SERIES TOUR: “The Alphabet of Desire” by Colette Davison

SERIES TOUR

Series Title: The
Alphabet of Desire

Book Title: A is for Aftercare,
B is for Beg, C is for Consent

Author: Colette
Davison

Cover Artist: Sleepy Fox
Studio

Release Dates: June 29, July
13, July 27

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: They all have age-gap relationships and BDSM elements.

Book 1 has a boss/employee
relationship.

Book 2 is MMM, friends to
lovers, and Daddy kink.

Book 3 is single dad and
Daddy kink.

Themes: Follow your heart, sometimes it’s worth taking
chances

Heat Rating: 5 flames

BOOK 1

A famous author, a new
job, and a party with a difference. Are these the makings of a perfect
romance?

Blurb

Archie

Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to end up working
for my #1 favourite author. Nor did I expect him to love being called ‘Sir’. An invite to an
adult party changes everything.
Will Hamish order
me to my knees or throw me out?

Hamish

The moment I first set eyes on Archie Morris, he becomes
my secret muse. Words I’ve been struggling to write pour out of me. He’s my PA and
twenty-three years my junior, none of that matters when he shows up at my private party,
ready to play. One night leads to so much more. Will Archie see beyond our differences to
what I’m offering him—my heart?

A is for Aftercare is the story of two men falling in love,
while they explore their desires together, which include blindfolds, sensory play, and lots of
cuddles. It’s the first of three steamy, low angst novels, which follow each of the ABC triplets
as they find love. You can read Blake and Corey’s stories in B is for Beg and C is for
Comfort.

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BOOK 2

A photographer, a rope
artist, and a model. Can three create a beautiful romance?

Blurb

Blake

Apparently I’m a disaster—no steady job, brothers who
have to help me manage my money, and I’m constantly late. When two very different men
command me to be theirs, how do I pick? Or can I make them see I’ve enough love for both
of them.

Gabe

Cal, my best friend and a photographer, introduces me to
Blake, a model. From there all bets are off as Blake’s attraction to both of us makes me see
Cal in a whole new light. But will Cal and I be able to step beyond friendship into love when
we both like being in charge?

Calvin

Friends for several years, Gabe and I both like to be in
control. When Blake steps in between us, my feelings are anything but rivalry. With the
chance to have something amazing with these two men, I must now show Gabe with Blake’s
help that friendship can lead to love.

B is for Beg is the story of three men discovering that
shibari, blindfolds, sexy lingerie, and rules can change everything. It’s the second of three
steamy, low angst novels, which follow each of the ABC triplets as they find love. You can
read Archie and Corey’s stories in A is for Aftercare and C is for Comfort.

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Unlimited

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BOOK 3

A single dad, a doctor,
and a one-night-stand. Is there room in their lives and hearts for one
another?

Blurb

Corey

Stress is my middle name. I’m a single dad and a newly
qualified teacher, so it’s hard to find time for myself. What I didn’t expect from an adult
party is a man who allows me to relax fully. What starts as a hook-up becomes so much
more, but is a ready made family a step too far for Spence?

Spence

Working crazy shifts at the hospital, I don’t have much time
for romance. Meeting Corey, the beautiful boy who’s happy to call me Daddy, changes
everything. Only it’s not just his heart I have to win over but his five-year-old daughter’s too.
How hard can it be?

C is for Comfort the story of two men learning that life is
about more than work and that cuddling can fix everything. It’s the third of three steamy,
low angst novels, which follow each of the ABC triplets as they find love. You can read Archie
and Blake’s stories in A is for Aftercare and B is for Beg.

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Unlimited

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Excerpt from A is for Aftercare

“You’re struggling to write?” he asks.

He picks up a glass of water and drinks from it. Captivated, I admire the way his full lips
curve around the rim.

“Aye.”

“It’s the book that’s due in a month?”

“Aye.” I groan. “I’ll manage it.”

“How much have you written?”

I shrug. “Not enough. I’m just not feeling the words. I’m sick of Orion. I’d put a bullet
through his head if my publisher let me.” I have no clue why I’m telling him any of this.

“If it helps, I really like Orion.”

I snort. “I’m paying you to be my PA, not kiss my arse.” Not that I have any reason to
disbelieve his love of my character. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be averse to his lips being
pressed against that part of my body—or anywhere else for that matter. I stuff some of the
avocado toast into my mouth. It tastes a bit too good.

“I’m not.” The blush across his cheeks deepens to scarlet. “I’m being honest. I know he’s a
bit surly, but he’s got a kind heart, really.”

I huff. “He’s a crotchety arsehole.”

Archie laughs. The sound reverberates through my body, almost making me want to laugh
along with him. Part of the reason I hate Orion is that he’s too much like me.

“But I’m stuck with him for this book and another one. At least.”

“At least?”

“My contract runs out after that, but knowing my publisher, I’m sure they’ll try to sweet talk
me into signing up to write another three books about the grumpy fucker.”

Archie smothers another laugh behind his hand.

“What?” I demand.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of man who does anything he doesn’t want to.”

I narrow my eyes. What else does he think he’s figured out about me?

“I’m not, but this is different.”

Archie tilts his head. “How?”

I open and close my mouth a couple of times, which probably makes me look like a fish
drowning in air. “My publisher calls the shots,” I say eventually. Self-publishing under a pen
name gives me the creative freedom I crave. Not that I’m going to mention that to my sexy
PA.

“Surely they’ll understand if you tell them you’ve run out of steam? Especially if you pitch
them a fantastic new idea.”

I shake my head.

“I’ve read all your books, sir. You’ve written so many amazing characters. I’m
sure you could come up with a concept that would blow Orion King out of the water.”

I stare at the food on my plate.

“If you could write anything, what would it be?”

Aside from hot, passionate, if unrealistic stories of men falling in love? “I don’t know.”

“You should think about it,” Archie says as if it’s as easy as calling lightning from the sky. “But
right now, you need to find a way to fall back in love with Orion enough to finish this book
and write another.”

“I know,” I grumble.

“Is there anything I can do to help the words flow?” Archie asks.

I jerk my head back. “What?”

That’s not even remotely part of his job description. Then again, it’s only halfway through
his first day, and he’s already made more of a positive impact on me than any of his
predecessors.

“Can I help?”

Be Lee Lawson’s muse. Lie naked on my bed while I write about how glorious you
are.

About the Author

Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An
evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding.
She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two
beautiful children and her writing.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook Page | Facebook Group: Colette’s
Cosy Corner

BookBub | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram:
@colettedavison

Mailing List | Newsletter Sign-Up

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BOOK BLAST: “How to Bed a Millionaire” by Dieter Moitzi

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: How to Bed a Millionaire

Author: Dieter Moitzi

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Dieter Moitzi

Release Date: July 7, 2021

Genre: Light M/M Summer Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, millionaire and poor student, summer romance

Themes: romance, love, comedy, summer, French Riviera, ritzy

Heat Rating: 1-2 flames

Length: 70 309 words/ 247 pages

This is book #1 of the Light Hearts Trilogy 

 Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Kobo

A sunny-funny summer romance, first in the Light Hearts Trilogy

Blurb

Take a scrawny French student and a hunky housekeeper; put them in a swanky summer villa; add a pink car named Sean and a ruggedly handsome delivery man—and voilà a sunny-funny summer romance.

