RELEASE BLITZ: “My Name is Jimmy” by Garrick Jones.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: My Name is Jimmy

Author: Garrick
Jones

Publisher: MoshPit
Publications

Cover Artist: Garrick
Jones

Release Date: June 1,
2022

Genres: LGBT mystery thriller,
LGBT crime fiction

Themes: Lies and deception,
murder mystery, finding Mr. Right, war and its aftermath

Length: 17 930 words/53
pages

Heat Rating: 4
flames

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

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon AU | Amazon
US
| Amazon UK

Blurb

In 1947, James “Jimmy” Bacon becomes involved in a
violent workplace altercation fuelled by a PTSD-induced rage. His boss, a fellow war-veteran,
tells him to take a few months off work, have a holiday, go somewhere warm, and get his
head together.

Jimmy decides to take a coastal steamer to the

northernmost outpost of Australia, Darwin, the capital of the Northern Territory, to visit the
grave of his oldest friend, Sandy, killed during the Japanese bombing of the city in 1942.
Upon arriving, he discovers that Sandy’s death is not as simple as military records seemed to
indicate. After learning that Sandy’s grave contains only an arm with no distinguishing
features, he starts asking questions around town in order to find out what really happened
to his mate.

The more he asks, the more he discovers that Darwin is less
about post-war reconstruction and more about drugs, gambling, and the excessive
consumption of alcohol. It’s a lawless city where 95% of the population is male and
prostitution is banned, creating a thriving underworld where rough frontier-town blokes and
men from the armed forces are doing more with each other than having a beer and passing
the time of day.

While digging deeper, Jimmy discovers a terrible truth,
arousing the interest of men who would do anything to keep the past a secret—men who
consider his life of little value. Jimmy is forced to rely on quick thinking and his army training
when death comes looking for him in the dead of night.

Excerpt

Tides in Darwin were monumental, sometimes more than
twenty feet rise and fall twice a day. The harbour was still dotted with wrecks, the
Indonesian bosun of the launch from the
Pamanoekan taking us to the makeshift
long jetty that jutted out into the sea from Mindil Beach happily pointed out the ships and
the numbers killed on each vessel. The American destroyer USS
Peary had the highest death toll:
over eighty-eight killed during the raid and only fifty-three survivors. I had no idea; we
hadn’t got that news, just that ships had been sunk and the town bombed twice. As we
negotiated towards the beach, I saw two officials waiting at the end of the jetty. There were
only six of us disembarking in Darwin, but there seemed to be a small crowd on the beach
itself—probably about twenty men in all. I couldn’t imagine they were a welcoming
committee; they were most likely blokes who’d decided to quit the town and sail on the
Pamanoekan to either Broome or Perth to start new lives.

“Take care, Mr. Bacon,” the bosun said to me. “Darwin’s a
hard drinking town, rough and violent. Too many blokes, barely any women. Watch yourself,
especially in the pubs, most men in this hole like to speak with their fists.”

“Sounds like what I’m used to, mate. Don’t worry about
me.”

“Got your military permit to go ashore?”

I patted the breast pocket of my jacket. Everyone had to
have a reason to go to Darwin; in 1947, you still couldn’t just turn up there out of the blue.
I’d applied for my permit with a covering letter from Sandy’s parents, asking me to take a
photo of his grave. Reluctantly, it had been granted after I’d showed my service record to the
dick at the permit office in Sydney. He was all of sixteen by the look of him. I’d slapped it on
the counter and growled. His eyes had bulged a little, but he’d stamped it and called out
“next!” over my shoulder.

I had six weeks in Darwin to get warm, find what I was
looking for, and shake off some of my demons. The first two I was sure I could do; the last
remained to be seen.

“Taxi, sir?” a thick-set man asked as I stepped onto the
beach after being processed.

“Nah, I’ll walk,” I replied.

“Where you going?”

“Stokes Hill.”

“In this heat?” he asked with a smile, showing a mouth full
of gold teeth. “That’s nearly an hour on foot, mate. Do yourself a favour and get in my
cab.”

“Call this hot? I served in Ceylon, India, and Malaya, and
finished my war in Burma and Siam, my friend. An hour stroll in the sun will do me
good.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. When I asked which way I should
go, he pointed in the direction of Stokes Hill then turned his back on me to ask a man and his
wife
who were standing not far away, looking
stunned at their surroundings, whether they needed a taxi. Two years after the war, there
were still bomb craters and uncleared tangles of broken palms on either side of the road
that led to the jetty.

I walked down the beach for a bit then changed into my
shorts and a singlet, threw my army duffel bag over my shoulder, and lit a fag. “Hello,
Darwin,” I said to nowhere in particular.

I could have sworn it told me to fuck off and go back
home.

About the Author

After a thirty year career as a
professional opera singer, performing as a soloist in opera houses and in concert halls all
over the world, I took up a position as lecturer in music in Australia in 1999, at the Central
Queensland Conservatorium of Music, which is now part of CQUniversity.


