RELEASE BLITZ: “Don’t Date a DILF” by D J Jamison. $10 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!


Book Title: Don’t Date A DILF (Rules We Break, Book 1)

Author: DJ Jamison

Publisher: Must Love Books LLC

Cover Artist: Morningstar Ashley

Release Date: May 25, 2023

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Single dad, teacher/parent, fake dating, small town

Themes: Small town life, family, starting over, bi/pan awakening

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 95 000 words

This is Book 1 in a new series. It does not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK


I have one rule to live by: Don’t Date a DILF.

I’ve seen the consequences of blurring the boundaries between teaching and dating, and I am not about to take that kind of risk.

But I didn’t count on Hunter Rhodes walking into my school. Never expected that the broad-shouldered, stubble-jawed, absolute glory of a man would be such a sweet and caring father. Or that as a seemingly straight man, he might decide he wants me.

If my Nana has her way…I’ll be in love with someone by the end of the school year, but there’s only one man who tempts me.

With her matchmaking becoming overwhelming and half the single women in Granville setting their sights on Hunter, we’re both feeling the pressure. Faking a relationship could get everyone off our backs.

It seems like fun and games for Hunter, but separating pretend feelings from real won’t be so simple for me. And then there’s that rule…

Can I date a DILF without disaster—or will all my fears come true?

Don’t Date a DILF is Book 1 of Rules We Break, a spin-off series from Games We Play, set in the small, quirky town of Granville, where nosy residents meddle in one another’s lives, great friendships are made, and silly innuendos are a way of life.


Clark’s voice filtered in from the hallway.

“Nana, for the last time, I was trying… Yeah, well, maybe I should run all your proposed dates through my friends first if you think Percy Helix was a good choice!”

I smirked at his sass, then had to muffle a laugh when he followed it up with, “No, I’m not being sassy. I’m sorry, Nana.”

Fuck, that was adorable.

Clark was a grown man who had his shit together far more than I ever would, and yet here he was, getting scolded by his grandmother. There was something so sweet and wholesome about that.

He glanced toward the classroom and caught sight of me through the doorway. He held up one finger, in the universal sign to wait a minute.

“We can talk more later, Nana. I have a parent here for a meeting, okay? But I really don’t think another setup is a good idea… Because I don’t. Because it’s uncomfortable!” He groaned theatrically. “Yes, okay, we’ll talk later.”

He lowered the phone and turned toward me.

I winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

He shrugged. “Well, you were at the pub, so…not like you didn’t know already.”

“Your nana feels pretty strongly about setting you up with a date, huh?”


“My mother hassles me every time we talk too,” I said.

“Must be something in the water,” Clark said with a pout.

Still adorable.

“Yeah, I actually lost my cool at work. Yelled at Tucker about how everyone in this town wants me to date. You know what we should do?”


“Go on a date together.” I laughed. “That would shut everyone up.”

Clark’s eyes widened. “I think it would do the opposite.”

“You know what I mean though. Can’t set up a couple of guys who are already dating.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “Genius, right?”

About the Author

DJ Jamison writes romances about everyday life and extraordinary love featuring a variety of queer characters, from gay to bisexual to asexual. DJ grew up in the Midwest in a working-class family, and those influences can be found in her writing through characters coping with real-life problems: money troubles, workplace drama, family conflicts and, of course, falling in love. DJ spent more than a decade in the newspaper industry before chasing her first dream to write fiction. She spent a lifetime reading before that and continues to avidly devour her fellow authors’ books each night. She lives in Kansas with her husband, two sons, one snake, and a sadistic cat named Birdie.

Social Media Links

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Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up | KoFi for bonus content | BookBub


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COVER REVEAL: “Prelude to Decay” by Amy Tasukada”


Book Title: The Yakuza Path: Prelude to

Author: Amy Tasukada

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: Newsletter Serial – The first chapter
goes out to subscribers on June 1

Genres: Thriller, gay romance, suspense

Tropes: organized crime, boss/ secretary, angst

Themes: relationships are hard, thriller, mystery,

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: To be determined

It is a standalone story, but it is best enjoyed as part
of the series

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

FREE monthly Serial of Amy’s latest

Only newsletter subscribers will be able to
read the story.

Exclusive newsletter serial sign-up link:

A dead prostitute. A mysterious meeting. And a
retiring cop set on righting past wrongs…


Kyoto mafia don Nao Murata is enjoying a quiet reign. Now that his boyfriend,
Aki Hisona, has a clean bill of health, they can finally have some much-needed intimate time.
If only a persistent detective wasn’t about to throw a wrench in those plans.

Aki’s ready to fully consummate their relationship, but Nao doesn’t appreciate
his scandalous flirting in the office. Being left alone to deal with one of Nao’s top men, Aki
ends up learning about a secret that puts a crack in Nao’s control.

