BLOG TOUR: “Ugly Beautiful People” by C J Bedell.


Book Title: Ugly
Beautiful People

Author: CJ Bedell

Publisher: Next Chapter

Cover Artist: Lordan June

Release Date: August 31,

Genres: Adult LGBTQ Thriller
(3 out of 5 point of view characters are bisexual)

Themes: Coming out, Self-acceptance, finding yourself, death, grief,

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 59 000 words/249

The book stands alone, but it
is intended to be the first book in a trilogy.

It ends on a small cliffhanger.
Most of the plot points that happen in Book 1 are wrapped up, though.


Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | B & N | Kobo

Welcome to Crescent Hills
where beauty only runs so deep. Scandal lurks just below the surface behind the
McMansions, designer clothes, and fancy cars. And a death will bring the lies, secrets, and
betrayals to a boil.


Welcome to Crescent Hills, where beauty only runs so
deep. Scandal lurks below the surface behind the McMansions, designer clothes, and fancy
cars. When the town is shaken by the disappearance of journalist Ivy Fields, whispers of
betrayal and intrigue begin to unravel the threads binding its elite residents.

Audrey, haunted by her own past, is determined to
unveil the truth behind Ivy’s disappearance, hoping to find closure she never received.
Amidst this, Marcia grapples with the confines of her seemingly perfect marriage, leading
her down a dangerous path. At the same time, a young Ben navigates the complexities of
love, friendship, and societal expectations. Meanwhile, Cassandra’s life gets disrupted by a
ghost from her past.

As Crescent Hills residents confront their own
dilemmas, the shadow of Ivy’s disappearance looms large. For behind every beautiful
façade, there are secrets yearning to be exposed, and as they say, the past always finds a
way to catch up.


Birds screeched when Audrey opened her eyes. She
yawned, then stretched. Her back hairs stuck up. Audrey might’ve been lying on the seating
of the pontoon boat, but black no longer veiled the sky. Instead, sunlight beamed from the
cloudless sky.

Audrey scanned the boat. Ivy was gone.

Dread filled Audrey’s insides—she couldn’t think of one
logical explanation as to why Ivy would no longer be on the boat. Audrey did the only thing
she could and leaned up against the edge of the boat and peered into the water. No sign of

Something vibrated from her jean’s right pocket and she
whipped out her iPhone. Sawyer was calling her. “Hello?” Audrey asked.

“I wanted to see how you were doing this morning.” Sawyer
chuckled. “And don’t worry. I’m not mad you decided to have a fun night with Ivy. Just glad
Ivy texted me about you staying over at her place. Most people wouldn’t be so courteous.”

“I’m still on the boat,” Audrey blurted. “And Ivy is nowhere
to be found.”

“Come again?”
“We never went back to shore and had

“How much did you drink last night?”
“Just one gin and tonic.”

A folded piece of paper on the driver’s seat of the boat
caught Audrey’s attention, and she rushed over to it. “I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta go,” she said.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

Audrey pressed END before shoving her iPhone back into
her pocket. Then, she unfolded the note and read it.

Dear Audrey,
I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I’ve
been very unhappy

with my life for a long time, and I’ve decided to end my

I know my suicide will probably come as a shock to you.

please always think of me fondly.



Audrey crumbled the note and it fell onto the floor of the
boat. After that, she screamed. Tragedies were supposed to be something that she watched
on the news, not witnessed first- hand. But no explanation was necessary about how cruel
life was and the universe often had a twisted sense of humor.

Tears welled in Audrey’s eyes. Nothing could’ve prepared
her for this moment, because she wanted to cry. And cry. And cry. Ivy couldn’t be dead; she
was only thirty-seven. So, she still had a little more than half her life left.

Ivy was in trouble and Audrey hadn’t seen the signs. So,

Audrey’d never forgive herself for Ivy’s suicide. Audrey had
failed Ivy, and she couldn’t fathom how she’d continue with life.

Audrey’s throat tightened. Perhaps Ivy’s death was only
meant to resemble a suicide and was really murder. There was a reason people always
touted the saying about life being stranger than fiction. Audrey shook her head. Yeah, that
had to have been it. Ivy
have been desperate enough to commit

The only thing Audrey was certain of was that Ivy was
nowhere to be found. And that was why she’d get to the bottom of Ivy’s death. Whether
someone murdered Ivy or Ivy actually committed suicide, there
had to be more to
the story.

About the Author

Chris Bedell is the author of
over a dozen novels. He also graduated with a BA in Creative Writing from Fairleigh
Dickinson University in 2016.

Author Links

Twitter |


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Continue ReadingBLOG TOUR: “Ugly Beautiful People” by C J Bedell.

RELEASE BLITZ: “The Star” by Beth Bolden.