Brought up in Australia, between the bush and the
beaches of the Eastern suburbs, I retired in 2015 and now live in the tropics, writing,
gardening, and finally finding time to enjoy life and to re-establish a connection with who I
am after a very busy career on the stage and as an academic.


I write mostly historical gay fiction. The stories are
always about relationships and the inner workings of men; sometimes my fellas get down to
the nitty-gritty, sometimes it’s up to you, the reader, to fill in the blanks.


Every book is story driven; spies, detectives,
murders, epic dramas, there’s something for everyone. I also love to write about my country
and the things that make us Aussies and our history different from the rest of the
world.


I’m research driven. I always try to do my best to
give the reader a sense of what life was like for my main characters in the world they live
in.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Twitter |
Instagram

Newsletter Sign-up | Pinterest | Australian Crime Writers Association

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Continue ReadingRELEASE BLITZ: “My Name is Jimmy” by Garrick Jones.

RELEASE BLITZ: “The Devil You Know” by S.J. Coles. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Devil
You Know

Author: S. J.
Coles

Publisher: Pride
Publishing

Release Date: May 24, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance, Mystery, Courtroom
Drama

Tropes: Forbidden Love, Second Chance, Reformed Bully, Billionaire
Lawyer/Client

Themes: Forgiveness, Journey of Discovery, Healing

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 98 131 words/ 402
pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal
Link
|
Pride
Publishing

Amazon US | Amazon UK

The law is about how you choose to represent the truth.
Love is no different.

Blurb

Hilary Whyte believes that he has left his teenage troubles—and the person who embodied
them—in the past. He has spent a decade building his career as a defense solicitor, believing
that despite his troubled past, even the worst human beings deserve justice.

Now he has a promotion on the horizon as well as a fairytale wedding to his film star fiancé.
On paper, life couldn’t be better.

But now he is being made to represent Dom Gosford, the boy who made his adolescence a
living hell, on a double murder charge, and Hilary can’t be sure he is innocent. As the trial
approaches, the two men are forced to travel a road of discovery, only to find that the truth
of their connection goes much deeper than the question of who killed Lizzie and Dean
Wood.

Reader advisory: This book contains a graphic
description of murder and references to suicide, pedophilia, blackmail, pre-marital infidelity,
and child pornography

Excerpt

Dominic finally turned around. Hilary had told himself many
times in the last few weeks that he’d forgotten what this man looked like—that he’d
successfully wiped the image from his mind, along with the sound of his voice. But as he
took in the eyes, blacker than midnight, the hard, almost cruel set to a jaw that would
otherwise be considered handsome, it was like Hilary was again sprawled on the PE
changing room floor, that same face hanging over his, bloodied lips twisted and mocking, his
fist raised for another blow.

“So, it really is you.” Dominic didn’t speak loudly, but it was
like a stone had dropped into the silence of the room. “I could have laid a considerable
amount of money on never seeing you again.”

“Well, I guess we would have both lost that wager. Shall
we?” Hilary said, indicating the sofas and coffee.

“I’m good,” Dominic said, lifting his glass. “You help
yourself.”

Hilary sat, ignoring the coffee, even though his veins were
clamoring for caffeine. Fear that the coffee pot would shake in his grip was too real. Instead,
he opened his briefcase and began laying the paperwork out on the narrow glass table. “It
probably would have been better to meet at the office for this—”

“Too many flapping ears,” Dominic said. “My mother-in-law
has some trust issues, to say the least.”

“We can manage here if you’re more comfortable. But just
so you know,” he said, pulling a device out of his case and laying it on the coffee table, “I’ll
be recording every session.”

“Still have trust issues of your own, I see.”

“So,” Hilary said, switching the recorder on, not meeting
Dominic’s eye, “I’m up to speed on all the known facts of this case. This meeting is for me to
get to know your side of the story in more detail and to help you prepare for what happens
next.”

Dominic gazed at him thoughtfully. “I’ve been trying to
remember… What was it we called you? In school?”

“That isn’t—”

“Lilywhite. That was it, wasn’t it?”

Hilary took a moment to steady his voice. “Let’s get one
thing straight right from the start, Mr. Hart-Gosford,” he said levelly. “Our personal
connection is one of the reasons why Walter Gunnerson wanted me to represent you. But all
he knows is that we both attended St. Edmund’s.”

Dominic lifted his fine, black eyebrows. “If the good Mr.
Gunnerson knew the truth, he might wonder why you agreed to take this case at all…as I
do.”

Hilary looked him in the eye. “I’m capable of not allowing
the past to affect my judgment. But if you insist on bringing it up, it will become a problem.
Understand?”

He sipped his drink. “I understand.”