Amidst worries about whether they’re as compatible between the sheets as
they are on the streets, Nao and Aki are forced to work with the police to cement Nao’s
reign. As the secret begins to unravel, they’re pulled deeper into a treacherous game of cat
and mouse.

Now it’s no longer just their love life they have to fight for…

Prelude to Decay is the seventh book of The Yakuza Path thriller series. If you enjoy gripping
suspense, authentic Japanese traditions, and a healthy dose of gay drama, then you’ll
devour Amy Tasukada’s latest instalment.


About the Author

International best-selling
author Amy Tasukada writes thrilling times of crime, love, and gore. Readers who crave
diverse characters, unique settings, and edge-of-your-seat action will devour her
Yakuza Path series. Readers who seek less blood and more love will swoon over the
Yakuza Path Romance and Would it Be Okay
to Love You?
Series. Amy is an atheist, queer
author who enjoys drinking tea, Japanese street fashion and visual kei music. Her calico cat,
O’Hara, is never far from her side. Amy lives in North Texas, but is always planning her next
trip to Japan.


Author Links

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chapter of an exclusive story sent every month)



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RELEASE BLITZ: “Separate Development” by David Blyth. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!


Book Title: Separate Development

Author and Publisher: David Blyth

Release Date: May 1, 2023

Genre: Contemporary LGBT Fiction/Literary Fiction

Tropes: An Intercontinental Love Story

Themes: LGBT, Bisexual, Interracial, South African, Apartheid, Medical (Doctor)

Heat Rating: 2-3 flames

Length: 120 000 words/420 pages

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


Buy Links Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

An intercontinental love story

Author’s note:

Separate Development is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Many names, places and timelines have been altered to provide anonymity to third parties. Character names do not reflect anyone, living or deceased, whom I have ever known. However, I would like to thank the real-life members of the family portrayed in this book for being part of my life, and for their understanding and acceptance. I recognise that their memories of the events described in the novel may be different from my own. There was never any intention to misrepresent anyone; in fact, I am honoured to have known them.


At twenty-five, recently qualified Dr Jonathan Conner leaves his comfortable life and love in London, taking up a charitable post during the last months of South Africa’s apartheid system. Weeks from a planned visit by his long-standing girlfriend, he falls in love with a young African man in the northern homeland of Venda.

Their passionate, heart-rending love story unfolds against the backdrop of conflict between social tolerances that lag behind political freedoms.
Returning to England after eight years, he’s forced to confront the consequences of his decisions for those left behind in two very different worlds.

Through this story of love’s endurance beyond society’s acceptance and geographical separation, can the enduring power of the human heart overcome adversity?


The stark beauty of Venda’s voluptuous landscape could have replaced many an artist’s requirement for naked models of either sex. Rounded hills, writhing between cleaved valleys, yearned for lustful hands to caress their contours in pleasurable embraces. Admittedly, on that solemn day, it was not a mental image to dwell on. But I was to make the journey more than once.

The last twenty miles were dirt, dust dry, following the undulating curvature of parched hillsides. Rain was a distant memory, the last breath of summer’s bounty, yet portions of verdant green interspersed the struggling rampant growth of a forgotten season. Soon the skies would fill again with heat born clouds, storage towers of sustenance, destined to release daily torrents. Today, the brightest greens picked out pockets of humanity, cultivated patches and plots, tall stands of maize, fringed with bananas and peppered with papayas. Water was available for those who worked hard enough to find it, and the rich African soil rewarded those who took the trouble. These oases were increasing in frequency, many still surrounded by round, thatched, mud-wall huts or rondavels, some supplemented by larger rectangular versions, roofs still often traditional but occasionally replaced by bright or rusty zinc. Tracks worn by years of footfall fed the settlements. Vehicular access was rare, but where it existed, the residences built of brick, though often rendered: similar modern bungalows to mine.

As the frequency of dwellings increased, so did the appearance of structures clearly having other functions. Eventually we reached a broad flat plane. Gone were the patches of green, and in their place, the straggling thorn bushes — which conquered any area where humanity didn’t — had grown to tall spreading trees; all were bare of leaf, yet in the seasons of rain, broad panoplies of shade would provide protection from Capricorn’s sun. The space, ringed with buildings of a relatively modern construction, had occasional notices of printed or hand painted letters attached. Enclosing one side of the quadrangle stood a long dormitory style block of rough plastered walls, patched and peeling paint representing the faded choices of many years, or perhaps revealing the use of colours kindly donated at the time. Windows, placed only a few inches below the rusty corrugated overhang of the roof, in some sections without frame or glass, allowed light yet probably deterred its occupants from external distraction. Three well-worn steps led to broad double doors, also reflecting the indecision or availability of bygone supplies of colour. Only the signage appeared to have received regular maintenance. Bold black lettering, written with skilled hands on a fresh blue base, told me Sarah’s directions had led me to park in front of Ha-nthabalala Secondary School, Established 1972. Headmaster: Mr Joseph Ramanala. The name had a slightly deeper blue background, suggesting it represented the most recent promotion to the post.

