words that day. The woman making a complaint was angry.

   “Look,” she said to the officer on the front counter, “this is the third time it’s happened in a fortnight. I ignored the first invasion of my privacy. The second time the blesséd thing was hovering overhead, I telephoned. I was told that someone would contact me. Nobody’s done so, and this morning it happened again. I want something doing. I feel I can’t go into my own garden and I’m bothered that whoever’s doing this is spying on me and my children. It’s horrible and it shouldn’t be allowed.”

   The woman had good reason to feel harassed. She lived in what had once been the lodge of a large country estate. That is, she occupied the house that lay at one end of a long, tree-lined drive. The drive led, through parkland with trees and an ornamental lake, to a substantial eighteenth century property. On three occasions recently, the peace of the surroundings had been broken by the whirring of a drone. More importantly, she felt intimidated by the drone’s presence. As she said, she felt she was being spied on. Surely that was a crime?

   It was, the official told her. At least two different offences connected with drone misuse might be invoked on the woman’s behalf, but, in a case like hers, invoking them was problematic. Even if an incident should happen again and a patrol car could reach her while the drone was still visible and airborne, there was little that officers could do. Firstly, they would need to locate and identify the flyer. If they felt that a harassment offence had been committed, they could instruct the flyer to land the drone. However, there was no power of seizure and, indeed, no power to even view the footage unless there was suspected terrorist activity—unlikely in this case. The woman had to be content with an apology and a promise that an officer would definitely come and visit her. In fact, a detective called a few days later, but not specifically because of her case. By then, the big country house had been burgled, and thousands of pounds of silver, porcelain and artwork had been stolen.

 

About the Author 

Jude Tresswell lives in south-east England but was born and raised in the north, and that’s where her heart is. She is ace, and has been married to the same man for many years. She feels that she understands compromise. She supports Liverpool FC, listens to a lot of blues music and loves to write dialogue.

Blog/Website

 

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: “A Share in a Secret” by Jude Tresswell.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: A Share in a Secret

Author: Jude Tresswell

Publisher: Self-published on Amazon KDP

Release Date: April 18, 2020

Genre/s: LGBTQ crime and mystery

Trope/s: Sexual/asexual relationship; gay polyamorous relationship

Themes: Compromise, trust, honesty

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 63 000 words/ 227 pages

It can be read as a standalone, although it is Book 5 of the County Durham Quad series.

Background information is included for new readers.

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Sooner or later, secrets will out…

Blurb

Mike, Ross, Raith and Phil are a gay, polyamorous quad who live in County Durham, North-East England. Mike’s nephews visit, and launch the quad into a tale involving inclusivity and investment scams, false arrest, and a desperate attempt to keep a dangerous secret hidden.

Meanwhile, Nick Seabrooke is now living and working in the village. Can the quad navigate the complexities of a sexual-asexual relationship? They would risk their safety for each other. Are they willing to do so for Nick?

This is the fifth County Durham Quad story. As always, background information is included for new readers.

Excerpt

Here is the start of the story. It’s a typical exchange between the four men…

Late afternoon in ‘Cromarty’, a normally quiet home in Tunhead, County Durham. Phil and Mike were seated in the living room. Phil stopped typing the article he was preparing for a medical journal and looked in the direction of the kitchen. Mike stopped skyping his brother, looked up too and, not really expecting an answer, asked, “What the fuck’s he up to now?”

The ‘he’ was Raith, Phil’s husband. Raith was a successful artist and ceramicist, but he sounded like someone intent on demolition not on creation.

“I thought all our kitchen units were the easy-glide, silently-closing variety,” Phil commented as another cupboard drawer slammed shut.

“They are, but the manufacturers hadn’t met Raith, had they? Nuthin’s Raith-proof, is it?”

The banging stopped and voices took their place. Ross, Mike’s civil partner, had come into the kitchen from the garden. He walked through to the living room and met Mike’s and Phil’s enquiring eyes.

“He’s made a chart. He was looking for something to stick it up with,” Ross explained.

Stick it up? It sounded like he was hammerin’ it up,” said Mike.

“A chart?”

“Yes. He’s fixing it on the wall now. It’ll either amuse you or horrify you. I’m not sure which. Possibly both. He wants us to discuss it before Nick comes round for his tea.”

“I thought we were involving Nick in all our discussions,” Phil remarked.

“Yes, but not this one. You’ll see why in a minute. Come on.”

Mike, Ross, Raith, Phil—and Nick. By their own definitions the first four men were four sorts of poly. Polydomestic: they shared the household duties. Polypecuniary: they shared their incomes too. Polydemocratic: they had equal say in decisions and tossed a coin if the vote was evenly split. And fourthly, they were polyamorous: they loved each other deeply, although Ross only had sex with Mike. Nick was Tunhead’s most recent inhabitant. He shared most of his meals and much of his spare time with the quad, but although he now lived in the village, he didn’t live in Cromarty. There were reasons for the need for a little separation. Hence Raith’s chart. Nick might be romantically and emotionally attracted to men or, rather, to one man—Mike—but he wasn’t attracted to anybody sexually. In fact, he was revolted by the thought of an intimately physical relationship.

Ross stood aside and ceremoniously waved Mike and Phil through to the kitchen. In place of the whiteboard that, ten minutes earlier, had indicated the week’s household duties list, there was a large sheet of cartridge paper divided into two vertical columns. The left hand column comprised extremely realistic drawings. The other, narrower one was partially filled in. It contained some ticks and some crosses.

“Are you plannin’ expandin’ into illustratin’ porn?” asked Mike as he studied the drawings. “That’s you, Phil! Bloody hell. That’s me!” he added, and pointed to a portrayal of two men indulging in frottage.