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

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Just Calamarried” by K.L. Hiers. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Just Calamarried (Sucker For Love Mystery #5)

Author: K.L.
Hiers

Publisher: Dreamspinner

Cover Artist: Tiferet
Designs

Release Date: March 22,
2022

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Tropes: Mpreg, Wrongly Accused, Double Murder

Themes: Love Conquers All

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 61 000 words/257
pages

It is not a standalone story. It is book 5 in the Sucker For Love
Mysteries series.

The story does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | B&N

Blurb

Newlyweds Sloane and Loch are eagerly expecting their
first child, though for Sloane that excitement is tempered by pregnancy side effects. Carrying
a god’s baby would be enough to deal with, especially with the whole accelerated gestation

thing, but it’s not like Sloane can take maternity leave. He works for himself as a private
investigator. Which leads him to his next case.

At least this strange new mystery distracts him from the
stress of constant puking.

When two priests are murdered within hours of each other,
a woman named Daphne hires Sloane and Loch to track down the prime suspect—her
brother—before the police do. Between untangling a conspiracy of lies and greed, going
toe-to-toe with a gangster, and stealing a cat, they hardly have time to decorate a
nursery….

Excerpt

Sloane Beaumont had known and persevered through
many hardships: the death of his parents, losing his job as a detective, and the struggle of
establishing his own private investigation business.

Oh, and saving the world from ancient murderous eldritch
gods who wanted to awaken their even more murderous father and destroy all of humanity,
of course.

He was a fighter, a warrior, a Starkiller amongst
mortals.

It was hard to believe he was being beaten by morning
sickness.

Then again, it was crazy enough dealing with the fact he
even had it to begin with, since men usually couldn’t get pregnant. Most men, however,
weren’t married to a very well-meaning but ultimately irresponsible god.

“You are the most beautiful creature in all of the universe,”
Loch was soothing. “Even when you are depositing your stomach contents into the porcelain
bowl, you are stunning, my sweet mate.”

“Oh, by the gods.” Sloane groaned and rested his head
against the toilet seat. “That’s very nice. And very gross. Thank you.”

“Here, my love.” Loch presented him with a slitted tentacle,
the tip ghosting over Sloane’s lips.

“Thanks.” Sloane lightly sucked on the tentacle, closing his
eyes as a rush of sweet liquid flooded his mouth. It was the divine nectar of a god, easing his
nausea and the cramps in his stomach immediately.

It was also technically Loch’s come.

Though it was sort of weird to drink it so casually, it had
incredible healing properties, and Sloane could use all the help he could get right
now.

Carrying the child of an ancient god was turning out to be a
real pain in the ass.

“I don’t understand,” Sloane grumbled as he got up to
wash his face. “The first three months were great. Solved some cases, went apartment
hunting, got the one with the extra bedroom I liked, got everything packed and moved, no
problems. Not a one! Awesome. I didn’t get sick, I felt wonderful, I was happy. And now….”
He threw up his hands. “This!”

“I’m sorry, my sweet Starkiller.” Loch frowned. “Gods don’t
usually spawn with mortals. I’m not sure exactly what we should expect with this
pregnancy.”

“What happens with the gods?” Sloane dried off with a
towel. “There’s not much written about the actual spawning. Just that, you know, some of
you choose to do it by yourselves whenever you want.”

“It can vary. Many gods mate and one will carry a spawn for
nine months exactly as mortals do. The triplets, Eb, Ebb, and Ebbeth, on the other hand,
were spawned directly from Baub’s breast with a mere thought. My half-sister, Chandraleth?
Salgumel carried her for a hundred years before giving birth.”

Sloane paled. “I might be pregnant for a hundred
years?”

“No!” Loch paused. “Probably not. It’s unlikely. You could
always lay an egg instead of giving live birth. I think one of my uncles did that.”

Groaning, Sloane dragged himself into their bedroom. “By
all the gods, I’ll be in a nursing home by the time I’m having our egg baby!”

Loch was right behind him and gently swept him up in a
tentacle-filled embrace.

The touch of Loch’s true flesh was always wonderful and
flooded Sloane’s entire body with a rush of sweet warmth. It was the touch of a divine
being, and it was without comparison. Even so, Sloane’s thoughts were determined to make
him miserable.

“Two words,” Sloane grumbled. “Egg baby.”

“My sweet Starkiller, all will be well,” Loch promised,

kissing Sloane’s hands. “My family will be visiting soon for your Neun Monde celebration.
My mother is the goddess of fertility! If anyone can help us with your pregnancy, it is
she.”

“Yeah, but my ‘Neun Monde’ might not be nine months! It
might be a century! When are we supposed to have it?”

“I am not qualified to answer that.”

“Is there any way you could maybe call your mom now?
Maybe she can hook me up with one of her blessings?”

“I can call my sister. She always hears me. I’ll let her know
to bring Mother as soon as possible so we can take care of you.”