About the Author

David Blyth was born in Staffordshire, in the UK. He graduated from Nottingham and Wolverhampton Universities with a BSC.hon and a PGCE. He lived for many years in South Africa, where he witnessed the political and social transformation during and after apartheid.

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

Separate Development, which is in fact, his second novel, was written at his home in the English Midlands. It is due to be published in the spring of 2023.

His first novel, The Scars of Life, 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 hand. It will be published during the summer of 2023.

Social Media Links

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BLOG TOUR: “Peacemaker” by Morgan Brice. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card


Book Title: Peacemaker
Sharps & Springfield #1)

Author: Morgan

Publisher: Darkwind

Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor

Release Date: March 25,

Genre: Steampunk MM romance

Tropes: Secret agents, co-workers to lovers, forced proximity,
hurt/comfort, mistaken identity

Themes: Learning to love again, taking a chance on love

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 249

It is a standalone book and
the first in a new series. It does not
end on a


Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Nook | Kobo

Secret agents, forbidden
love, danger, and magic!


Supernatural Secret Service agents Owen Sharps and Calvin
Springfield meet on the train to their new assignment in St. Louis, and sparks fly between
them. But it’s 1897, and they need to be very careful—falling in love can be dangerous for
men like them.

It’s their first case together, investigating
mysterious disappearances—including the two agents who preceded them. Grim evidence
leads them to look for a darker purpose. Old ghosts haunt the railroad line, zombie rise,
signs point to ritual sacrifice, and they suspect someone is trying to open the gates of

Can Calvin and Owen stop the mayhem, thwart the
vampires, and find true love, or will everything go up in smoke?

Peacemaker is a high-stakes steampunk MM
romance thrill ride filled with found family, paranormal Pinkertons, intrepid reporters,
mysterious disappearances, nefarious land brokers, hellhounds, zombies, vengeful spirits,
dark spells, absinthe magic, a ruthless vampire railroad baron and a love that won’t be

Before Colt and Winchester, there was Sharps
& Springfield!


September 1897

Chapter 1


Owen Sharps chuckled as he read his book on the train to St. Louis. He had been waiting to
get a copy of Dracula, the sensational new book from England, and had found one in a New
Pittsburgh bookstore before heading to the station.

It’s got flair, and I like how splashy Van Helsing is, but it’s obvious Stoker never fought a real

Owen had heard about the book and its growing reputation for being frightening and
violent. So far nothing he’s written compares to being covered in blood in an ice-cold
cemetery at midnight, hammering a stake through a vampire’s heart, and trying not to get
bitten. Then again, maybe I have a skewed perspective.

“Pardon me, is this seat taken?” A drop-dead gorgeous man waited for an answer. He had
raven black hair, bright blue eyes, and plush lips that filled Owen with impure thoughts. The
stranger carried a suitcase and an overcoat, with a newspaper folded under his arm. Owen
took one look and would have booted his granny to the cargo car to free up the seat for the

“It’s all yours.” Owen gave a dismissive wave, tearing his gaze away so he’d quit staring. It
wouldn’t do to drool.

“I think this might be the last open seat on the train.” The man stowed his suitcase and coat,
settling in across from Owen with his newspaper.

Owen couldn’t help giving him the once-over. He figured the man to be slightly shorter than
his own six-foot-two inches, and from the cut of his suit jacket, he had a trim, muscular
build. Owen made a mental note to be sure to get a glimpse of what was likely a prime ass
when they left the train.

“Where are you headed?” Owen thought that a little conversation couldn’t hurt. He wanted
to remember the man’s voice to go with his image on nights when he sought relief alone
with his hand. This fellow would never know he’d been promoted to the lead in Owen’s
secret fantasies. Owen particularly liked the contrast between the man’s dark hair and
athletic body to his own rangy build, blond hair, fair skin, and green eyes.

“St. Louis.” The man returned Owen’s scrutiny with an assessing gaze.

Owen sat up a bit straighter, oddly wanting to make a good impression on this person he was
unlikely to see again. He felt the weight of the man’s inspection, which made him wonder. Is
he a cop? Private investigator? Or maybe…like me?

They were both dressed equally well in suits that were department store quality but not
bespoke. The stranger’s hair was fairly short but more fashionable than military, and he was
clean-shaven. Owen wondered what a hint of dark stubble might do to heighten those high
cheekbones and accentuate the impossibly blue eyes, and he felt himself chub in his pants.