“Yes, I’ve already put a cross by that one,” Raith said. “I knew Nick wouldn’t like it.”

“Looks like you two liked it though,” Ross commented as, curious, he took a close look.

“So this is… what, exactly? And I’m not talkin’ about the drawin’s themselves. I can see what they are.”

“Well,” said Raith, “I thought it would save us a lot of future problems if we sorted out what we were allowed and not allowed to do when Nick’s in our home instead of in his place.”

“And you figured that a bloody big explicit poster starin’ at him over his tea was the best way to do it?”

About the Author

I’m married, I’ve grown-up children, I’m asexual (although a different sort of ace from Nick) and I do enjoy writing stories that aren’t constrained by hetero-norms.

The plots are always stimulated by something on the news – in this instance, the homophobic reaction of some people and groups to the UK government’s decision to introduce lessons on inclusivity into the school curriculum.

I enjoy writing light dialogue as well as dealing with serious issues, though, and I hope that some of the quad’s interchanges will make readers smile.

I talked about myself and my books on Brad Shreve’s Gay Mystery Podcast (an episode entitled Four Times As Much Mystery) in April, 2020. (Link below)

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Amazon Author Page for all works |

YouTube link to audio version of the short asexual/ sexual story Scar Ghyll Levels – available on Amazon Kindle.

(Audio version contains 200 photos of scenery)

Four Times As Much Mystery with Jude Tresswell (Ep. 028) on the Gay Mystery Podcast

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BOOK BLAST: “Earnest Ink” by Alex Hall

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Earnest Ink

Author: Alex Hall

Publisher: Nine Star Press

Published: October 14, 2019

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Genre/s: Queer Spec Fic, Sci-Fi/Fantasy, Thriller/Suspense

Trope/s: Found family

Themes: Mystery/adventure

Heat Rating: 1 flame

Orientation: Asexual, Pansexual

Identity: Cisgender, Trans

Warning: Depictions of Trauma, Blood, Violence, Murder,

Eating disorders, Body hatred, Transphobia, PTSD, War

Length: 72 100 words/244 pages

It is a standalone book.

Add on Goodreads

Blurb

While twenty-year-old FTM Hemingway is making an excellent living as a tattoo artist in a near-future version of Hell’s Kitchen, the rest of the country is splintered and struggling in the wake of a war gone on for too long. Technology has collapsed, borders rise and fall overnight, and magic has awakened without rhyme, reason, or rule, turning average unwitting citizens into wielders of strange and specific strands of magic.

Hemingway’s particular brand of magic has made him a household name. Not only is he a talented artist, but his work comes to life. Literally.

When NYC’s most infamous serial killer—the East River Ripper—abducts Hemingway’s best friend, Grace, he has only days to save her. Hemingway teams up with his stoic cop roommate to hunt for the killer and rescue Grace before she becomes the Ripper’s latest victim. But as the duo chase clues to the serial killer’s identity, Hemingway begins to fear the magic he and the Ripper share might eventually corrupt him too.

Buy Links

NineStar Press | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Smashwords | B&N | Kobo

Excerpt

Earnest Ink

Alex Hall © 2019

All Rights Reserved

I work without speaking because that’s the way I prefer it. The vibration of my machine, the softer buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead, the tap of my foot on the pedal—it’s the best music in the world.

When I hit a ticklish spot, the girl I’m working on gasps, jolting in my chair.

“Don’t move,” I say. And then, with a salesman’s false cheer: “Almost done!”

The girl is sweating down the crook of her neck. She’s got silver glitter paint on her eyelids and cheeks, a new fashion trend I just can’t quite get behind. Under my lights the mix of perspiration and makeup looks like a blurry constellation.

She wanted a bee inked onto her collarbone, one of those tiny honeybees you find on good tequila bottles. Easily done, and she met the cash requirement. She’s eager, nervous, and breathing in and out in little puffs.

I can’t remember her name, but that’s fine. Customer relations is Eric’s job.

There’s another kid leaning over my glass counter, watching eagerly as I work. “Does it hurt?” he asks. “When the magic happens?”

The bee’s fat yellow thorax wriggles from side to side as it begins to wake, fighting the pressure of my needle, hungry for life.

“It looks like it hurts,” the kid says. I ignore him.

One minute more and—thanks to my peculiar magic—this bee will fly free.

I’m perched on a swivel stool, a wet paper towel in my hand to wipe away ink. It’s too hot in my studio, even with the industrial fans whirling overhead and the door propped wide open. Evening light slants in through the door and the north-facing, floor-to-ceiling window panes that look out onto West Forty-Sixth. It’s muggy, too warm for New York in October, and all of Hell’s Kitchen is wilting, including my client.

“What does it feel like?” the kid demands. He’s leaving greasy fingerprints on the surface of the glass as he strains to get a better look at what I’m doing. I study him out the corner of my eye, wiping sweat off my nose with the back of my wrist before it drips on my customer. He looks like one of the street punks who have taken to running in packs near the cruise terminals, sleeping in old, abandoned cargo containers and panhandling up and down the marina.

He’s skinny and tall, hair dyed an unsettling violet and styled into spikes all over his head. He’s got a silver ring in his septum and more hoops in his ears; his eyelashes are coated with purple mascara to match his hair. Green glitter paint sparkles on his lids. His T-shirt and jeans are torn and dirty, and he’s got a pack of black-market cigarettes rolled into one sleeve against his upper arm.

About the Author

Sarah Remy/Alex Hall is a nonbinary, animal-loving, proud gamer Geek.

Their work can be found in a variety of cool places, including HarperVoyager, EDGE and NineStar Press.

Author Links

Blog/Website| Twitter: @sarahremywrites

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Continue ReadingBOOK BLAST: “Earnest Ink” by Alex Hall