“Thank you.” Sloane sighed in relief. “There, now I feel
better.”

“Really?” Loch beamed.

“Yes.” Sloane kissed him. “I love you.”

“And I love you, my beautiful mate.”

About the Author

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

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

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram

Twitter | Newsletter Sign-up | Patreon

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RELEASE BLITZ: “In Vineyards Veritas” by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: In Vineyard Veritas

Author: Clancy Nacht &
Thursday Euclid

Publisher: Eine Kleine
Press

Cover Artist: Clancy
Nacht

Release Date: January 21,
2022

Genres: LGBTQ Cozy mystery, trans man

Tropes: Amateur sleuth, favorite aunt dies, going back home again,
mystery

Themes: Coming back home, finding where you belong

Heat Rating: 0
flames

Length: 206
pages

It is a standalone story.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

In wine, truth. In
vineyard… mystery.

Blurb

Local police summon retired CTO Geraldine Thorn from her
Austin lake house to Kitsch, Texas, the small town where she grew up, when her beloved
Aunt Tilda is found dead at her vineyard home, presumably from a slip in the bath. Upon
arrival, Gerry discovers Tilda’s eclectic group of friends—including a much, much younger
lover—and rivals. When they realize Tilda’s slip wasn’t an accident, Gerry enlists the help of
a handsome Texas Ranger with secrets of his own.

Excerpt

“Howdy. Ms. Geraldine Thorn? This is Sgt. Hale Alexander
with the Texas Ranger Division Company F.” Hale’s voice was a pleasantly raspy tenor with a
thick East Texas drawl. “The Arguello County PD requested my assistance with a mysterious
death. A Lt. Klaus gave me this number. He said, and I quote, ‘May you have the joy of her,’
and washed his hands of this affair. Don’t think you’ve got a fan, ma’am.”

“I’m friendlier when I’m not upset about my aunt dying.”
Gerry felt a pang of frustration, but she appreciated that this guy sounded like he’d be
reasonable. “I appreciate you looking into this. Things aren’t adding up.”

“Well, ma’am, this is highly irregular, involving the Rangers
in this kind of thing, but I’m on my way to Kitsch now from Waco, and we’ll see what there is
to see. The autopsy report had some discrepancies, so your gut may hold true. Don’t go
quotin’ me on that, all right?” Hale cussed under his breath, and the sound of a car horn
interrupted their conversation.

Sounding calmer, he resumed, “Anyhow, I’m gonna have to
view the body before she’s laid to rest, if that’s all right with you, ma’am. I understand
you’re gonna wanna get closure, put her in the ground soon’s you can, but this is
important.”

“Of course. I just came from the funeral home, I can let
them know to hold off picking her up.” She paused and looked up and down the street. “Is
there any way I could join you? I just want to… I think if I saw her with my own eyes it would
help me wrap my head around what happened.”

Discrepancies. That sounded… positive? Not exactly that,
but it was nice to hear that she wasn’t totally losing it. “If she’d had too much wine and
slipped in the tub— that would make sense, but opioids? I just… and there’s a young man,
and… there are things that don’t add up. I want to do right by my aunt.”

“That’s admirable, ma’am. But are you sure you wanna see
your aunt in that state? She’s been autopsied, and she’ll be nekkid as a jaybird on that slab.
It’s gonna stay with you.” Hale didn’t shoot her down, which was something. If anything, he
sounded supportive. There was a steadying warmth in his tone even over the
phone.

“She wouldn’t like my delicate sensibilities getting in the
way of finding out what happened if someone did this to her.” Seeing Tilda’s body wasn’t
something she was looking forward to, but she needed to know. “I’ll be all right.”

“All right then, ma’am. Text me your address to this
number, and I’ll swing ’round and nab you. You’re not gonna wanna drive after. I’m an hour
out.” Hale’s drawl was comforting. While Gerry wasn’t really a small-town girl, she had a
feeling Hale’s good ole boy persona would play well in Kitsch, and no one was going to turn
away a Ranger’s inquiries.

“I’m already downtown. I can…” She looked around and
then shrugged to head to her car. “I’ll just go home, and text you the address. It’s on a
vineyard, so it’s a little out of town, but I imagine an investigator shouldn’t have too hard a
time finding it. Thanks.”

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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AUDIOBOOK TOUR: “Life Lessons” by Kaje Harper

AUDIOBOOK TOUR

Book Title: Life Lessons

Author: Kaje
Harper

Publisher: Self-published
rerelease

Narrator: JF
Harding

Release Date: December 02
2021

Genre: Mystery/Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: murder-mystery, in the closet, modest age-gap, single parenting

Themes: hurt-comfort, closet-getting-tight, MC in danger

Heat Rating: 3-4 flames

Length: 8 hours and 47
minutes

It is the first book in the Life
Lessons series. It does not end on a cliffhanger but a HFN.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Audible, KU and Paperback

Audible US | Audible UK

Amazon US | Amazon
UK

Mac’s three goals: keep
Tony safe, catch the killer, don’t come out.