None of that, he admonished silently. It wouldn’t do to raise suspicion. He probably just
wants to make sure I’m not the sort to steal his suitcase when he’s not looking.

“I’m headed there myself,” Owen said. “Business or pleasure?”

The man looked amused at the question but not annoyed, which boded well. “Business.

Owen nodded, surprised that he wanted to continue the conversa- tion instead of returning
to his book. “The same. I’ve heard the food there is good, but I doubt I’ll have time to do any
exploring.” He found himself at ease with the stranger. “Will you be staying in the city, or
going on from there?”

“I’ll meet with my boss, but I spend most of my time traveling,” the fellow replied. “I don’t
get to stay long in any one place.”

So we have that in common too. Makes it unlikely that we might meet up again the next
time I come back to St. Louis. “Me, too. I’m a bit of a rolling stone.”

About the Author

Morgan Brice is the romance
pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male
paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the
happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author
hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more
explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in
her Morgan books, and vice versa.

On the rare occasions Morgan
isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.

Series include
Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more
in these series, plus new series coming soon!

Author Links

Website |
Audible Profile | Amazon profile

Facebook Group | Facebook Page

Pinterest (for Morgan and Gail) | Twitter


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Badlands short story Restless Nights here for free


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BLOG TOUR: “From the Universe to Me” by


Book Title: From the Universe to Me

Author: Scott E. Garrison

Publisher: NineStar Press

Cover Artist: Jaycee DeLorenzo

Release Date: April 11, 2023

Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: friends to lovers, coming of age

Themes: age gap, college, family drama, in the closet, mental illness, new adult, teaching

Length: 59 500 words/220 pages

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

Heat Rating: 3 flames


Buy Links

Publisher | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Learning to accept himself is not the only lesson the universe has planned for him.


Eighteen-year-old Tobias Gavin is struggling to come to terms with his sexuality. For many years, the what-ifs of coming out have swirled around his head, so he has chosen to live a lie to keep from disrupting the “normal” life he has created with his family and friends.

That is until he meets Gareth David the day he enrolls for his first semester as a college student. He feels an immediate connection with Gareth…a connection that pushes Tobias to question the way he has been living his life. When Gareth coincidentally becomes Tobias’s History professor, Tobias is forced to confront his feelings and confront the universe.

Tobias must come to terms with his depression, anxiety, heartbreak, and his sexuality before he can even begin to heal his wounds. He believes that everything happens for a reason, but he learns that some experiences are meant to teach even if they cause heartbreak. Once he comes to terms with himself, he might find his knight in shining armor.

Tobias must learn to trust himself and those around him if he wants to find happiness.


I’m startled out of my thoughts when I hear doors open, but to avoid any more agonizing contact with Anna, I don’t glance over until I hear the deep voice of a man talking to Anna.

I glimpse Anna out of the corner of my eye and notice her entire personality has changed. She appears more alive and filled with energy. She twirls her hair between her pointer and middle fingers, flirting with the man, which goes unnoticed by him. He is standing there exchanging pleasantries with her. When he turns to look in my direction, my heart literally skips a beat.

He is beautiful.

Wow. Drop-dead gorgeous isn’t even the best phrase to describe the man standing before me. The stylish brown hair rising in waves from the top of his head looks natural and void of any hair products, like he rolls out of bed looking like McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy on a daily basis. His light brown skin and dark brown eyes shimmer, reminding me of silky, smooth milk chocolate. Everything with me always goes back to chocolate, which is why I can’t stop looking at him as he stands next to the receptionist’s desk talking to Anna.

He isn’t ridiculously muscular, but his biceps look statuesque underneath his tight plaid button-down shirt. Dark Levi’s accentuate every muscle and curve his lower body has to offer. My mind immediately drifts to what his legs would look like if he set them free with short shorts or even his underwear. What is wrong with me?

Without even moving, he exudes confidence I only wish I could have. My mediocre body isn’t nearly as memorable as the physique standing before me. Anyone would want to talk to him, to be near his gorgeous face…touch his toned body. This man hit the gene-pool lottery when whatever higher being or the masters of the universe made him.

“Hello… Hey…. Is somebody in there?” he asks, waving his hand near my face.

My eyes adjust to his waving hand, and I realize I have been staring at him with an open mouth, looking like a brainless buffoon.

“Uuhhhh…what?!” I say like a blubbering fool.

“I asked if you are here to meet with me,” he responds with the sweetest expression, ignoring my inability to carry a conversation, which makes my cheeks burn red.

“Hahaha… I wish.” I freeze… What the fuck did I say? Oh my god, I could die. I should run out the door and lay down in the street, praying someone will take pity on me and end my suffering. I’m positive I have turned as red as the couches I’m sitting on.