Twenty-year-old Trevor is overjoyed. An Australian millionaire offers him the summer job of his dreams: to catalog the library of his summer house in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat—one of the ritziest and most exclusive spots on the Côte d’Azur.

What unnerves him, however, is the presence of a young housekeeper who turns out to be as drop-dead gorgeous as he is stilted, obnoxious, and conspicuously straight. Of course, Trevor’s quirky sass and light-hearted banter soon create an atmosphere of crackling tension between the two men.

What if the housekeeper isn’t as straight as Trevor thinks? What if Trevor is just the kind of person that housekeeper has been looking for all his life? And what if things aren’t exactly what they seem?

Excerpt 

Here’s the thing: Dirk is a slut. 

No, scratch that. Dirk is the slut. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m saying this fondly. But it’s a fact, and he owns it. He thinks monogamy is the name of a board game.

We hooked up two years ago, you see. That’s when I learned about Dirk being a slut. The hard way. To call ours a brief affair would be an understatement. To say I was crushed when it was over before it had even begun, another. That’s because I’m a hopeless romantic. Meaning that after our first shag—which incidentally turned out to be our last one—I was ready to publish the banns.

Dirk, not so much.

To his defense, he never hides his sluttiness. He’s even very outspoken about it. Gives you the proper warning right from the start. I remember, when we had both climaxed and were mopping up the evidence glistening on our bodies, he told me casually, “Phew—that was great, Tyler!”

“Trevor.”

“Oh. Right. Trevor. By the way—don’t fall in love with me.”

My reaction consisted of… a great blank. I was speechless. Probably because falling in love was exactly what I’d had in mind.

Oblivious to my emotional turmoil, he went on to explain. “I don’t do long-term relationships. Why, I don’t even do short-term relationships. I normally just, you know, fuck. No strings attached, no follow-ups included.”

I nodded like a robot.

“But I think I like you. We should stay friends, shouldn’t we?”

We shook hands that had shaken other body parts some mere minutes ago, and I left with a poker face. Only back in my tiny, tiny flat did I burst into tears.

Eventually, I got over him. It took me a week, to be precise. Not because I have a heart of stone, but because Dirk made sure my suffering wouldn’t last longer. He did so by calling me several times over the next few days, initiating his habit of informing me in crudest detail about his latest conquests.

After a week, I stated, “You’re such a slut, Dirk.”

“Why, how sweet of you!” he replied, sincerely flattered.

He single-handedly cured me of my romantic streak, then and there. I’m still looking for Mr. Darcy, all right. You don’t change so radically overnight, or overfuck as it were. But I’ve stopped fancying myself in love each time I get laid. Although Dirk thinks otherwise, that happens occasionally. Even blind chickens pick up a grain from time to time, as they say.

Dirk is German, by the way. And he has this annoyingly attractive all-German boy thing going. You know, thick blond hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones, mischievous smile. He’s tall and well built, with bulging muscles and no body fat to speak of. He doesn’t even work out, which, I mean, how unjust can life get? Oh, he’s also very well endowed, if memory serves me. 

In other words, he’s a hung hunk. The guy who has it all and enjoys it, as he should.

What about me, you ask? Good question. I’m just your average dude. No one would describe me as hunky. For starters, I’m rather on the slender side. No, make that thin. Zero muscles embellishing my frame, no broad shoulders, just scrawniness wherever you look. I repeat, I do get laid. Some guys out there have a skinny kink, and what can I say? Lucky me.

My best features? Let me think. My eyes, maybe. They’re emerald green and come as a surprise because my hair is dark and my complexion, too. Cappuccino-ish. Americans with their fondness for all things binary and clear-cut would call me black. My mom is American, and darker than I, so I should know. Namely because she calls me black, but hey, that’s Mom.

Here in Europe I’d pass as a Mediterranean guy if it weren’t for the thick lips—“Perfect suck-me-off-lips” according to Dirk—and the very distinctive frizzy hair. The lips are okay. Whether they’re particularly suited for blowjobs or Dirk just had one of his racist moments isn’t for me to say. Never had any complaints in the oral department if you want the truth.

And my hair, well, I just love it the way it is. Hardly ever cut it, going for the good, ole Afro style. You can do so many cool things with a nice Afro, especially now guys have discovered that a man-bun is a thing.

Oh, talking about features I like about myself—let’s not forget my bum. The best thing I inherited from my mom’s far-away African ancestors, it’s firm and bouncy. Wet dreams material for gays with a bum fixation. This may come as a surprise to you, but they’re not in short supply.

Back to Dirk if you will. He’s great fun to have around: bitchy, lively, not a care in the world. Plus, he’s fiercely loyal to his friends. In a way. His way. That’s why he suggested me as his replacement for the Kinner job as soon as he had decided he’d prefer to spend his summer months with his aunt in Greece. That freaky woman has just invested her latest inheritance to buy a house somewhere on the Peloponnese coast and invited him to join her. 

“I simply can’t say no,” he told me. “Think of the beautiful landscapes. And the sea. And the food.”

“Think of the beautiful Greek guys,” I muttered.

“Exactly,” he replied. “So, will you go and meet that lady for the interview? Please?”

“All right. I’ll do it.”

I don’t know what shaky lie he told Mademoiselle Destrelle, and I’m not sure I want to know. I’m just glad she didn’t bring it up because there’s a chance Dirk’s mother is supposed to be fatally ill again. So far, she has recovered at least a dozen times from ailments as far-fetched as jugular fever and acute fartinosis. I kid you not. Try to keep a straight face when something like that comes up in a job interview!

About the Author 

Born in the early 70s, I grew up in a little village in Austria. At the age of 18, I moved to Vienna to get my master’s degree in Political Sciences, French, and Spanish. Today, I’m living in Paris, France, with my boyfriend and work as a graphic designer. 

In my spare time, I write, read, cook fancy recipes, take photos, and as often as I can, I travel (Italy, Portugal, Morocco, Egypt, the UK, and many more places). My literary tastes are eclectic, ranging from fantasy, murder mysteries, gay romances to dystopian novels, but I won’t say no to poetry or a history book either. I’m more a hoodie/jeans/sneakers kind of guy than a suit-and-tie chap. 

So far, I’ve published two short-story collections as well as four poetry collections. My first murder mystery novel “The Stuffed Coffin” has been released on January 6, 2019 and is also available in German and French. The French version has won the prestigious French Gay Murder Mystery Award 2019 (Prix du roman policier – Prix du roman gay 2019). My second novel “Till Death Do Us Part” was released on June 24, 2020. You can also find me on Rainbow Book Reviews, where I write book reviews under the pseudonym of ParisDude (for French reviews, have a look at my review site livresgay.fr). 

Author Links

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BOOK BLAST: “The Dead Don’t Lie” by Annie Russo. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included.