Blurb

Tony Hart’s a dedicated teacher, though he’s not much
older than his high-school students. Between his profession, a few good friends, and plenty
of books, he’s content with his quiet life. Then the murdered body of another teacher falls
into the elevator at his feet, and Tony’s life becomes all too exciting.


Jared MacLean is a homicide detective, widowed
father to a young daughter, and deeply in the closet. But from the moment he meets Tony’s
blue eyes in that high school hallway, Mac can’t help wanting this man in his life. Mac’s not
out ― can’t afford to be out ― but Tony makes him want the impossible.


Mac isn’t the only one with their eyes on Tony,
though. As the murderer tries to cover their tracks, Mac has to work fast or lose Tony,
permanently.


(This is a rerelease of the 2011 original with
light editing.)

Excerpt

Tony said after a pause. “You’re not the only person trapped in the closet. All those guys in
the military, stuck with don’task, don’t tell; other guys with macho jobs or religious families.
Lots of guys are doing it.”

“But you don’t want to,” Mac acknowledged.

“It wouldn’t be my first choice, no. I’ve put a lot of effort and pain into being out so I
wouldn’t have to hide. But I do want you, and I know that comes on your terms.”

“They’re not my terms,” Mac protested.

“Whatever. It comes with being secret and hiding whatever we have together. The question
is whether that’s better than not having anything together.”

Mac wanted to shout that of course it was, but he bit his tongue.

Tony looked at him hard. “The other question you have to ask yourself is whether
you want to take the risk. No matter how careful we are, you may get caught. A
wrong look, a note in your pocket, someone tracking down your cell in an emergency; there

are lots of ways this could come out in the open. It’s not a problem for me. But is that a risk
that you want to take?”

Mac opened his mouth to say yes, and hesitated. How have I come this far this
fast?
He’d been willing to cut away anything in his life that risked his daughter Anna
or the job. And sex had never been that important. But this wasn’t about sex; it was about
Tony. And Tony had somehow become too important to cut away. It might hurt less to
give up breathing.

“There’s never been anyone I could go to, to just be myself. I’ve never had a lover, or even a
fuck-buddy. I thought I could live without that, but now… I don’t want to. Even with Mai, I
wasn’t… I couldn’t relax completely. With you, I’m just me.”

“Yeah.” Tony smiled at him. “That’s part of being gay, you know. It’s not just who you want in
bed. It’s who your emotional relationships are with the other twenty-three hours of the day,
whose arms you want around you when life hands you shit.”

About the Author

I get asked about my name a
lot. It’s not something exotic, though. “Kaje” is pronounced just like “cage” – it’s an old
nickname, and my pronouns are she/her/hers. I’ve been writing far longer than I care to
admit (*whispers – forty-five years*), although mostly for my own entertainment. I write
M/M romance, often with added mystery, fantasy, historical, SciFi, paranormal… I also have
Young Adult short stories (some released under the pen name Kira Harp.)

After decades of writing just
for fun, my husband convinced me I really should submit something, somewhere. My first
professionally published book, Life Lessons, came out in May 2011. I now have a good-sized
backlist in ebooks and print, both free and professionally published, including Amazon
bestseller
The Rebuilding Year and Rainbow Award Best Mystery-Thriller Tracefinder: Contact.
A complete list with links can be found on my website “Books” page at
https://kajeharper.com/books/.

Social Media Links

Audible Profile | Blog/Website |
Newsletter Sign-up

Facebook | Facebook Group: Kaje’s Conversation
Corner

Goodreads Author page | BookBub

About the Narrator

JF
Harding Facebook Page
|
Facebook Group

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RELEASE BLITZ: ” T.A.G. You’re Found” by D.G. Carothers. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: T.A.G. You’re Found

Author: D.G.
Carothers

Cover Artist: Amai Designs,
Samantha Santana

Release Date: December 21,
2021

Genre: Action Adventure, Contemporary, Interracial Romance and
Mystery/Suspense

Tropes: Badass Heroes, Tricked into Blind Dates, Half Serious/Half Cheesy
Action Flick, Revenge Twist

Themes: Mafia v. Secret Organization, Assassin v. Assassin, Car Chase
Dates, Meddlesome Family, What happens in Vegas…

Heat Rating: 3
flames

Length: approx. 50 000
words

It is not a standalone story.

The Assassins’ Guild is a continuous series and must be
read in order.

T.A.G. You’re
Seen

T.A.G. You’re
Heard

T.A.G. Family
Christmas

T.A.G. You’re
Found

This book does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal link |
Amazon US | Amazon UK

BookFunnel

Are you ready for another
thrilling T.A.G. adventure?