He chuckles and gives me a bright and warm grin, revealing his perfectly whitened teeth. He towers over me, holding out his hand. “My name is Gareth David. I’m Dr. Richard’s teaching assistant. Who are you?”

Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to jump into his arms and put my hand through his radiantly manicured hair skips jauntily through my mind. That is perfectly acceptable for people to do, right?

I grab his hand, applying enough pressure to give an adequate handshake, so I look less like a dope.

When our hands meet, a rush of warmth spreads throughout my entire body. He glances at our hands and back into my eyes, giving me that perfect grin again. I can’t help but wonder if he observed the same jolt of energy when our hands met. The way he is looking at me makes me feel something I can’t put my finger on, but I don’t want the erotic energy to end.

After gaining my composure, I respond, “My name is Tobias Gavin. I’m here to meet with Dr. Richards about setting up my schedule for the fall semester.”

An Adonis-like smile spreads across his face, and I melt again. “Are you a freshman? I haven’t seen you around or in any of my classes.”

I look at him confused. “Didn’t you say you’re her assistant?”

He chuckles. “Teaching assistant. However, I teach my own classes and cover her classes when she is away. I know it seems weird, but Dr. Richards has taught me well. Besides, I’m almost finished with my graduate degree. I turned in my thesis a few weeks ago.”

His voice exhibits pure kindness that sends warmth through by body, helping me relax.

“May I have my hand back?” He laughs.


My body going tense again, I realize I’m still holding his hand. I hesitate for a millisecond—my body wanting our embrace to continue—before letting go of his hand.

“I’m so sorry. I was listening to you talk and forgot to let go.” Kill me. Someone, please hire a ninja assassin to come kill me now.

About the Author

Scott E. Garrison is a debut author, who wants to share new, queer stories with the world. He currently lives in the Oklahoma City, OK area.

Alongside writing, he has a Masters in Library and Information Studies and works as a Librarian for an Oklahoma-based library system. He spends his free time reading, baking, watching movies and TV shows with his husband, and cuddling with his dogs, Jarvis and F.R.I.D.A.Y.

Author Links

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Instagram | TikTok

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Fauxmance in the Falls” by J.E. Birk. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!


Book Title: Fauxmance
in the Falls

Author: J.E. Birk

Publisher: Maple Mountains

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: April 20,

Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance, small town romance

Tropes: Fake relationship, small town, age gap, alpha doctor,

Themes: Redemption, coming out, found families

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: Approx. 92 000
words and 331 pages

It’s the first book in the series
and d
oes not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links – Available in Kindle

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Never date your dream


I’m here to destroy this town. How did I end up in a fake relationship with its hero?

I’ve spent my life proving to my grandpa and dad that I’m
more than just the Lewis family mistake. So when Grandpa sends me to Devon Falls, VT to
take some ridiculous leaf festival to court, I head straight there and get to work.

But Dr. Jack Lancer keeps getting in my way.

He’s everywhere.
Helping me out with my migraines, making me dinner, insisting people be nice to me even
though I’m the enemy. Who is this guy? The next thing I know I’m pretending to be Jack’s
boyfriend to get him out of a bind. I swear he’s putting kindness pills in my food or

Jack thinks he can fix me the same way he fixes everyone
else. But I’m not broken. This podunk town will be when I’m done with it, though. And Jack?
Well, he’s about to learn the meaning of the term “collateral damage.” Because I’ll do
anything to win this case and end this festival.

Even if it means losing something that feels an awful lot like

Fauxmance in the Falls is an age-gap romance featuring a small town full of quirks, a grumpy lawyer and a
charming physician, a fake relationship gone wild, some inappropriate use of a doctor’s
office, and a healthy mix of humor and angst. It stars Benson Lewis, who first appeared in
the book


Benson stands before us, looking as wrecked as I could ever
imagine seeing him. He’s barely standing upright, and there are dark circles surrounding his
sagging eyes. He’s wearing a wrinkled pair of jogging pants and a shirt that looks like he’s
sweated through it, and his facial expression screams of absolute misery. I simultaneously
feel extremely guilty for knocking on his door and extremely glad that I did. “Benson,” I say
softly. “Migraine?”

He nods, immediately wincing at the head motion. And that
tiny little movement is all the cue I need to start taking charge.

“Elijah, I need you to run to the drug store,” I tell him
quietly. I list off a series of items that Benson likely needs.

“Be right back,” Elijah whispers, though I never warned him
about being quiet. He’s far more astute than his grandparents give him credit for. He runs off
down the hall and I step into Benson’s space, examining him with my eyes. “How long?” I

“Since the Thai restaurant.”

Shit. Almost twenty-four hours, then. “Have you taken

“Just aspirin.” He winces at the ray of light peeking around
the door from the hallway. “Don’t have anything else,” he mumbles. I’m going to make sure
we correct that the second he’s well enough for conversation. But right now, all I want to do
is make him feel better.