Book Title: The Star
(Charleston Condors Book

Author and Publisher: Beth

Cover Artist: The Book
Brander Boutique

Release Date: June 7,

Genre: Contemporary MM sports romance

Tropes: Best friend’s little brother, bisexual awakening, roommates-to-

Themes: Unconditional support, brotherly/familial love, team-as-found-

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 107 000

It is the first book in a new
series, which is a spinoff of the Miami Piranhas, but reading those is not necessary before
starting this series.



Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK




Tight end Landry Banks knows the score when he signs with
the Charleston Condors in a rebuilding year.

New owner. New coach. New players. New

But one rule hasn’t changed: Don’t hook up with your best friend’s little brother.

Rookie quarterback Riley Flynn knows what it takes to make
it in the NFL. He’s in Charleston to prove himself—to the world and to his teammates, but
mostly to his older brother, who’s never believed he could be a star.

The last thing he expects is for his brother’s best friend
Landry to welcome him with open arms and an offer to become roommates.

Riley’s always believed Landry was straight—but the way
Landry keeps checking him out leaves him suddenly unsure. And Landry’s hot looks certainly
don’t help squash the crush he’s always had on his brother’s best friend.

Revisiting his teenage crush isn’t part of the plan. But as he
and Landry fall into a rhythm of thrilling plays on the field and sizzling tension off it, there’s
no denying their connection.

Riley isn’t willing to trade becoming the next big
NFL superstar for love. But with a man like Landry Banks waiting to catch anything he throws
at him, maybe he can have both.



“How many years do you and Aidan have between
you?” Landry answered Riley’s question by asking one of his own.

Riley leaned against the counter, clearly at home with
a knife in his hand. Even a big shiny chef’s knife. If Landry tried to use that, he’d probably
accidentally cut off a finger. At the very least, an emergency room trip would’ve been in his
future. But not Riley. And more than anything else, that confirmed what Riley had just

They didn’t know each other very well, despite
the fact Aidan had been his best friend forever.

“Almost eight years,” Riley said. “So yeah, when I
wasn’t the annoying little brother anymore, you guys were gone and busy with your own
lives. I get it.” He shot Landry a look. Were his eyes full of heat, or was that just Landry’s
currently overactive imagination? “I guess we’re gonna be making up for lost time

Landry swallowed hard. “Guess we are.”

“Don’t sound like I’m gonna march you down to the
cliff and push you right off,” Riley said, laughing. “I promise it won’t hurt too much to get to
know me.”

Oh, it wouldn’t hurt at all.

What was going to hurt the most was keeping his
hands off.

“Is that what all the boys say to you?” Landry teased
before he could reel the words back.

Riley fluttered his eyelashes. God, he was temptation
incarnate. “The girls, too. I don’t discriminate, baby.”

“Right.” Landry wanted to say, me too, as
long as the guys look like you
, but he didn’t because what if this wasn’t what this was?
What if he was wrong?

Then there was the fact he knew enough about
coming out that it wasn’t necessarily right to do it just because he enjoyed flirting so much
with Riley—and wanted him to keep doing it.

“Though,” Riley said, shooting him another look from
underneath those killer lashes, “I do tend to prefer the boys, so you’re not entirely

Landry swallowed hard. “Is that…is that a thing? Can
that be a thing? A preference even if you’re bisexual?”

“Of course it can. Sexuality is a pretty fluid thing when
it comes down to it. Surely I don’t have to tell you that.” Riley had gone back to chopping
lettuce, like their conversation wasn’t sending shockwaves through Landry.

He means: surely, your brothers explained that to
you. Not that you personally are…well…

But maybe he was. More than he’d ever imagined he

“Logan and Levi are less on the fluid side of
things,” Landry explained.

“Ah yes, your brothers. The ones who would’ve
apparently found me irresistible.” Riley grinned.

They wouldn’t be the only ones.

Landry flushed. The way Riley was looking at him with
those gorgeous eyes, like he could see right through him, down to the place where he was
questioning everything, and unlike Landry, it was like he knew exactly what all this

Even if he couldn’t possibly.

“Don’t tell me that isn’t normal for you,” Landry said,
trying to equal Riley’s casual approach to the subject of just how fucking hot he

But Riley just shrugged. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t
love it if, every once in a while, people saw you as more than a pair of pecs and a head of
blond hair? I kinda liked it better when I was that scrawny kid nobody paid attention

Even if Landry ignored how he looked, giving his looks
the barest attention in the mirror every morning, he knew people still watched him.
Approached him. Felt like they deserved a piece of him.

“Yeah, I get that,” Landry said quietly.

Now, suddenly, it was hard to see Riley as just
his abs and his biceps and those dreamy eyes.