Blurb

Agent code name Mr. Ti takes the lead in Operation
Cyberlick. (Note to self: Stop letting Connor name the operations)

Mr. Ti is hot on the trail of the Poacher, having finally
discovered his identity. A trap is laid, but will it get sprung?

Follow Mr. Ti as he hunts down his prey. But who is hunting
whom? And will love smack Mr. Ti in the butt face?

Find out this and more exciting answers to questions
lurking in the depths of your mind in this next archive from The Assassins’ Guild.

Attention: There is explicit language, violence, and
sexual content suitable only for mature audiences. Who are we kidding? Only on bad days
are we more mature than teenagers.

Excerpt – Nicola POV

I took the chair across from the slender, silver-haired older man with an uneasy smile.
“Good evening, Zio.”

“Nicola, you’re looking,” he scrutinized my appearance especially considering I had worn
jeans compared to his thousands of dollars bespoke suit, “underfed.” He waved at someone
behind me, and a bowl of the same soup Don Athos was eating appeared before me.

“Thank you, Zio.” Now that the food was in front of me, I realized I was famished. I didn’t
remember if I had eaten today. I picked up a spoon and took a bite of the hearty vegetable
soup.

“Your mother is worried about you.”

I snorted and finished my mouthful before speaking. “My mother is only worried about the

money I send her.” My mother wasn’t Don Athos’s sister, but our family had worked for the
Stagliano family for many generations. I grew up at the country estate with my brother and
cousins, calling Don Athos uncle.

“Don’t disrespect your mother, boy.” Despite Don Athos nearing seventy, he was still a
formidable man and not one to trifle with even if you didn’t know he was one of the most
powerful men in the world.

“I’m sorry, Zio.” I looked intently at my soup and took another bite. “Is she well?” I asked
after the silence continued.

“She is fine, just worried about her only remaining son.” He paused again. I was sure for
dramatic effect. There must be a school people like the capi went to that taught you how to
look intimidating when speaking and how to make grandiose speeches. “She tells me that
you took another trip out of the country.”

I nodded in confirmation because it was pointless to deny it. If he was coming to me with
this, he already knew where I was. I tore a piece of bread off the loaf on the table and
dipped it into the remaining bits of soup.

“I have told you to stop looking into the bombing. It is done and over. Nothing will come of
continuing down this road.” Don Athos’s voice softened. “Nico, I know you loved your
brother, and I am saddened by his loss as well as the loss of my son, may God rest their
souls, but he wouldn’t want you to continue on this way. He’d want you to finish school and
start your life the way you should have.”

“Zio, I’m so close to finding him. I finally know who bombed the hotel. And if I can just locate
them.” I leaned forward in my seat. I refused to believe that Enzo was dead. I couldn’t,
wouldn’t believe it until I heard it from the horse’s mouth.

“Stupido, do you think we don’t know who did it?” Don Athos whisper-yelled to not draw
more attention to our discussion. “Of course, we know.”

“Then why haven’t you asked The Assassins’ Guild about the abnormality in the account
about my brother or who hired them in the first place?” I tried to restrain myself from
raising my voice as I boldly called out the organization’s name that was only whispered of
like the Boogieman.

“You don’t understand, boy. You don’t just ask The Assassins’ Guild questions, and you never
ask who hired them. It’s a fool’s errand.” If I didn’t know him better, I’d say that he looked
scared just talking about them.

About the Author

D.G. Carothers is actually a dragon very cleverly disguised as a
human. They are a non-binary author of LGBTQIA Romance and Urban Fantasy, who enjoys
writing original and entertaining stories. They are very excited to share the worlds they’ve
created with you.

D.G. currently lives in
Tennessee with their platonic life partner, who is not a dragon. They yearn to live back in
Europe and will some day. In their spare time they are addicted to losing themselves in the
lovely worlds created by other authors


D.G. is committed to writing the stories they see in
their head without restrictions. Love is blind and doesn’t see gender, race, or
sexuality.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Twitter

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all three previous
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RELEASE BLITZ: “Seashell Virgin” by Steve Schatz. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Seashell
Virgin

Author: Steve
Schatz

Publisher: Any Summer
Sunday Books

Cover Artist: James –
GoOnWrite.com

Release Date: October 31,
2021

Genre: Humorous Mystery, Gay Friends, Drag

Tropes: Friends overcoming haters,

Themes: Empowering, humor

Heat Rating: 2
flames

Length: 85 000 words/ 288
pages

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

It is part of a series with
related characters and themes, but reading the other books in the series is not required.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Mystery, Wit &
Drag Queens

Blurb

Fast-paced fun. Touching and tawdry. Churchies, crooks,
and rapscallions scheme to close our only gay bar, rape a forest, and get rich with a

gay-hating charter school. Break-ins, kidnapping, threats, blackmail, bondage, and the most
spectacular drag show the world has ever seen, thrill and delight you as the anti-heroes
from Nacho Mama’s Patio Cafe once more answer the call to set things straight, as it
were.