“Okay,” I tell him gently. “We’ll fix it, Benson. I’ve got you.
You’re not on your own anymore.”

He stares at me, squinting, and I notice his eyes are wet.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he says hoarsely.

I startle slightly. I know Benson well enough by now to
know those probably aren’t words he says often.

I guide him gently into the apartment, which is a small
studio with a double bed in one corner and a combination kitchen/living room taking up
most of the space. The curtains are closed tightly. They’re mostly light-blocking, at least. I
surprise him, I think, when I guide him over to the sofa and help him lay down there. “I’m
going to get you some water and change your sheets,” I whisper. “Have you been able to
keep food down?”

He shakes his head slightly.

“Well, I sent Elijah for applesauce and electrolytes. We’ll
see if we can fix that.” I can feel his eyes track me as I make use of what his small space has
to offer. I find a glass of water and help him sit up long enough to take a few sips. When he
shakes his head at me, I don’t push for him to drink more. I find clean sheets and quickly
make his bed, then grab some sweatpants and a Burlington U Law shirt from his dresser.
“C’mon,” I urge him. “Let’s get you into some more comfortable clothes.”

He holds onto my shoulders as I help him step out of his
pants. I look away to give him as much privacy as possible, but Benson draws my attention
back to him when he says, “this isn’t really how I envisioned you getting in my pants for the
first time.”

The corners of his lips are turned up in a hint of a wry grin,
and my heart speeds up. Has he really had those thoughts too? Now is not the time for that
conversation, unfortunately. “Me either,” I tell him, keeping things light as I help him into the
fresh pants and shirt.

I change the sheets on the bed and get him settled into it
before I dampen a washcloth with cool water. Some migraine patients are sensitive to any
kind of touch when they have episodes like this, but Benson sighs with happiness when I lay
the cloth across his forehead.

I sit down gently on the side of his bed. “When Elijah gets
back we’ll try food and more water,” I tell him. “Get excited for that applesauce.”

Benson grimaces. “I’ll try it,” he promises. “I already feel
better than I did. Thank you, Jack.”

I gently take one of his hands, and when he doesn’t object,
I hold it while I rub my thumb against his palm. “Thank you for what?” I ask. I’m not sure
what I’m being thanked for. Changing someone’s sheets and getting them some water when
they’re ill are about the most basic things you can do for another human.

“No one’s ever really done this before. You know. For me,”
he mutters. “Not lately, anyway.”

“Do you get migraines often?” I ask him.

He sighs. “I used to get them a lot more when I was
younger. I thought they were going away. But lately they’ve been getting worse.”

“Who used to take care of you when you got them?” I

He shrugs into the sheets around him. “I think my nannies
did. Well, some of them anyway. Until they… couldn’t anymore.” Benson grimaces again,
and I decide this isn’t the best time to have this conversation.

“You’re going to be okay,” I tell him. It’s a universal line I’ve
used a million times in my career. Some patients believe it. Some don’t. From Benson’s
expression, I can’t tell where he stands.

“It was worse last night,” he replies. “In the middle of the
night. It was so bad. They’ve gotten worse lately, like I said. I was here, in this bed, and the
pain was so awful I started to wonder if I was going to live through it. And I kept thinking…
kept thinking that I didn’t want to die by myself in a studio apartment. Alone. All by myself.”
He closes his eyes against pain I can’t see, and suddenly I need to be holding more than just
his hand.

“You’re not alone,” I tell him. I lean over farther and graze
his cheek with the fingers of my other hand. It’s a test to see if my touch hurts, but all he
does is lean farther into it. And just like that, I know I’m doing the right thing. “You’re not
alone right now,” I repeat. “And you never have to be alone again. Not if you don’t want to
be. You have me now. Me and Elijah.”

Benson has settled his cheek deep into my hand at this
point. He’s almost nuzzling it. “Not forever,” he mumbles. “Just for now. Just for

About the Author

J.E. Birk was raised in
Vermont and is now adulting in Colorado with intermittent success. She is a long-time lover
of stories, and she writes and reads in worlds where imperfect characters find their happily
ever after. Snag free bonus content and stay up-to-date on J.E. Birk’s news and releases by
signing up for her newsletter.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Sweet as Pie” by Beth Bolden. $20.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!


Book Title: Sweet as

Author and Publisher: Beth

Cover Artist: Morningstar
Ashley Designs

Release Date: April 13,

Genre: Contemporary MM romance

Tropes: Grumpy/sunshine, opposites attract, small town

Themes: Family responsibilities, necessary change, unexpected

Heat Rating: 4

Length: 80 000

It is a standalone


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Universal Link | Amazon US |
Amazon UK


Luca Moretti is grumpy—and he wouldn’t have it any other

Wrangling six—Italian—siblings and the family’s

restaurants would make anyone cranky. But when his mother requests that he save his
aunt’s struggling Italian deli in charming, picturesque Indigo Bay, he has no idea that he’s about to overdose on sweetness.