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RELEASE BLITZ: “The Scars of Life” by David Blyth


Book Title: The Scars of

Author and Publisher: David

Cover Artist: David

Release Date: June 1,

Genre: Contemporary Romance/Literary Fiction,

Tropes: Sexual identity, bisexuality, forbidden love

Themes: Psychological twist, mystery, family drama

Trigger Warning:
Supplementary themes involve sexual identity and a teenage incestuous occurrence: neither
are covered in detail, or described graphically, as they were ‘incidents’ rather than
relationships, though they have an impact on the development of the narrative.

Heat Rating: 2 – 3 flames

Length: 95 000 words/362

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

It has a HEA of sorts – it fits
vaguely into the romance genre with a lot of psychological suspense and mystery


Buy Links – Available in Kindle

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Paperback also available from
Barnes and Noble

A troubled mind, a
dysfunctional love story, a psychological twist….


Somerfield, a young journalist for Planet Earth magazine, shares a brief
friendship with the enigmatic Mike Stokes during an assignment in Devon. It leads to a
disruptive fascination and a reluctant complicity in events that evolve from Mike’s tragic

On a journey
where emotions influence his brittle control, Paul pursues the truth. But the truth has many
disguises which disrupt his relationships, his rationality and his life.

A reminder of how fragile the stability of love and trust can
be: a journey that follows fear and doubt as they steer lives into a downward spiral of


(To place in context: Paul (the main character) has just taken a trip over the moors
(Dartmoor, Devon, UK) with Mike (the mysterious second character) who he met just a few
days ago and befriended).

After a few minutes, with the sun transferring energy to
untanned skin, Paul plunged forward to swim towards the opposite bank. Standing up in the
shallow water, his gaze rested on his friend still stretched out below him. Mike’s eyes
remained closed, the gentle rise and fall of breath the only movement in his body. He could
almost have been asleep, but Paul knew he was not, and equally certain of Mike’s awareness
of a close observer, perhaps another gift to them both from the custodian of the paradise
who chose to share it. Paul was neither embarrassed nor aroused by the hedonic posture,
which perfectly balanced the equilibrium, complimenting the setting. He only felt

Time slowed to allow appreciation of the scene. Eventually,
with reluctance lest the spell be broken, Paul spoke again, “You need another cold dip,
mate.” The words were an intrusion. He strained to speak at all. An atmosphere of
expectancy subdued his responses.

Mike remained silent. As he turned his head, his eyes filled
with a remote but compelling vision. Paul was a prisoner to that gaze. The surroundings
drifted out of focus as the man held out a hand in an undeniable gesture of

The sensual element formed a command. With water
lapping knees, he leaned as fingers enclosed one arm in a soft grip. Mike’s eyes held a silent
appeal. It defied refusal. Legs felt weak, folded, he fell forward, his free hand placed near
Mike’s shoulder.

“Mike….” Words came like sobs from his lips, “I … I don’t … I
can’t….” He took shattered breaths, which formed around, “I’m sorry….”

Steady hands cradled his bowed head in a gentle caress.
Wet hair supplemented the tears that unmanned him. The softest touches of Mike’s fingers
smoothed them from his cheeks.

“Get out of the water, Paul.” Words almost whispered, close
to his ear, with barely disguised authority.

Paul responded, unconsciously, climbing onto the

Lines of sweat blurred his eyes. The atmosphere, heavy
with anticipation, directed his senses, regulated his responses. Or, a will projected from a
powerful force far below him, buried in the rock beneath. The body below him appeared
able to harness that power without the need for physical participation. Paul, aware of the
reaction of his own body to so sensual a situation, was powerless to subdue it. His skin
absorbed the life below with every touch. Nerves ignited with every caress. His senses
stimulated by conduction from another’s, as the strained form below him ascended the
pinnacles of climactic rapture. Salt tears and sweat, sun warmed skin against his lips, shared
breaths of confined desire; the noise of life pounding at his ear, the considerate grip of
passion embracing him with a bond of impregnability. All volition was gone.

Suddenly, as though perpetrated by a violent act upon the
man below him, the body became still. Only Mike’s relaxed breathing convinced Paul he was
innocent of such a deed. Time was striving to catch up with its unnatural stagnancy. A stale
memory of desire stained his mind like a contamination of his thoughts; the fruit of an
unguarded crop of passion, which left behind the bitterest aftertaste.

Paul stared at the slope they walked down earlier. Then he
stood, turned, and dived back into the water. He held no immediate aspiration to emerge
from that tranquil medium, doing so only when the pain in his chest forced him to return to
reality. Thrusting his feet towards the bed of the stream, he launched to the surface, gasping
for air. The vision that met his eyes when his violent breaths had calmed was of a dream
shattered. The picture was not as it appeared earlier. The sky painted a tormented brown.
The breathtaking scene, transformed to a bleak and forlorn landscape. Air and water around
him, tainted with pollution.