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Dead Don’t Lie

Author: Anne Russo

Publisher: JMS Books 

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs 

Release Date: 3/13/21

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, Suspense, Thriller, Action-Adventure

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Love, Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Found Families

Themes: Death & Dying, Betrayal, Love & Sacrifice, Family, Guilt & Loss 

Heat Rating: 4 flames  

Length: 75 000 words/250 pages

This is the first book in a series and features an unresolved ending/cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |   Apple

Barnes & Noble  |  Bookstrand  |  Google Play

Kobo  |  Scribd  |  Smashwords

Blurb

While young doctor Adam Morrow resigns himself to an uninformed existence, world-weary assassin Ian Abbott struggles with a life he never asked for. When the two strangers meet by chance, the attraction is immediate. And deadly, as Adam walks in on Ian in the middle of a hit.

The situation spirals out of control once Ian discovers he and Adam share a connection far more profound than either imagined. Shocked by the discovery, Ian makes the hasty decision to kidnap him.

Overnight Adam is torn from his promising career and a family who believes him dead. Things go from bad to worse when he finds himself reunited with a mother he never knew who is now head of a covert and shadowy group of killers for hire. Forced into joining their ranks, with Ian as his reluctant trainer and handler, Adam is given a series of impossible tasks to complete.

To survive, he must fight with everything he has to keep his life, his sanity, and his very soul from being swept up in a violent and chaotic world even as he battles his unwanted and complicated feelings for Ian.

For his part, Ian, a man with dark secrets of his own, has a past he isn’t ready to share with Adam even as the other man worms into his life in more ways than one. The two grow closer and lines blur — between good and evil, friend or foe, enemy or lover. But something, or someone, plots against them, determined to do everything in their power to keep them apart. Even if it means destroying them both.

Trigger Warning: This story contains a brief scene of sexual assault and features an unresolved ending/cliffhanger.

Excerpt 

Assignment completed, Ian glanced down at his coat, noticing a few questionable stains even black couldn’t hide. Sighing, he stepped into the adjacent bathroom for a quick wash. He was cleaning off the excess blood splatter when he heard the door open. He stopped and listened as a curious voice called out, “Hello?”

Ian reached for his handgun, quiet as he slid it into his hand. He edged forward, waiting for his visitor to discover Mr. Mallory was no longer among the living. Ian didn’t have long to wait.

“Jesus Christ,” the visitor swore, taking several steps backward where Ian waited in the shadows. Once he was close enough, Ian pressed the gun’s muzzle into the back of his head, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Even in the darkened room, Ian knew he looked familiar. “Turn around.”

Slowly, the man turned toward him, shaking. Ian didn’t miss the shock of recognition when he saw who held him at gunpoint.

“Yeah, I remember you too. This is unfortunate,” Ian remarked and meant it. He didn’t relish putting a bullet right between those pretty eyes, but he’d seen his face. Not once. But twice now. And, unfortunately, he’d have to die for it.

“Wait,” the young doctor urged, his hands in the air. “You don’t have to shoot me.”

No crying. No begging. A statement. The doctor even met Ian’s eye when he said it. Ian couldn’t help but admire this guy’s guts. A shame he had to kill him, but he didn’t have a choice. His finger twitched on the trigger.

“I’m afraid I do,” Ian answered, glancing at his name tag. “Dr. Adam Morrow,” he whispered under his breath, the name hitting like a sucker punch to the gut. “Your name is Adam Morrow?”

“Yeah, that’s my — why?”

Ian wasn’t listening, rendered speechless as he studied the man. Pieces were clicking together in a hail of memories, memories he fought for years to keep hidden. Now they came rising to the surface one by one, swifter than he could recall them. All tied to the image of a child’s face. A child whose cheerful grin and name, Adam Morrow, had haunted him for the last fourteen years.

Ian snapped into the present. He charged forth, seizing him by the arm. Adam tried to shake him off as he propelled him toward the windows. Meager light from outside street lamps was enough to spy the lingering traces of that boy. One whose existence itself had been a terrible mystery he’d never wanted to delve too deep into, terrified of the answer awaiting him on the other side.

“Look at me!” he ordered, pressing the muzzle under Adam’s chin.

Adam hesitated but didn’t have much say so with a gun buried in his throat. One glance and the truth slammed into Ian like a bolt of lightning. A sweeping recognition. His eyes told him the entire story in an instant. They were remarkable, dark green, and flecked with gold, memorable —her eyes. There was no way he’d be able to kill him. Not now. The implications of his discovery growing as they sized up the other, each of them unsure what to do next.

“Who the hell are you?” Adam asked, low and shaky.

“Who the hell are you?” Ian countered.

About the Author

Anne makes her home in Connecticut with her wonderful and ever-so-patient partner. A lifelong reader, writer, and curious student, Anne hopes to create exciting multi-dimensional characters and worlds but with a queer sensibility. The Dead Don’t Lie is the first book in the Dead Generations series and her first novel.

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Continue Reading BOOK BLAST: “The Dead Don’t Lie” by Annie Russo. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included.

BOOK BLAST: “Strapped for Cash” by K.L. Heirs. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included.

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Strapped For Cash

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Stormy Night Publications

Cover Artist: Korey Mae Johnson

Genres: Contemporary BDSM MM Mafia Romance

Tropes: Co-workers to Lovers, Sex Before Love, Master and Slave, D/S

Themes: Betrayal and Revenge, Never Know Who Your Real Friends Are

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 107 000 words/414 pages

It is a standalone book, but the author recommends the others since this is a prequel

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

After the Luchesi mafia family betrays him, assassin Mickey Tamerlane joins with gangster Boss Cold to seek revenge. But as they maneuver to take out their enemies and claim control over the city’s underworld, Mickey finds himself distracted by the newest member of Cold’s crew.

Cocky and handsome, Roger Lorre pushes Mickey’s buttons until Mickey pushes back hard.

Hard enough to hurt.

But no matter how well-used and sore he leaves Roger, once isn’t going to be enough for either of them.

Not even close.

Publisher’s Note: Strapped for Cash is a prequel to Cold Hard Cash and Hard Earned Cash. It includes spankings and rough, intense sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Excerpt

“Don Luchesi is dead.”

“How?” Mickey blurted out.

“Murdered in his very own home,” Cold replied. “I have been waiting years for the old man to kill himself with a heart attack, but someone else decided to speed his demise along. Though I am grateful, this means that certain plans are going to be put into action much sooner than I expected.”

“The city,” Crybaby said, her eyes wide. “We’re takin’ it. We’re gonna do it.”

“Yes,” Cold confirmed. “With your help, my dear Gentlemen, the city is finally going to be ours.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jules cheered.

“Who killed the Don?” Duncan asked quietly.

“I do not know.” Cold seemed a little annoyed at that fact. “But that will actually end up working to our advantage.”

“How?”

“Because if I don’t know, it means the Luchesis don’t know.” Cold leaned forward, his usually calm face lit up with excitement. “The most likely suspects are his three sons, Cristian, Luigi, and Matteo. The Don had yet to name an heir, and there will most certainly be a struggle for power.”

“The ring,” Mickey recalled. “He didn’t pass on that stupid ring.”

“Precisely,” Cold said. “Matteo was favored to take his father’s place, but his brothers are hungry for it, too. This also works to our advantage.”