Luca expected his aunt’s stubbornness—she’s a
Moretti, isn’t she?—and his cousin’s resistance to actual work, but the last thing he expected
is the absolute ball of sunshine known as Oliver Billings.

Oliver loves Indigo Bay. Loves owning his small
artisan bakery, Sweetie Pie’s. Helps nice old ladies cross the street. Even volunteers for the
local Sweethearts Festival.

Sweet isn’t really Luca’s style, or so he thinks. But
when he discovers Oliver can be a little spicy too, his prickly exterior begins to crumble like a
well-baked crust.

If Luca isn’t careful, he’s going to develop a taste for
sweets—and a particular baker’s pie.

And one or two servings will never be


“Ah, they sent the fixer out.” Oliver sounded amused
again. “I can see it. You’re definitely more of a fixer than a baker.”

Luca shrugged. “I run my family’s four restaurants.
They do not typically need fixing.” Don’t be arrogant, don’t be arrogant. “But
Nonna’s Deli here, it is . . .an investment of ours. Not directly under my control. So I’m not
here to order changes but to . . .suggest them. Nicely.”

“Which is how they’ve managed to underperform all
these years,” Oliver said with another of those smirks. They shouldn’t have been so
frustratingly attractive. But Luca felt them deep down, stirring him up in a way he hadn’t

Oliver was definitely a very attractive package, one
he’d love to unwrap.

Would he be as sweet as promised? Or a little salty
too? Maybe even a bit spicy?

“You could say that,” Luca said. “Part of the proposed
changes are aligning the menu more directly with our other restaurants. And that includes
fresh bread, daily. Nonna’s here doesn’t have the staff, the resources, or the equipment to
do this, but you do.”

“I do,” Oliver conceded. “My schedule’s already pretty
packed, but I suppose I could fit you in. French bread? Sourdough bread? Focaccia? Rolls?
Loaves? How many dozen per day?”

Luca liked every part of Oliver he’d seen so far. He
was charming and sweet and undeniably adorable. Then there was how goddamned sexy he
was when he got down to business.

“I’m not sure yet,” Luca said. “In fact, they may not
need any at all. Giana and Enzo have my proposed changes, but they are not required to
accept all of them—or any of them, actually.”

“You must hate that, not being able to actually
impose your control over them.” Oliver said it casually, like a true control-freak business
owner, like he understood.

How did Oliver know how much he hated it? Was it
that obvious? Was it written all over his face that he’d love nothing more than to march
down the street and tell Giana and Enzo exactly what to do?

“Yes,” Luca admitted.

“Nonna’s isn’t just an Italian affectation, is it? Was
there actually a Nonna?” Oliver asked.

“My grandmother.”

“Ah, well, there you go.” Oliver leaned back, grinning.
Luca wanted to chase him, but he stayed on his side of the table, with what he thought was
pretty admirable restraint.

“So why does Enzo dislike you so much?” Luca

“That’s a long story. And I’ve got to tend to these
rolls. If they overproof . . .” Oliver shrugged. “I’m a perfectionist, what can I

“If he supposedly turns against you every chance he
gets, what’s he going to say,” Luca said, deploying the most persuasive smile in his arsenal,
“when he finds out I want to hire you to bake our bread? I need the insider info. Need to be
able to convince him it’s a good idea.”

“It’s not going to help you, and you’re not
going to like it,” Oliver said. “Though, you sorta look like there’s plenty of things you don’t

But I like you. “You’re not wrong.” It was hard to admit it, but there it was. He was particular, okay?
Particular and more than a little arrogant about his particularity.

Maybe it was good Oliver knew that now, even if all
they ever had was a date and a night—though even that was still up in the air.

“We dated,” Oliver said. His watch beeped, and he
stood, just as he’d left Luca speechless for another long moment. “Well,” he amended, with
a cute little shrug. “It was one date. But still. He wanted to continue. I did not. And that’s the

“That wasn’t a very long story,” Luca managed, and
was he trailing after Oliver in his own bakery like a lost puppy looking for his owner? Yes, he
was, a little.

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 has published over forty novels and novellas.

Author Links

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Facebook | Twitter |

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BLOG TOUR: “A Case of Madness (Or the Curious Appearance of Holmes in the Nighttime)” by Yvonne Knop.