Turning his eyes across the water, he saw Mike walking up
the slope wearing his shorts, boots held by their laces in one hand, his T-shirt trailing from
the other and dragged along the grass. Swimming to the bank, reaching his clothes, he
fought jeans over a wet body and slipped on his shoes. Grasping his shirt and camera bag, he
stumbled up the slope in his haste. “Mike! Wait!” he called in a weak voice, breathing hard.
The man did not respond to his cry. Catching up as they entered the trees, he reached out to
the man’s shoulder, halting his progress.

Mike turned, a hard, almost pitiless stare, as he looked
deep into Paul’s eyes.

For a moment, Paul was unable to speak. So intense a
visage, it took away what little breath he had left. “You bastard! Don’t walk away from me as
though your dignity’s been bruised.” He dropped his shirt and bag to his feet, and braced
both hands on his knees. Breathing heavily, he waited for some reaction.

“Don’t lecture me about dignity.” The man answered,

He felt a consuming fury growing within. Standing again,
Paul received a harsh look of accusation. As anger conquered instincts, he swung a clenched
fist towards the man’s head. The punch found its target, striking a heavy blow to the jaw.
Mike made no attempt to avoid the impact; blood soon appeared between his lips, trailing
down the side of his chin. He stood motionless, looking into the eyes of his assailant. Paul
remained poised, as though prepared to deliver another attack. Yet, in reality, he’d been
stunned by the recognition of his actions. Mike’s eyes never flinched as he reached towards
the fist, then enclosed it in a strong grip. Paul stood, mentally helpless and physically
defeated, as the man lowered the arm back to his side.

“Paul, let’s go home.” The expression on his face softened
before he turned to walk ahead.

About the Author

David Blyth was born in
Staffordshire, in the UK. He graduated from Nottingham and Wolverhampton

He lived for many years in
South Africa, where he witnessed the political and social transformation during and after

His interests, apart from
writing, include anything that helps him to stay relatively sane.

The Scars of
was written during a two-year overland
exploration of southern, central and east Africa; much was achieved sitting under the shade
of a huge mango tree on the shores of Lake Malawi, always with a beer near at

, which is in fact his second novel,
though published first, was written at his home in the English Midlands.

He is currently working on his

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook Profile | Facebook Author Page


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RELEASE BLITZ: “Playing Dirty” by Beth Bolden.


Book Title: Playing

Author and Publisher: Beth

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: January 12,

Genres: Gay contemporary
sports romance

Tropes: Bisexual awakening,
roommates to lovers

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 41 000

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


Buy Links – Available in Kindle

Universal Link |
Amazon US
| Amazon UK


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

He absolutely does not want Tristan

His complete and total opposite.

His teammate.

His competition.

And his roommate.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

“You ever kiss a guy before, Wade?”

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

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

Why did he even need to know?

Why did it matter so much that the answer be

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

“No,” he said. “No, I haven’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

But he definitely hadn’t been testing Wade

He’d been irresistibly drawn to the man.

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

So Tristan told him the truth.

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

Don’t really was
an understatement.

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

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

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

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

It was playing with fire to ask.

Tristan knew it.

He asked anyway.

“I’m so what, Wade?”

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

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

“It doesn’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

About the Author

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

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

Author Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Twitter |

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Winning the Season” by Beth Bolden. $20.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!


Book Title: Winning the
Piranhas Book 4)

Author and Publisher: Beth

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: December 1,

Genres: Gay contemporary sports romance

Tropes: Second chance romance, bisexual awakening

Length: 100 000

Heat Rating: 4 flames

It is book #4 in the series, but
could be read by itself.


Buy Links

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Asa might be the head
coach, but he’s a man first.


Coach Asa Dawson has fallen wildly in love only twice in his

First with football.

Then with Scott Callaway.

But Scott isn’t just the one who got

He’s the one person—the one man—Asa hoped
might finally show him how all-consuming passion could be.

Instead, fate (and football) intervened and they
never got the chance to explore their attraction. Their friendship ended in ruins, Scott left,
and Asa’s been torn between hating him and loving him for the last seven

Asa doesn’t think he’ll ever see him again, but
when his bad habits catch up to him and he doesn’t have a choice but to accept help, he’s
horrified—and exhilarated—to learn Scott’s been hired to assist him.

With the final stretch of the Piranhas season falling
during the holidays, maybe what Asa and Scott have needed this whole time was a little
Christmas magic to remind them the most important job isn’t to win the season—but to
finally win each other’s hearts.


Scott’s hands were still

It was like being plugged back into a socket, after so
long without electricity, being in Asa’s presence again.

Since he’d gotten the call from Beau, he hadn’t really
let himself consider what it would mean. What it would feel like.

He’d only allowed himself the worry.

Asa was sick; he was struggling and in the goddamn
hospital. Beau had reassured him, more than once, that he’d be fine, that the doctors
weren’t particularly worried, they only wanted him to change his lifestyle.

Sleep more. Eat better. Work less.