“What do we do?” Crybaby asked eagerly. “Kill ‘em?”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but no,” Cold drawled. “They’re about to do their own killing, and we’re going to help them right along.” He looked to Mickey. “Do you remember when you were so kind as to discover Tony Luchesi’s nasty theft?”

“Yeah,” Mickey replied. “What about it?”

“Well, it turns out he was stealing that money to help fund Cristian’s future claim to the throne.” Cold pursed his lips. “Such a shame.”

“The bar… it was Luigi’s, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Cold confirmed. “Piece by piece, we’re going to turn the three brothers against one another. The family will split apart. Everyone will try to pick a side, and the three darling siblings will each be attempting to make the best case for themselves while valiantly trying to murder the others.”

“Chaos,” Alistair said with a knowing nod. “It’s going to be total and complete chaos.”

“You knew this was going to happen,” Mickey accused. “You knew the Don hadn’t picked an heir and was going to die without one.”

“I knew he was arrogant enough to think he wasn’t going to die anytime soon and foolish enough not to listen to his doctors,” Cold said. “The chances of him dying prematurely without settling his affairs was very likely. I had planned to use his death to propel our takeover of the city. I did not expect, however, for him to be murdered.”

“I call that a fuckin’ bonus.” Jules laughed. “Them stupid ass brothers are gonna be at each other’s fuckin’ throats thinkin’ one of them killed Daddy.”

“So.” Jerry perked up. “What is our first move, Monsieur Cold? What would you have us do?”

“Everything we need is right here under this roof,” Cold replied, offering a coy smile.

“You know we’re in a gay bar, right?” Duncan asked in a loud whisper.

“Yes.” Cold looked irritated. “There is a young man who works here at night as a dancer. He goes by the name ‘Galavant.’ He also washes dishes over at Ragazzi’s.”

“How is a dishwasher gonna help?”

“That restaurant is the Luchesi’s big honey pot,” Jules replied, eyeing Duncan until he cowered. “Galavant is our fuckin’ way in. Payroll for all the drugs, brothels, and illegal type businesses gets banked there.”

“How much?” Mickey asked.

“Millions,” Cold replied, looking very pleased with himself. “The Luchesis are arrogant enough to believe no one would dare steal from them. That arrogance is going to be their undoing. First, we take their money. Next, we’re going to take their drugs. The bouncer here, Reggie? His mother is a maid at one of the hotels the Luchesis run as a brothel. They use the basement there to prepare their product before distribution.”

“So, we’re gonna take their drugs?” Pym perked up.

“No.”

Pym pouted and sank back down in his chair.

“We’re going to tip off the police to the location and allow them to have the glory of the biggest drug bust this city has ever seen. It’s a little gift to our friend Officer Carville for his very timely payments. He’ll look so fetching on the front page. Might even be chief one day. We’re also going to make sure the police’s anonymous source is identified as a member of the Luchesi family.”

“We take out the money, the drugs, okay, but what about the judges? All the politicians?” Crybaby frowned. “We don’t own any of them. We barely own any cops.”

“Never fear,” Cold soothed. “Once the blood starts filling the streets, they’ll come to us. They won’t have a choice. We’re going to be their safe harbor from the storm, you see. They won’t care who’s in charge as long as peace is established. And if not… well.” He smirked slyly. “I have other ways.”

“Okay.” Mickey grinned. “So, when do we start?”

“Soon. You, Jules, and our newest member will be going.” Cold waved to Alistair.

Alistair left his perch on the desk to open the door, gesturing for someone to come in.

Mickey turned to see who it was, and he couldn’t hide his shock.

That son of a bitch…

It was the crazy guy from the gas station.

“This is Roger Lorre,” Cold said. “He is a talented little thief and an expert safecracker. He will be accompanying you to Ragazzi’s. Say hello, Mr. Lorre.”

“Hello, boys,” Roger said, his eyes immediately focusing on Mickey. “Well, hi there. Long time, no see.”

Mickey gritted his teeth.

Cold glanced between them. “Am I to assume you’ve already met Mickey Tamerlane then?”

“Mickey, huh?” Roger grinned crookedly at him, whistling low. “Mm, and aren’t you just so fine.”

About the Author

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, she worked in the death industry for nearly a decade. Her first love was always telling stories, and she has been writing for over twenty years, penning her very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but she never gave up.

Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

Author Links

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Matched by My Rival” by DJ Jamison. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Matched By My Rival

Author: DJ
Jamison

Publisher: DJ
Jamison

Cover Artist: Cate
Ashwood

Release Date: July 8,
2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, college jocks, online love match,
secret/forbidden love

Themes: Building a new dream, following your heart,
forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4
flames

Length: 75 000
words

It is part of a series (Thrust
Into Love) but can be read as a stand alone.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link |
Amazon US | Amazon UK

Simon Prentiss: Ex-football
star, bitter rival, and…falling for the enemy?

Blurb
I hate my teammate, Parker Reed.
I hate that he makes me work so hard for my
position on the field.

Hate how he always smiles. How easily he shows
me up when I’m injured.


Most of all, I hate that he made me lose my
temper.


Next thing I know, football is gone.
My scholarship is gone.
I’m nearly gone, too.

With help, I manage to stay in school for my final
semester.

At least without football, I can explore a new side
to myself.

See where my attraction to guys takes me without
fear of it affecting my future.


I didn’t see it coming. The cosmic
joke.

The sweet, patient guy on the hookup
app?

The one who makes me burn with the desire to
have him?


Yeah, it’s Parker.

Our chemistry is off the charts, no matter how
much I resent him.

Holding a grudge against him is
impossible.

But when he wants to walk away from everything I
lost, can I accept it?


If I don’t, I’ll lose him too–and that can’t
happen.

Because I don’t hate Parker Reed.
I think I love him.

Matched By My Rival is an enemies-to-lovers,
jock rivals romance. It’s Book 2 of the Thrust Into Love series but can be read as a
standalone.

Excerpt

The following excerpt is from Simon’s POV, when he
realizes that his app hookup is actually his rival, Parker Reed.


This couldn’t be happening. Parker Reed? Parker
Reed was my Thrust match? No, I refused to believe it.

“There must be some mistake,” I growled.

He didn’t back down. Parker wasn’t the type. But for once,
his obnoxious grin was absent.

“No mistake. A surprise, for sure.”

I turned to Rhett, who was watching us with the fascination
of a driver gawking at an accident scene. “I’ll close up if you let me take care of this.”

“Yeah, sure. Bar’s done serving. Knock yourself out,
just…clean up the blood before you leave.” He cut his eyes toward Parker. “Whoever you
are, I wish you the best.”

He exited the bar through a little section of counter that
raised up, creating a gap. I held it open for Parker, jerking my chin toward the back room.
“Let’s go.”

Parker chuckled nervously as he passed through the bar
entrance, brushing against my chest. I could feel his body warmth, smell his aftershave, an
earthy natural scent that suited him.

Heart pounding, I led him into the back room. Surrounded
by boxes of liquor and kegs of beer, I whirled on him. “Did you know?”

“Wh-what?”

Parker appeared off-balance. Usually he was a smooth
fucker.