Book Title: A Case of
Madness (Or the Curious Appearance of Holmes in the Nighttime)

Author: Yvonne

Publisher: Improbable

Cover Artist: Ksenia

Release Date: March 20,

Genres: Adult Contemporary M/M Rom-Com

Tropes: Opposites attract, Emotional scars,

Themes: Coming out, friendship, mental illness, love

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 82 000 words/272

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


Buy Links

Publisher | Amazon US | Amazon UK

A world-weary Sherlock
Holmes scholar loses his job and his sanity when the great detective materializes in his flat
to help solve a mystery that involves a handsome male stranger. What ensues is a thrilling
adventure in literature, London, and love.


Andrew Thomas just got sacked. He’s permanently drunk.
He’s got cancer. Is inescapably gay. Was hit by a bus. And he’s fallen in love with a stranger
whose life he saved.

As a newly-unemployed Sherlock Holmes scholar, Andrew
knows only Holmes can help him untangle the madness his life has become, but Holmes isn’t
real. Except he absolutely appeared in Andrew’s house, told him he’s in love with a man he
just met…and then in a fit of pique Andrew sent him away.

Sure Holmes is probably a hallucination or a specter or a
ghost, but now Andrew desperately needs his help. So to find the answer to his case and the
man of his dreams, Andrew takes to chasing a fictional character through London with his
very own Watson.


While strolling amid the students and scholars rushing into
the University of London, I ignored the urge to check my pocket watch.

If there was ever a day to dawdle, it was today. The first day
of summer that actually felt like the season it claimed to be. And the day of my personal

It wasn’t a ‘this train will split at the next station and you
just sat down with your meal deal’ disaster, but it was equally inconvenient. After decades of
laboring in academia, I was about to become involuntarily unemployed. Apart from that –
and this might be even more important – I was also going to die.

To delay the confrontation a bit longer, I looked for a
shaded place to smoke and then took long, luxurious drags on my cigarette. A cough
struggled to tear itself free from my chest, but I suppressed it. Not now. Focus.

Few people knew my name or my publications. But some
such people existed – people who were as fascinated by a very specific man as I was, and
who seemed to value my works more than I did. The man I wrote about lived in Baker Street,
and he was partly to blame for my situation. Though I liked to think of myself as a charmingly
anachronistic gentleman, I increasingly felt I was just a dafter in a fine suit who lurked
around public buildings. Instead of engaging in modern life, I was immersed in the world of
Sherlock Holmes and all things Victorian, with the natural effect of many acquaintances
leaving or going extinct. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the company of others; it was that I
struggled in the company of others. And they struggled in the company of me.

You see, the fact that I knew my dearest detective had
appeared on-screen in over two hundred and twenty adaptations did not give me much
hope I would find out what people did for fun. But what of fun? What about achievement?
Holmes is the most filmed novel character of all time – among humans, at least; Dracula has
been filmed even more often. This connection filled me with joy, and I believed it could be
combined in a curious way. Dracula Holmes: he investigates at night because he’s not just a
detective, no – he’s also a vampire. Greedy for blood and knowledge.

I finished my cigarette and stepped from the shadows only
to immediately collide with a young man in the most colorful trainers I’d ever seen. In a split-
second knockout victory, he fell to the ground covered in the flyers he had been holding in
his hand just seconds before.

I bent down immediately to help him. “I’m so sorry,” I said,
quickly picking up his flyers from the pavement. At least those which hadn’t fallen into the
grey puddle right next to us.

“It’s okay,” he said, and he looked at me. His blue eyes
seemed friendly though his gaze was intense.

I quickly looked down again. To my surprise, the flyers
weren’t gig announcements or takeaway adverts. In fact, they were promoting something
very dear to my heart. “I like theater,” I said, handing him back a few of the flyers. “I thought
theater was dead for young people.”

He smiled. “Most young people get run over by perfect

That’s why so few make it to the stage. Anyway…I’m still

That he was. Alive, handsome, and holding a slim stack of
remaining flyers. Slightly crumpled.

“I’m far from perfect,” I remarked, thinking of the trouble I
had caused him.

About the Author

Yvonne is a bi and nonbinary
writer who dedicates their free time to extending the secret Gay Agenda – in part through
their debut novel
A Case of Madness.

Although born and raised in
the north of Germany, Yvonne’s passion for Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Who, their sassy
humor, and aversion to talking on public transport made them suspiciously British from early

As a natural matter of cause
and effect, Yvonne moved to London in 2014 and started to write (a novel for the drawer).
No word was written until 2017 when the sudden question of ‘What if I could talk to
Sherlock Holmes?’ came up to them.

Conducting PhD research in
the world’s most extensive Sherlock Holmes collection, located in Minneapolis, USA, was a
great help for answering that question. The result was not a PhD, but their debut novel
A Case of Madness,
originally written in German and in a bold move translated by the author themselves when
nobody in Germany understood a word they were saying.

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Continue ReadingBLOG TOUR: “A Case of Madness (Or the Curious Appearance of Holmes in the Nighttime)” by Yvonne Knop.