That, Beau had said, was where he came in. He didn’t
know anyone else who’d be able to convince Asa to relax the reins.

Scott had agreed, because after how things had gone
seven years ago, how could he not? How could he not be there for Asa when he needed him,
more than anyone else?

But he didn’t tell Beau that he wouldn’t be able to
convince him of jack shit now.

Asa was, understandably, still pissed.

Scott couldn’t even blame him.

He was still pissed at himself.

He’d known the moment he landed in Washington
that it was all wrong, that he’d made a mistake, that instead of trying to be so fucking noble,
he should have just taken Asa’s hand and kissed him and learned how to be

No matter what that meant.

But he’d committed to leading Washington’s program,
and he’d done that, for six years.

Then a year ago, they’d let him go, and he’d gone
home, not to Tennessee, because Asa was still there, and the whole damn state didn’t feel
big enough for the two of them, but back home to Alabama, to the small town he’d lived in
before he’d gone to college.

“You alright?” Beau asked as they lingered at the
front of the conference room, the rest of the coaching staff taking their seats, grumbling all
the way.

It was deep into the season, it was the Monday after
a game, and they were all tired.

Scott remembered exactly how it had felt, on those
Mondays, even though he’d only ever coached in college, never in the NFL.

“Yeah, fine,” Scott said automatically.

He was not fine.

Not even remotely.

He’d thought . . . well, he didn’t know what he’d
thought, exactly. But he hadn’t imagined that he and Asa would meet again like this. He’d
imagined running into him—sorta, kinda, on purpose—on the Tennessee campus. He’d
imagined making things right.

The part of the imagining he’d purposefully forgotten
was that Asa was going to be justifiably pissed at him.

About the Author

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

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

Author Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Twitter |

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Continue ReadingRELEASE BLITZ: “Winning the Season” by Beth Bolden. $20.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

SERIES TOUR: “Hockey Ever After” by Ashlyn Kane & Morgan James. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!


These hockey players have
hard heads, soft hands, and sweet hearts.

They’re not looking for
love, but it’s a long season….



Book Title: Winging It
(Hockey Ever After

Author: Ashlyn Kane &
Morgan James

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: LC

Length: 99 000 words/ 283

Release Date: October 18,

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Grumpy/sunshine, teammates to lovers, friends to lovers,
professional athletes

Themes: Coming out, bisexual awakening, self-acceptance, friendship

Heat Rating: 5 flames

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


Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Kobo | Apple | Google Play

Falling for his teammate
wasn’t in the game plan….


Hockey is Gabe Martin’s life. Dante Baltierra just wants to have some fun on his way to the
Hockey Hall of Fame. Falling for a teammate isn’t in either game plan.

But plans change.

When Gabe gets outed, it turns his careful life upside-
down. The chaos messes with his game and sends his team headlong into a losing streak.
The last person he expects to pull him through it is Dante.

This season isn’t going the way Dante thought it would.
Gabe’s sexuality doesn’t faze him, but his own does. Dante’s always been a “what you see is
what you get” kind of guy, and having to hide his attraction to Gabe sucks. But so does
losing, and his teammate needs him, so he puts in the effort to snap Gabe out of his

He doesn’t mean to fall in love with the guy.

Getting involved with a teammate is a bad idea, but Dante
is shameless, funny, and brilliant at hockey. Gabe can’t resist. Unfortunately, he struggles to
share part of himself that he’s hidden for years, and Dante chafes at hiding their
relationship. Can they find their feet before the ice slips out from under them?


Book Title: Scoring
Position (Hockey Ever After

Author: Ashlyn Kane &
Morgan James

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: LC

Length: 98 000 words/ 285

Release Date: October 18,

Genre: Contemporary M/M romance

Tropes: Opposites attract, roommates to lovers, age gap

Themes: Mental health, self-improvement, family pressure

Heat Rating: 5 flames

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


Buy Links

Amazon US |
Amazon UK

Kobo | Apple | Google Play | B&N

You miss 100 percent of
the shots you don’t take.


Ryan Wright’s new hockey team is a dumpster fire. He expects to lose games—not his heart.

Ryan’s laid-back attitude should be an advantage in
Indianapolis. Even if he doesn’t accomplish much on the ice, he can help his burned-out
teammates off it. And no one needs a friend—or a hug—more than Nico Kirschbaum, the
team’s struggling would-be superstar.

Nico doesn’t appreciate that management traded for
another openly gay player and told them to make friends. Maybe he doesn’t know what his
problem is, but he’ll solve it with hard work, not by bonding with the class clown.

It’s obvious to Ryan that Nico’s lonely, gifted, and cracking
under pressure. No amount of physical practice will fix his mental game. But convincing Nico
to let Ryan help means getting closer than is wise for Ryan’s heart—especially once he
unearths Nico’s sense of humor.