Excerpt

Chapter 1 – Some Days Suck

Gone! A fourteen-foot truck packed to the tits with geegaws, gowns, and glamour—spirited
away. I had parked it right here, less than thirty minutes before, obvious as a zit on a first
date, across the street from Hoosier Daddy, the town’s only gay bar. Close, so when I got
stuck carrying everything TiaRa del Fuego chose into the dressing rooms backstage, I’d have
less of a struggle. I had already been far too butch for a day off. I had planned for a day full
of napping, occasional attempts at cleaning, some light reading, and more napping. Then
Beau showed up far too early and ever since, I had been far too active for someone of my
tender years and with my lack of motivation.

All that splendor had not just walked itself into the van. No, these arms, these legs, and this
back had been repeatedly besmirched by physical effort and all were letting their
displeasure be known. When I’d pulled up to the bar a few minutes earlier, I wanted,
needed, and deserved a drink, possibly two—while I described the glories that awaited in
the truck to TiaRa and Suave. Timmy had laid the groundwork and my ebullience had sealed
the deal. TiaRa had said she positively hungered for the gowns and baubles. Suave KitTan
had declared she already had a plan to sneak a quantity of the lovely things into her store,
Suave Delights, while evading the watchful eye of her devoted husband Foxy, who had once
again decreed no new stock was allowed until there were sales to match. Suave was always
much more interested in acquisition than disposition. All that remained between me and a
lovely lie down was the actual hand over. So, we went out to complete the exchange.
Simple. But there the truck wasn’t.

“Are you sure you parked it here?” asked TiaRa in much the same tone a mother uses when
asking, “Where did you see it last?”

Swallowing my frustration, I managed to contain my impulse to point out that my age and
mental abilities had not declined to such an extent that I would have forgotten where I had
parked the truck in such a short time. TiaRa, a delicate being, did not deserve snippy replies,
despite my rising alarm.

The truck had been either towed or stolen. One possibility was expensive, and the other
horrifying. I had just promised the contents to TiaRa and Suave and I hated to disappoint
them. Far worse, the truck was actually the property of my latest job. I had only recently

been given keys to the shop and knew where the keys to the truck were kept. No one had
been at work when Beau’s moving emergency arose. The truck wasn’t scheduled to be used,
so I had borrowed it without asking. I just left a note for Brian, the owner. I knew this was
generally acceptable. Others had done it, but I was new and hadn’t taken the liberty before.
If the truck was in any way damaged, I would be looking for a new job. If it had been stolen,
I might be looking for a lawyer. I do not handle stress well. My mouth tends to make talking
motions without actually forming words. Tia and Suave looked at me with growing concern.

Maybe the churchies, I thought.

About the Author

Steve Schatz writes with a
crazy mashup of laughs and excitement and humor. Readers can’t stop reading, but don’t
want the story to end. Each book is an adventure where endearing anti-heroes struggle
against this crazy world and triumph using the twin forces of intentional, creative action and
friends helping friends. Schatz draws on a lifetime of varied and fascinating experiences,
from instructional designer and college prof to party clown and nightclub
owner.

His series of adult fiction
highlights a group of middle-aged gay friends who gather every week in a small, Indiana
college town. Mixing drinks, snappy repartee, and the humor and joy of long-time friends, in
one book they rescue the fair drag queen from an obvious miscreant. In another, they ride
to the protection of a lesbian candidate for judge who is being targeted by mysterious
evil-doers. The excitement reveals itself against a backdrop of drag performance and efforts
by anti-heroes. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll beg for more. Steve Schatz offers a new voice
and a smile for the LGBT community and their friends.

Author Links

Blog/Website
|
Twitter: @AnySummerSunday

Facebook | Newsletter sign-up

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an ebook of each of the 3 books in the series

(Any Summer Sunday, Who
Plugged the Dyke, and Seashell Virgin)

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Genie in a Vodka Bottle” by Rob Rosen. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Genie in a Vodka Bottle

Author: Rob
Rosen

Publisher: JMS
Books

Release Date: November 6,
2021

Genre: Speculative M/M Romance, Mystery, Adventure

Tropes: Genie, Enemy to Friend, Magic

Themes: Searching for love, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 139 pages/56 000
words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play

A funny, frisky, and
frequently heart-pounding genie romance and adventure novel!

Blurb

Mysterious forces are at play when Paul’s vacation to Spain
unexpectedly detours to Gibraltar and then Morocco, to a vodka bottle in a hole in the wall
bar, to a handsome genie with a slew of secrets, plus almost limitless powers, virtually no
memory, and a keen desire to be freed from his curse. Along the way, Paul is reunited with
his ex-lover and the genie’s previous master as fate draws them ever deeper into a murky,
dangerous past.