“Were you playing me?” I demanded, crowding him against

a stack of boxes. We were close to the same size, but I didn’t let it stop me from putting
every ounce of threat I could into my voice.

“No!” The word burst from him, sounding incredulous.
“How would I know it was you? We never shared personal stuff.”

“So it’s a coincidence?” I said skeptically.

“Yes. It’s a really awkward coincidence that the guy I—” His
voice cracked, and he looked away. “I didn’t know.”

“Look me in the eye when you say it.”

Parker reluctantly looked at me, frustration blazing. “You’re
such an asshole sometimes, Prentiss.”

A shocked laugh burst out. “Really?”

“Yeah, I know I screwed up, okay? I never should have gone
to that party with Kristin. And obviously we wouldn’t be here if you knew it was me on that
app. But you don’t have to interrogate me like a fucking criminal.”

A whole series of memories hit me. All those flirty chats.
Those sexts that Parker had so patiently walked me through. I’d thought he was the nicest
guy on the planet.

“Fuck me,” I muttered, looking away.

“Please stop saying that,” Parker said in a strangled
voice.

I jerked my eyes back to his face in time to see a look of
such lust it shot heat through my entire body. “What?”

“Fucking you is all I’ve thought about for weeks.” He
laughed weakly. “Joke’s on me, huh?”

I couldn’t stop my eyes from making a slow perusal of his
body. It was dark, but I could make out the shape of him. I knew how fit he was. Knew
because we had practically the same body, the way we’d pushed ourselves in training. He
was of a slightly leaner build than me, more flexible. I knew his body intimately too. A series
of pics from his profile, and even more illicit ones he’d sent me directly, had filled in any
blanks I might have had.

His chest rose and fell faster. When I raised my gaze to his
face, he dragged the tip of his tongue over his dry lips.

And I lost it.

There was no thought, no reasoning. I’d spent weeks
dipping my toe in the water, testing, evaluating. But now I was in the deep end.

I was ready to swim. Or maybe I’d drown. But if I did, I was
taking us both down.

I crushed my mouth to his, shoving him harder into the
boxes, and he grasped at my waist for balance, gripping hard enough to hurt. The pain only
fueled my need. I grabbed his hair, short on the sides but longer on top, and yanked his
head back to better devour his mouth.

Weeks of buildup, of flirting with my bisexuality and
tempting myself to no end, exploded in a fiery inferno of need.

I didn’t care if it was Parker. I didn’t care that he was a man
I’d blamed and detested. In some ways, it made it easier.

This wasn’t the love connection I thought it might be. It
was unbridled lust, and I was just getting started.

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.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Sun, Sea, & Small-Town Secrets” by S.J. Coles

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Sun, Sea & Small-Town Secrets

Author: S. J.
Coles

Publisher: Pride
Publishing

Release Date: July 6,
2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Mystery/Holiday Romance

Tropes: Forbidden Love / Small Town / Holiday

Themes: Healing / Hurt/Comfort / Travel / Self-discovery

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 48 634 words/ 193
pages

It is a standalone
story.

Add on
Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Pride Publishing

 

Small towns are full of
secrets, some harder to keep than most.

 

Blurb

Sebastian Conway is a professional psychologist and

accomplished criminal profiler, but when one of his patients is sentenced to life in prison for
a crime she didn’t commit, he simply cannot let it go. His borderline obsessive behaviour
has embarrassed his boss and lover, Gerrard Wilson, and the relationship has come to a
bitter end.

Seb has now grudgingly taken Gerrard’s advice and come to
the small coastal town of Ruéier in the South of France to get some distance and clear his
head—but he cannot sit by and do nothing.

He has started writing a book he believes will address the
failings in the case, but when he gets swept up in a local investigation into suspected drug
trafficking, which is led by the enigmatic and strangely enticing Antoine Damboise, the
book—and Seb’s intentions to avoid active criminal cases—take a back seat.

He knows it’s a bad idea to get involved, but he can’t seem
to help himself. And when it seems Damboise is tempted to make their relationship more
than professional, Seb finds it easier than ever to ignore his better judgment. But when a
local drug dealer is murdered and Seb is implicated, everything gets a whole lot more
complicated.

Can the two men set aside their personal feelings long
enough to figure out what’s really going on before Seb ends up in prison? Or
worse…

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of murder and drug use.

 

Excerpt

“Monsieur Conway?”

I turned back. He was stood by reception looking
thoughtful, scratching at the stubble on his cheek.

“Yes?”

“Would you, perhaps, like to get a coffee?”

I blinked. “A coffee?”

Oui,” he said. “A thank you, shall we say?
For your

help.”

His smile was friendly, but his eyes were weighing me

up with a dark intensity I couldn’t penetrate. Whatever it
was going on here, saying yes, I knew, would be a very bad idea.

“Sure,” I said with a smile. “Sounds good.”

His own smile widened, and he nodded. “Bon. I will meet you
outside.”

I was grinning like a teenager with a crush as I stepped back
out into the street. The fresh breeze dried the clamminess on my face and swelled in my
lungs and chest. A small confidence boost could only help my productivity, I decided. I still
wasn’t sure what exactly his interest was. Heavy looks or not, I got exactly zero read on his
sexuality. But surely even French police didn’t take witnesses for coffee?

I was so busy retrospectively analysing his body language in
the interview room—
Did he extend his leg
toward me? Rest his hand near mine?
—that I
didn’t hear him behind me until he said my name.

“Apologies,” he said when I started, and a small smile
twitched the corner of his mouth. A pair of sunglasses hid his troublesome eyes from view.
He’d slung his jacket over his arm and, with the bright sunshine glinting in his corn-blond
hair and off his white teeth, I suddenly wondered how I ever considered him plain.

“It’s fine,” I managed. “Where do you want to go?” “Ah, I
know the best place. Follow me.”

“Antoine?”

We turned back. Adjudant Rayne was hurrying toward us.
She fired French at him whilst frowning at me. Damboise replied calmly, and she said
something more, her eyes leaving me to send Damboise what was unmistakably a warning
look.

C’est
bon
,” Damboise concluded. “This way,” he said
and turned toward the seafront. Rayne watched us leave with her arms crossed and
expression grim.

“She doesn’t like me very much,” I said.

“You misunderstand,” he said without looking at me. “She
was just reminding me of some paperwork that is late. I will do it after a bit.”

I spent the rest of the walk pondering the possible reasons
behind his lie.

The breeze was brisker and the air fresher as we stepped
out onto the seafront boulevard. The beach was crowded with families—the children
running, laughing and shrieking in the gentle swell of the shallows. The boats bobbed
sedately in the harbour, shining all the colours of the rainbow under the bright, sapphire sky.
Bicycles whizzed up and down the road, baskets laden with groceries or bottles of wine. The
men with guns seemed like a distant dream.

I followed him as he crossed the road to the Café De La
Mer
.

“You have been here before then, yes?” he said as he
pulled out the chairs around one of the plastic tables under a blue-and-white parasol.

“The first day I got here,” I said, a little warily as I surveyed
the clear view of the harbour. “The coffee is good, but I think it’s better at Cafe Maman.”