Will Nico and Ryan risk making a pass, or will they keep
missing 100 percent of the shots they don’t take?

Excerpt from WINGING IT

Dante waited in the lobby, curled into a chair that wasn’t
quite big enough to be comfortable. He kept his back to the flow of people and his nose
buried in his phone. Any other night, sure, he would be happy to sign autographs. Tonight…
his brain was going to endlessly replay the scene he’d just walked in on.

How had he not known Gabe was into men? It seemed
obvious now. Of course he never picked women up in bars or brought a girlfriend to a team
event. Dante felt stupid for not noticing.

Somehow Dante had stumbled onto a huge secret.

And now he had to work out what to do about it.

First, though, apparently he was going to think about
Gabe’s broad palm on his partner’s chest. Gabe was a big guy—two inches taller than Dante,
even if Dante was more solidly built. His partner had been clinging to Gabe’s muscular

He should stop thinking about it, but his brain was trying to
fill in details. Where had Gabe’s other hand been? Had it been placed on his partner’s thigh?
Had he been putting his weight on it to steady himself? Or maybe he’d used it to tilt the
man’s face to the right angle.

Dante exhaled sharply. This was really, really not his
business. Dwelling on it would not do him any favors. He needed to pretend everything was
normal. And obsessing about your teammate feeling up some guy—and kissing, can’t forget
the kissing—was not that.

So. Normal. He’d been sexiled by a roommate. That was
fine! It had happened before. Today, actually. He hoped Yorkie was having a better night
than Gabe.

Most importantly, sexiling was normal.

Was it hot in here?

Footsteps jarred him out of his spiral, and he looked up to
see Gabe walking toward him, head down, shoulders hunched. He didn’t exactly have the
look of the freshly laid about him.


Or, like, probably not.

Gabe dropped into the chair across from him. He was
loudly projecting that he would rather stand in front of fifty of Kitty’s slap shots than have
this conversation.

At least they were on even footing in that respect.

Dante put his phone away. “So, uh, sorry for cockblocking
Even if it’s kind of your fault. Who doesn’t
use the Do Not Disturb sign? Why didn’t you tell me to pound rocks when I asked to

Considering the circumstances, he kept a lid on these
criticisms. He could bring them up later, when Gabe didn’t look like he was about to puke all
over the hotel lobby.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be a problem,” Gabe said. He
slumped farther, but Dante thought his shoulders were relaxing too. “Did you strike out or

“Sort of. We passed her ex on the way back to her place
and she made it like ten more feet before she burst into tears. So we stopped at Dairy Queen
for ice cream, and then she went to the bathroom and fixed her makeup and we took a selfie
for her Instagram, and I came back here.”

The color returned to Gabe’s face and he met Dante’s gaze
for the first time since that hideously awkward moment upstairs. “Guess neither of us is
getting laid tonight,” he said, a little tentatively, like he wasn’t sure Dante would

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Deal,” Gabe said. The lines of tension in his face
disappeared under a relieved half smile.

Good. Dante was glad they’d settled that. “Great.” He
yawned. “So can we go upstairs now? I’ve had just enough booze and ice cream to make me

When they got up to the hotel room, Dante said, “I wish
you’d told me you liked guys.” His shoes
thunked dully against the wall as he
kicked them off. “I wouldn’t have tried so hard to hook you up with chicks last season.” Or
last week.

Gabe stared at Dante’s shoes. Then he lined his own up
neatly under the desk. “It’s not something I advertise.”

“No shit.” Dante shimmied out of his jeans.

After a beat, Gabe said, “You’re being really cool about

Dante sat in the desk chair. He had a habit of saying the first
thing that came to mind, and right now that was
Actually, I’m kind of freaking out. He
needed to take his time. “I mean, obviously I’m not mad or upset or whatever.
I’m—accepting? Ugh, that’s a garbage word.” He huffed, frustrated with himself. “Look,
you’re… gay?”

The muscle at the hinge of Gabe’s jaw bunched. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” He drummed the fingers of his left hand on the
desktop, realized he was doing it, and forced himself to stop. “And obviously if you haven’t
told the team, you’re expecting some of them to be assholes. And that sucks. Because as far
as I’m concerned, my reaction? Is, like, a pretty low bar.”

Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not like you
could come in and introduce yourself.”

If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Dante was losing his grip on reality. “Yeah, maybe not. You mind
if I shower now? I stink like dance club.”

“Sure. I’m just gonna….” Gabe picked up the television

The television came on, and a moment later Dante closed
the bathroom door behind him and started the water. Mechanically, he removed his clothes
and stepped under the spray. The hot water sluiced over him, washing away the sweat and
club grime and what had maybe been just a little too much hair gel.

But the image of Gabe kissing another man on the bed in
their hotel room stuck with him, and now, in relative privacy and naked, alone with his
thoughts, Dante was forced to confront the truth of his own semi.