On our heroes travel, from the frigid north of Russia to a
magic carpet ride across China, ultimately finding themselves in the deserts of ancient
Jordan. Here, they encounter another of the genie’s previous masters and a power far
greater than they could’ve ever imagined, all within a massive temple carved into a
mountainside. Can our intrepid foursome uncover the truth before the curse takes them all
and possibly the entire world down? Will love win out in the end? Or is the genie forever
doomed to a life foretold in fairy tales?

In this funny, frisky, and frequently heart-pounding
adventure, only one thing is for certain: magic can happen even without three
wishes.

Excerpt

The bottle was still in my hand. I reached for the cork. I
gave it a pull. It didn’t budge. I pulled again, harder this time. Nope, nothing. That cork
must’ve been in there a long, long time, I figured. I stood up, placed the bottle between my
knees, wiped the sweat from my palms and grabbed on tightly to the cork. Then, seeing as
where I was, grunted, “Open sesame,” and gave one final, massive yank.

POP went
the cork.

“Oh fuck,” went I.

I mean sure, the bottle was open, but, um, well, time was
suddenly standing still. Like totally still. Nothing was moving, not the fans, the waitress, not
Omar, who was pouring a drink that was suspended in midair. Though me, yeah, me I was
moving. Or least my heart was. Super-fast, in fact. Energizer Bunny fast.

“Oh fuck,” went I, yet again.

Because now the vodka bottle was pouring, only, it wasn’t
pouring vodka. And the pouring wasn’t obeying the laws of gravity because what was being
poured went out and up as opposed down and down some more. Plus, the vodka bottle

should have been pouring liquid but appeared to be pouring gas, a massive white cloud of it
tinged with swirls of various shades of blue and, if I wasn’t mistaken, which I wasn’t,
lightning. I mean, I knew lightning when I saw it, it’s just I’d never seen it being poured from
a vodka bottle before.

The cloud spread, the blue becoming purple, then red, then
all the colors of the rainbow at once. It looked like what you saw in an oil slick, greasy and
blending and bleeding. And then the room I was in was all cloud, and it was just me in the
cloud, me and the vodka bottle and the cloud of smoke and lightning and rainbow. The hairs
on my neck stood on end as I tried to take it all in, but how do you take in a cloud, especially
when it’s all around you, choking you, engulfing you completely as if it were a living,
breathing thing? And you could feel it, too. The power of it.

“Oh fuck,” went I for the third time. Because now I was not
alone in the cloud, and the eyes that had been staring back at me from the label on the
bottle were no longer on the bottle and were no longer the same eyes. And the face on the
bottle had a body, a different body, a new body, and the body was big, and the body was
torso on top and cloudy solidness down below, and the face was above mine, and the eyes
were staring down upon me, boring through me, piercing what felt like my very soul. Or
maybe that was me being a bit overdramatic, but how can you not be overdramatic at a
time such as that?

“Master,” boomed the voice that erupted forth from the
mouth in the face, the cloud all at once swept from the still-stagnant room. The half torso,
half solid cloud still floated above me, still churning in color and lightning and a slight
tremble of thunder that reminded me of our drive through Spain, me and Omar number
two.

“Paul,” I managed to squeak out.

The face tilted ever so slightly. “Paul? What is a Paul? I do
not know this word.” The voice again boomed, rattled my bones, shook the fillings in my
mouth. The voice was deep as the ocean, heavy as a boulder, pressing down upon me with
each vowel and syllable that was uttered.

“Paul,” I said, sitting back down in my chair. Or falling back
down in my chair. Probably the latter. “That is my name. Paul.”

The cloud-man craned down, the eyes barely a foot away.
“Paul,” came the voice in a whoosh that washed over me like a tidal wave, the exhale
smelling of spices and earth and incense. If you bottled it, it’d sell well. I had a bottle in
hand, but, like the room around me, I was sort of also frozen to the spot, and so bottling, at
least for the time being, seemed out of the question. “You have freed me, Master
Paul.”

I blinked. He did not. He had eyes the color of fresh moss,
skin the color of The Rock back in Gibraltar, perhaps a shade darker. He was shirtless, dense
with smooth muscle from chest to arms to hands to fingers. And despite the obvious power

of him, he looked young, my age, give or take. And as for the cloud below him, it swirled like
a cyclone, shooting off sparks as he hovered there. He was beautiful. He was fearsome. I
needed to pee. Badly.

About the Author

Rob Rosen is the author of
the award-winning novels
Sparkle: The Queerest Book You’ll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava,
Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort, Fate,
Midlife Crisis, Fierce, And God Belched, Mary, Queen of Scotch, Ted of the d’Urbervilles, Sort
of Dead,
and Genie in a Vodka Bottle, and editor of the anthologies Lust in
Time, Men of the Manor, Best Gay Erotica 2015,
and Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volumes
1, 2, 3
and 4.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website
|
Facebook

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an ebook copy of Genie in
a Vodka Bottle

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