Oui,” he said, hanging his jacket on the
back of his chair and sitting. “I would say that is true. But have you tried the
chocolat chaud?”

“Hot chocolate?” I translated dubiously, taking the other
chair. “I don’t much like it.”

“Just wait,” he said, signalling a smiling waiter with a raised
hand and placing the order. Damboise made meaningless small talk for the interval until the
waiter returned. I blinked, surprised, as he set the shallow cup half-full of dark liquid that
looked more like espresso than chocolate in front of me.

“What, no squirty cream? Marshmallows?” I asked with a
half-smile as Damboise lifted his small cup in his distractingly delicate grip.

“We respect chocolate too much to pollute it so. This is the
local recipe, melted then mixed with a splash of cognac. Go ahead. Try it.”

I lifted the cup to my face and inhaled the rich, thick scent.
It was sweet, yes, but savoury too—bold, rather than cloying. It reminded me of
fresh-turned earth, with a slight smokiness, like when the wind brings the scent of a distant
bonfire. I drank. It was so thick that I could almost chew it. It tasted like it smelled—rich and
earthy, with the spice of tree bark and apricot from the cognac.

“Good, non?”

“Yeah,” I said, tipping the cup farther to coax more into my
mouth. “This isn’t like the instant stuff.”

“In France, nothing is instant. Everything is slow.
Considered. Deliberate.”

“I’m beginning to get that,” I said, scraping the remains of
the chocolate with the tiny spoon that had come with it. Damboise smiled at me, sipping his
own drink like someone sampling a fine wine, then he dabbed his lips with a napkin.

 

 

About the Author

S.J. Coles is a Romance writer originally from Shropshire, UK.
She has been writing stories for as long as she has been able to read them. Her biggest
passion is exploring narratives through character relationships.

She finds writing
LGBT/paranormal romance provides many unique and fulfilling opportunities to explore
many (often neglected or under-represented) aspects of human experience, expectation,
emotion and sexuality.

Among her biggest influences
are LGBT Romance authors K J Charles and Josh Lanyon and Vampire Chronicles author Anne
Rice.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter

Instagram | Pride
Publishing

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

 

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BLOG TOUR: “A Soul Unbroken” by A.D. Britten. Rafflercopter Giveaway Included!

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: A Soul Unbroken

Author: A.D.
Britten

Publisher:
Self-Published

Original Release Date: May 26, 2019 – Recently re-edited

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 412
pages

It is a standalone
book

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

A hustler’s life drastically
changes after he enters a homeless shelter.

Blurb

Joey Christopher has never had an easy life, but living with
Allen made everything better. His mere presence made Joey happy and made life seem
more manageable despite Allen’s serious faults. However, when Allen is arrested during a
drug bust Joey must learn to live on his own for the first time. He even spends some time in
a homeless shelter, while he does everything possible to get Allen home to return to the life
they once lived only better.

Excerpt

For the rest of that day Joey told himself that he wouldn’t
go to Gary’s party; he couldn’t go. He meant to take the card out and tear it up before
leaving work, but forgot. When he got home later that night he meant to take it out and rip
it up, but he was so tired that he just got ready for bed and went to sleep. The end of the
week came and the card was still there in his jeans pocket. He happened to wear the same
pair of jeans that Friday that he had worn on the day of Gary’s visit. Joey took a deep breath
as the last customer left and he went through the store rearranging misplaced books on the
shelf and tidying up the store. At around 5:30pm, Mr. Griffin came out of his office and told
Joey that he could go home early. He would finish up.

The next day was going to be busy with another book
signing and Joey was going to be the only person that morning. The older woman who had
worked there last time, Mr. Griffin’s cousin, could not make it there until later in the
day.

So Joey left the store and told himself he was going home
and he meant to go home. But somehow he found himself at 7 pm standing on Gary’s
porch, one of the first to arrive at his party. He lived at the same address he always had. As
soon as Gary looked through the peephole and saw Joey standing at his door, he opened it
and invited him in.

Joey, looking a little uncertain, walked in. He had not taken
two steps when Gary drew him close and planted a long and ardent kiss on his lips. Joey was
surprised by it but didn’t resist. It had been so long that although he was never deeply
attracted to Gary, he relished the feeling. “It’s been a long time, Joey,” Gary said afterwards.
Joey wanted the kiss to continue, against his better judgement, but Gary’s attention turned
to the room. It was then that he noticed some of the familiar faces in the living room and
kitchen, all people from Gary’s small publishing house.

“Hi, how are you?” Madeline said smiling. She was sitting at
the dining table with a few other people, a man and a woman, with whom she had been
talking. She raised a glass of wine to Joey, having recognized him from the earlier party. Joey
wanted to melt. He suddenly realized that it had been a long time since he’d had any
alcohol. Why on earth was he being so celibate about everything now? He asked Gary for a
glass of wine, which he dutifully poured for him, until a previously unseen large, fluffy, gray
cat hopped up on the table, spilling the bottle in the process.

“Awwwww!” Madeline said, standing up to avoid the spill.
“Silly cat!”

Gary went to the kitchen to get some paper towels.

Joey stood there, a little stunned. “You have a cat?” he
asked.

“Yes, what’s wrong? Are you allergic?” Gary asked

concerned.

“No,” Joey replied. “You just don’t seem the cat
type.”

“Well, he’s the last remains of Hollis, an old boyfriend,”
Gary said with a slight weariness to his voice.

Madeline picked up the now mostly empty wine bottle and
went to the sideboard to replace it, while Gary and another guest continued to clean up the
mess. “I told you, you should’ve gotten rid of him,” Madeline playfully chastised. “As soon as
he was gone, that cat should have been gone too. Why keep memories of Hollis around
anyway? You’re over him now, or so you say.”

Gary just smiled at Joey as he got up from the floor, threw
away the red, wet paper towels and took Joey by the hand, leading him to the back of the
house where Gary’s bedroom was.

About the Author

A.D. Britten is a published
author of various short stories, articles, and two novels.

Author Links

Blog/Website
|
Twitter: @ADBritten1

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Flowers Under My Pillow” by Nell Iris. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Flowers Under My Pillow

Author: Nell Iris

Publisher: JMS Books

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs

Release Date: June 26, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope: Soul mates

Themes: Older characters (40+), instant connection, meet cute 

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:  17 477 words

It is a standalone story

Goodreads

Buy Links 

JMS Books  |  Universal Link 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Smiling brown eyes. A dark beard. Dandelions. Sunny, happy dandelions.

Blurb

Smiling brown eyes. A dark beard. Dandelions. Sunny, happy dandelions.

For thirty years, Frode’s had the same dream. Every Midsummer’s Eve since he was a kid accompanying his sister to pick flowers to put under his pillow, he’s dreamed of the same man. A dream he never shares with anyone, that makes him wish for impossible things…like true love.

“It’s you.”

Then one Midsummer’s Eve, the man of Frode’s dreams stands before him in the flesh. Both men recognize each other despite never having met in real life. Both men are instantly drawn to each other and want to know more.

“Who are you, Viljar? Are you even real?”

Their questions are many but do the whys and the hows matter? Or should they allow the Midsummer magic that brought them together to lead the way into each other’s arms? Into each other’s hearts?