“I did not see this coming,” he muttered as he reached for
his shampoo.

About the Authors

Ashlyn Kane likes to
think she can do it all, but her follow-through often proves her undoing. Her house is as full
of half-finished projects as her writing folder. With the help of her ADHD meds, she gets by.

An early reader and talker, Ashlyn has always had a
flair for language and storytelling. As an eight-year-old, she attended her first writers’
workshop. As a teenager, she won an amateur poetry competition. As an adult, she received
a starred review in
for her novel Fake Dating the Prince. There were quite a few years in the middle there, but who’s counting?

Her hobbies include DIY home decor, container
gardening (no pulling weeds), music, and spending time with her enormous chocolate
lapdog. She is the fortunate wife of a wonderful man, the daughter of two sets of great
parents, and the proud older sister/sister-in-law of the world’s biggest nerds.

Morgan James is a
clueless (older) millennial who’s still trying to figure out what they’ll be when they grow up
and enjoying the journey to get there. Now, with a couple of degrees, a few stints in Europe,
and more than one false start to a career, they eagerly wait to see what’s next. James started
writing fiction before they could spell and wrote their first (unpublished) novel in middle
school. They haven’t stopped writing since. Geek, artist, archer, and fanatic, Morgan tends to
pass their free hours with in imaginary worlds and people on pages and screens—it’s an
addiction. As is their love of coffee and tea. They live in Canada with their massive collection
of unread books, where they are the personal servant of too many four-legged

Author Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook Group | Facebook Profile

Twitter |
Newsletter sign-up | BookBub


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BLOG TOUR: “The Bond” by Xavier Axelson.


Book Title: The Bond
(Elemental Book 1)

Author: Xavier

Publisher: JMS

Release Date: October 1,

Genres: Contemporary M/M Horror/Dark

Tropes: Vampire/stranger comes to town/strange things start to
happen/good versus evil/transformations/magic/suspense/creepy

Themes: Loyalty, forgiveness, obligation, acceptance

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 155 459 words/392

It is Book 1 in the series and
ends with a
HFN. There are unresolved plot points
but it’s not necessarily a cliffhanger.


Buy Links

| Amazon US | Amazon UK

In a small New England
town, three men, each facing unthinkable horrors, must rely on their friendship to destroy
an evil beyond imagination.


Four men are about to discover things are definitely not
what they seem…including themselves. Declan Makavoy, small town farmer and single
father, finds out it’s not just his thumb that’s green. Ivan Soresceau, a local reporter, who
always plays with fire in life and love, is about to discover what it means to be burned.
Chester Silberglocke, the ailing but sage chiropractor, finds his death only the beginning of
an atmospheric afterlife. Vinny Pirelli, the local swimming champ may make waves inside
and outside the pool but has no idea he is the last piece in a dangerous and life-changing
puzzle. Seduction and unearthly occurrences are only the beginning in what proves to be a
race against time as Declan, Ivan, Chester, and Vinny are pitted against a dark force beyond
imagination, in the ultimate battle of good versus evil.


The wind carried the unpleasant smell of decay. In the heat
of summer, the odor is nectar sweet, but in autumn, decay is unexpected. In the summer, it
could be tomatoes left too long on the vine, fresh roadkill or sewage wafting up from the
dank sidewalk grates. Autumn chilled the stench, offered it bite and acid. The hair on my
neck stood on end. I dug my hands deeper into my pockets.

Coming out of the tree-lined path leading to the fields
reminded me of emerging from a dream. Overwrought and graphic, like an illustration in a
bad comic, the scene unfolded block-by-block, piece-by-piece. The fields were barren, except
where remains of gourds and pumpkins jutted from the earth like fevered skulls, things
emerging to the cold dreary light. The distant pine trees lined the border of my property like
sentries sent from a general to contain the scene. Beyond the trees, the forest appeared a
black mass; empty and full at the same time. Perhaps Adam’s body—or Adam
himself—waited, hidden in the woods.

They hadn’t found a body.

Hadn’t found…

A new but not unfamiliar wave of pain welled within my
chest so I thought I’d burst. Adam was dead. Dead…How could he be…?

Chester turned toward me, his eyes wide. He

Antonia sat, facing him. She’d been playing house or school
with her gourd-squash students. Her singsong contrasted with the fouled air, unnerving

Behind her, centered in the field, something either unaware
or unconcerned with our presence was consuming the remaining pumpkins.

Some thing.

“Declan,” Chester breathed, “stay still.”

The stench coming from the field hit like a ton of putrid

“Get her.” I heaved, trying to breathe through the stink. “I
have to get her.”

Chester restrained me with more strength than I thought he
possessed. “She must stay still.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

Just then a huge crow dove and we watched as the creature
reached with a massive clawed paw, grabbed the bird and crushed it. It then stuffed the bird
into its mouth and made horrific bone-sucking sounds of pleasure.

Antonia smiled and called, “Daddy, have you seen the

About the Author

Xavier Axelson is a writer and
columnist living in Los Angeles. Axelson’s work has been featured in various erotic and
horror anthologies including
Best Gay Erotica 2016
Volume 2,
Best Gay Erotica 2015.

Longer written works include
“The Incident”, “Dutch’s Boy”, “The Birches”, “Earthly Concerns”, “Velvet,” and “Lily”.

Author Links

Facebook | Twitter |


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RELEASE BLITZ: “Playing the Player” by Beth Bolden. $20.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway!


Book Title: Playing the Player (Miami Piranhas, Book 2)

Author and Publisher: Beth

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: August 3,

Genres: Gay contemporary
sports romance

Tropes: Fake boyfriend,
bisexual awakening, friends to lovers

Themes: Found family,
trusting yourself, trusting others, finding confidence

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 91 000


Buy Links – Available in Kindle

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK


Center Logan Banks didn’t come to Miami looking for a best

He came for football and for a chance at
freedom—the freedom to live out of the closet.

But after a water main break, he lands an
unexpected roommate, the new Piranhas kicker, Dylan Leonard. Between practices, games,
and too many late nights on the couch, a best friend is exactly what he gets.

When Logan’s past rears its ugly head and
threatens to destroy the freedom he’s hoped for, Dylan becomes more than just a friend. He
becomes a lifeline.

But then their friendship gets incorrectly labeled as
something more, and Dylan shocks Logan by suggesting they play along with a fake

Logan knows it’s off limits to fall in love with Dylan.
He’s supposed to be straight, he’s his best friend, his roommate, and his teammate. But the
closer they grow, and the more he and Dylan fake falling in love, the more real it

The more real Logan wants it to be.

Making a play for love is the biggest risk he’s ever
taken, but he wants it all and he wants it with Dylan.


Dylan’s jaw dropped. “You’ve never seen Star

“Guilty as charged.”

“Well, first, we’re gonna remedy that ASAP,” Dylan
said with relish. “I can’t believe I get to pop your cherry.”

Logan froze, his hand still on the controller. “Uh,” he said.
“Hate to break it to you but that’s been done . . .”

But I could pop yours, that voice that didn’t want
to cooperate, inserted slyly. And now Logan was fucking thinking about it. A dark head,
between his heads, tongue flicking out uncertainly. A hand pressed to the middle of his
chest, as Dylan squirmed on his dick.

Stop. Do not cross Go.

“Your Star Wars cherry, silly,” Dylan said, laughing,
punching him lightly in the arm.

“Is that a thing?” If it was, then Logan wanted it to be Dylan
who did it. Logan wanted him to do all kinds of things.

It was a problem, even though he kept trying to pretend it

“Sure, it can be,” Dylan said, one of those quicksilver grins
lighting up his whole face.

“So why this game?” Logan asked, trying to pluck the game
from Dylan’s fingers, but he was too quick, and pulled it away. “’Cause it’s easy?”

“Well, it’s simpler, sure, but it also requires less hand-eye
coordination,” Dylan said, and Logan shot him a glare. But Dylan only laughed. “We’re being
honest here, dude. Set you on a football field, and you’d destroy most everyone, but with a
video game controller in your hands?”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Logan said with a resigned sigh. He grabbed
for the game again, and Dylan wasn’t quite fast enough this time, and when Logan got ahold
of it, he didn’t let go.

Yanked both it and Dylan over the side of the
couch, and Logan froze as the other guy landed basically in his lap.

He 100% did not mean to freeze. It wasn’t in his nature to

After all, they had a touchy-feely friendship. Logan had never
shied away from touching Dylan and vice versa. It worked for them.

But now he was in his lap.

And he wasn’t moving.

Logan could count every shade of green in Dylan’s eyes as they
stared at each other. His hand hovered right over Dylan’s back. He wanted to push him in,
pull him close, but no matter how touchy-feely they were, they weren’t in the
habit of embracing. Not like this.

Not with Dylan straddling him, not only wearing a pair of
athletic shorts each.

Then Dylan reached out, pressing a palm against Logan’s chest.
Right where his rose tattoo sat, right over his heart. Not pushing him away. Not using him to
get up. Just resting it there.

Like he couldn’t help it, he just wanted to touch.

You’re wrong. He doesn’t want to. Not like that. Not like
you want him to.

Logan opened his mouth to make a joke, but his brain was
empty, and nothing came out.

Dylan leaned forward a fraction. Licked his lips.

There was something soft and hazy and affectionate in his
gaze. Something curious.

And then he spoke. “Guess,” he said, voice low, “that your
reflexes really do suck, Banks.”

About the Author

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

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

Author Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Twitter |

Instagram | Newsletter Sign-


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