Traditional Swedish folklore tells you that if you pick seven kinds of flowers in silence and put them under your pillow on Midsummer’s Eve, you’ll dream of the man you’ll marry.

Excerpt

When I look around to take in my surroundings, I realize my feet have carried me to the cottage without me noticing, and something catches my attention on the lawn on the other side of the fence.

A closer look reveals a tripod with a big, professional-looking camera attached on top. And underneath it, a man lies on his back, surrounded by a starry sky of tiny white flowers growing low in the grass. I don’t want to disturb him and I’m just about to sneak away when he turns his head toward me. 

Warm brown eyes, with crow’s feet radiating out from the corners, meet mine. But it’s his full beard, scattered with dandelions, that makes my heart tumble over itself in my chest. 

Smiling eyes. A full beard. Dandelions. 

Dandelions

My hand flies to my chest as I forget how to breathe. 

It’s him.

****

The man’s eyes widen, then he springs to his feet, banging his knee into the tripod almost making it topple over, but his arm shoots out, his big hand landing on the camera, stopping it from crashing down onto the grass.

“It’s you,” he says, his voice a deep rumble emanating from the pit of his stomach, vibrating its way to me, settling in my core.

It’s you. 

What does he mean? Does he recognize me, too? 

“It’s you,” he says again as he takes a few hesitant steps in my direction. His eyes never leave my face. 

“It’s you,” I echo, brows furrowed. 

The improbability of it all, of my recurring dream materializing and standing in front of me, makes me take a step backward. He leaps forward, dislodging a couple of the dandelions from his beard by the sudden movement, and I watch them sail to the ground. 

When I look up at him again, it’s as though I’m zooming out of my body and look at the two of us from a distance. Two men, separated by a white picket fence, staring at each other as though they’ve seen a ghost, as though they both think they must be hallucinating. His features are so familiar; I know every line radiating from the corner of his eyes, every strand of his beard. I know all the nuances of brown in his dark eyes; as though someone swirled chocolate into a deep well of coffee and then sprinkled some gold into the mix to make it irresistible. I know the sensitive setting of his mouth. I know the intense gaze.

It makes me dizzy, and I stumble but manage to keep myself upright. I take another wobbly step backward.

“Don’t go,” he says. “Please.” He stops but holds out his hand as though he wants to touch me to make sure I’m real. 

The feeling is mutual. How is this even possible? How can the man I’ve dreamed about every Midsummer these last thirty years be right here a few steps from me? As though I’ve dreamed him into existence. 

I drag my gaze away from his face and take in the rest of him. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his biceps are straining the short sleeves of his button-down shirt. He’s got a rounded belly and meaty thighs filling out his faded jeans, and his big wide feet are bare in the grass. 

Heat stirs between my hips. God, he’s not only the literal man of my dreams, but he’s hot as sin, too. When I force myself to look away from his body, our gazes meet. 

“You recognize me, too,” he says, eyes pleading. “I can tell from your reaction.”

I dip my chin once. “I do.”

My heart flutters in my chest like the wings of a colibri. Another dandelion falls from his beard and my gaze follows it down as it lands softly on the ground. 

My mind spins with questions and it’s making me dizzy again. How can the man from my dreams stand before me in the flesh? A living, breathing human being? A living breathing human being who recognizes me too?  

When our eyes meet again, I read the same confusion in him. 

About the Author 

Nell Iris is a romantic at heart who believes everyone deserves a happy ending. She’s a bona fide bookworm (learned to read long before she started school), wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without something to read (not even the ladies room), loves music (and singing along at the top of her voice but she’s no Celine Dion), and is a real Star Trek nerd (Make it so). She loves words, bullet journals, poetry, wine, coffee-flavored kisses, and fika (a Swedish cultural thing involving coffee and pastry!)

Nell believes passionately in equality for all regardless of race, gender or sexuality, and wants to make the world a better, less hateful, place.

Nell is a bisexual Swedish woman married to the love of her life, a proud mama of a grown daughter, and is approaching 50 faster than she’d like. She lives in the south of Sweden where she spends her days thinking up stories about people falling in love. After dreaming about being a writer for most of her life, she finally was in a place where she could pursue her dream and released her first book in 2017.

Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, short over long, and quirky characters over alpha males. 

Author Links

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Twitter  |   Instagram   |  Goodreads

Pinterest  |  BookBub  |  Newsletter

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RELEASE BLITZ: “The Phisher King 4: Honeypot” by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid”

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Phisher King 4: Honeypot

Author: Clancy Nacht &
Thursday Euclid

Publisher: Eine Kleine
Press

Cover Artist: Clancy
Nacht

Release Date: June 22,
2021

Genres: Contemporary M/M Romantic Suspense/Thriller

Trope/s: Daddy/boy, mercs with hearts of gold.

Themes: Hurt/comfort

Heat Rating: 4
flames

Length: 72 000 words/279
pages

It Is not a standalone story.

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Is Dark Sun an olive
branch from Barnes to the men he betrayed,

or is this the honeypot
that will secure their demise?

Blurb

It’s been a long road to recovery since FBI Agent Cal Riggs
and his hacker boyfriend Hunter Walsh’s last showdown with the treacherous Justin Barnes.
His betrayal during
False Flag left Cal and Hunter scarred and shaken. As their friends Sam
Dupre and Rob Crawford dealt with domestic terrorism in Olympia during
Penetration Test,
Hunter and Cal fought to regain a sense of normalcy that never materialized.


The Bureau under the Trump Administration takes
a punitive attitude toward Cal’s passion of fighting white nationalism, and his employment
there grows less tenable by the day. Meanwhile, Hunter deals with the uncertainty of
Barnes’s continued freedom by taking extreme steps to enhance the security of the condo
he shares with Cal. No part of their lives has escaped Barnes’s poisoned touch.


When a shady corporate lawyer shows up on the
doorstep while Cal’s at work, Hunter takes the meeting and discovers Barnes’s plan B: In his
absence, he wants to bequeath his mercenary company, Dark Sun, to his former FBI partner
and lover, no other than Callum Riggs. But what is Cal going to do with Barnes’s mercs? Can
he really leave the Bureau he’s been part of since graduation? Well, if Hunter has a say,
that’s exactly what Cal will do.


But life in the private sector is dangerous, too.
Enemies hide in plain sight in Dark Sun’s every office, and there’s no knowing who still
supports Barnes and his deadly extremist agenda. Is the mercenary company an olive
branch from Barnes to the men he betrayed, or is this the honeypot that will secure their
demise?

CW: Violence,
brief sexual violence (not between MCs; no rape), white nationalist terrorism

Excerpt

“Feet. Off. The. Furniture,” Cal gritted out, something
sparking behind his dark eyes.


“What, you’re the boss for one day and you think
you can just start ordering people around?” Hunter pouted and squirmed down, pushing his
feet farther onto the table.


“I’ve been the boss of you a lot longer than
that.” Cal’s flat delivery and the challenge in his expression lit a fire in Hunter. It was

honestly surprising they hadn’t just fucked over his seriously uncomfortable desk right in
front of everyone this afternoon.


Before Hunter could act, Cal dropped Bruiser on
him and then leaned down and physically knocked Hunter’s feet off the coffee table.


Hunter caught Bruiser, but quickly released him
onto the couch so he wouldn’t get stuck in the middle of everything. The force with which
Cal pushed Hunter’s feet turned him sideways, and he barely caught himself so he didn’t
topple to the floor.


“You gonna work out some aggression on Mike
Hunt?”


“You and your frakking pranks.” Cal grabbed Hunter
around the waist and shoved him back on the luxurious sofa, pushing him into a corner and
pinning him there with a hand on his shoulder and another on his inner thigh.


That sculpted face and its fading scars loomed
inches from Hunter’s nose as Cal stared him down. “You do this crap on purpose, I’m
convinced. Mike frakking Hunt. It’s like you’re begging for it. Do you have any idea how
difficult it was for me to be professional today?”


“I was trying to be good. I didn’t even drop
anything so you could see how my ass looks when I bend over to pick it up. Didn’t matter,
though. I saw you checking me out. Wonder what Rory thinks you’re hiring me for.”


Hunter had removed his jacket when he’d gotten
home, leaving him in a snug black t-shirt and the stretchy jeans. “You gonna give me a
full-time job, Daddy?”


“If you play your cards right, you little brat.”

About the Authors

Together, Texans and platonic
life partners Thursday Euclid and Clancy Nacht write queer novels that span genres, with
intense romances and a seamless shared narrative voice.

They published their first

co-written novel, the m/m rock star romance Black Gold, in 2010, and now have over a
decade of award-winning collaborations under their exquisite belts. Recent titles include the
twisted romance His Fake Prison Daddy and the Phisher King series, in which an uptight
federal agent and a bratty hacker go from enemies to lovers while solving a hate
crime.

Though Elder Millennial trans
man Thursday and Gen X gender outlaw Clancy live three hours apart, they are inseparable.
Their friendship is a perfect example of the Grumpy/Sunshine trope, which makes Thursday
very happy. Clancy thinks it’s all right.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website |
Twitter | Twitter |
Instagram

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BLOG TOUR: “The Art of Living” by Abrianna Denae. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: The Art of Living

Author: Abrianna
Denae

Cover Artist: Pretty in Ink
Creations

Release Date: June 10,
2021

Genre: Contemporary gay romance

Tropes: Single dad, hurt/comfort, office romance, slow burn

Themes: Trust, meddling family

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 35 000 words/ 90
pages

It is a standalone book,
though the reader may be interested in The Gift of Believing, a companion book
featuring the MC’s son: mybook.to/GoB

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal pre-order link
|
Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

Letting go is the hardest
thing a person can do…

 

Blurb

Robert Harper has spent the past seventeen years living for his son. He doesn’t know who
he is if he’s not being a caregiver and protector all rolled into one.

Niall Ross is finally ready to make a life of his own. After years spent making sure his younger
brother had everything he needed, it’s time for Niall to discover who he is.

All it takes is one glance across a crowded meeting room for the men to feel a connection,
but Robert is terrified his life is too complicated for the other man. Luckily, Niall has patience
in abundance. With a little help from Robert’s meddling family, the two begin a tentative
relationship.

Just as they’re finding their footing, all of Robert’s worst fears come to life and he falters
under the pressure. Niall takes the challenge to show Robert that he’s a safe place to lean
on, but when his own life begins to unravel, he places his heart in Robert’s hands. When two
independent men are forced to trust each other will the love win out, or will vulnerability
and fear cause them to lose the best thing they didn’t even know they had.

 

Excerpt

“You really want me to date?”

Garrett nods. “I want you to live your life. I know you’re going to argue and say that you
have everything you need with me, and Uncle Jared, and Sam. Maybe that’s true, but I also
can’t help but feel guilty because if I wasn’t me then maybe you’d have found someone else
by now.”

“Garrett, no, you know that’s not true,” I say gently. “Those other people I dated when you
were younger, they didn’t last because they weren’t right for our family. If anyone can’t
handle me and everything I come with, then they’re not worth my time.”

He studies me with those dark, wise eyes of his. “Does this mean you’ll give Niall a chance
then? Because he’s different, I can feel it.”

Shit. I walked right into that one.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I’d be open to trying.”

Garrett smiles and whips out his phone. I don’t bother asking who he’s texting, since the
pieces are starting to slowly fall into place. I look at Presley, “They planned this, didn’t
they?”

Pres smiles and nods. “Jared thought you both needed a little intervention.”

I shake my head and laugh a bit because my family is insane.

Garrett is still texting away while Presley and I clean up the kitchen. I try to tell Pres that he
doesn’t need to help since he and Gare cooked, but he waves me off.

I just get the dishwasher started when my phone rings. The display reads Niall and my
mouth suddenly goes dry while my stomach begins to tie itself into knots.

Both boys stare at me as I accept the call. “Hello?”

“Hi,” pause, and then Niall laughs, “This is more awkward than I thought it’d be.”

I smile and turn away from the teenage busybodies. “I seriously doubt whatever you have to
say is more awkward than the dinner I just had.”

He laughs again. “They tried to butter you up with food, huh?”

I groan. “Yes. When’d they get to you?”

“Sam talked to me this afternoon. Then they added me to a group chat a few hours ago and
promptly blew up my phone with texts about twenty minutes or so ago.”

I sigh. “I’m sorry about them.”

“It’s fine,” Niall assures. “They’re just looking out for you.”

“They’re nosy and need to learn how to mind their own business.” I look over my shoulder
to find Garrett and Presley sitting at the table, hanging onto my every word. Shaking my
head, I stride from the room in search of some privacy.

“So if I were to ask you to dinner, you’d say no?”

“I guess you should ask and find out.”

Niall chuckles a bit. “Will you have dinner with me, Robert?”

My heart stutters in my chest and it takes a moment for me to get my mouth working. “Yes,”
I finally manage to say.

“Great. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is perfect.”

“I’ll text you the details unless someone else does it for me.”

I snort. “That’s a high possibility. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he repeats. “Have a good night, Robert.”

“You too.”

The line goes dead and a part of me mourns the loss of his voice. Taking a steadying breath,
I let the giddy feeling of a first date wash over me. I’ll never tell my family this, but I’m glad
they decided to interfere with my life. I never would have had the guts to do this myself.

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

 

 

About the Author

Abrianna Denae is a
twenty-four-year-old author living in Northern California. An English major, she has always
had a passion for writing.

Deciding to sit down and
write one of the many stories that had plagued her mind for years was the easy
part—finding the time to do it was a different story.

Caffeine is her best friend,
and sleep is her worst enemy.

A lover of books that make
the reader feel something, she tries to incorporate as much of her real-world views and
feelings into her stories as she can.

 

Social Media Links

Facebook | Facebook Group | Twitter |
Instagram

BookBub | Goodreads
Author Page
|
Amazon Author Page

You can also email her at
authorabridenae@gmail.com

 

Giveaway

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either a $20 Amazon gift card
or one of two ebooks from the author’s backlist.

a
Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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Continue Reading BLOG TOUR: “The Art of Living” by Abrianna Denae. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!