NEW RELEASE: “Now Comes the Dark” by Thom Collins

 

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Now Comes the Dark

Author: Thom Collins

Publisher: Pride Publishing / Entwined Publishing

Cover Artist: Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Release Date: February 11, 2025

Pairing: Contemporary Dark MM Romance

Tense/POV: Third person

Genres: Thriller/Mystery/Suspense

Tropes: Instant lust, serial killer, community

Themes: Erotic thriller

Heat Rating:  4 flames  

Length: 63 000 words

It is the first book in a new series, but works as a complete standalone

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Link |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Two strangers fuelled by desire, and a killer consumed with lust.


Blurb

Roman Ballentyne is forced to make some changes. The city he loves is no longer safe. Tensions are high as a psychotic killer preys upon the LGBTQ community. Five men have been murdered in the last year. Every encounter is a risk. Anyone could be next. The Viaduct was once the shame of Blyham, an illicit club filled with private booths and dark rooms, sleazy in the extreme. Now it offers a secure space to hook up when it’s too dangerous to take a stranger home.

Mallon Garnier catches Roman’s eye. He’s moody and mature and the hottest man in the club, but as Mallon pairs up with someone else, Roman thinks he’s missed his chance. When Roman is the victim of a hate crime at the end of the night, Mallon is his saviour, taking on his attackers with savage efficiency. Their attraction is immediate and intense. Roman knows it’s wrong to go home with a stranger, but what harm can there be from the man who saved him?

The encounter is the start of an intense and passionate affair. But as the murders continue, Roman learns Mallon is keeping a deep secret, and the killer is closer than he thinks.

Excerpt 

Roman stared at the man who had saved him as they drove away. He tried to speak, but there were no words. His throat was paralysed.

“Come on,” the stranger said. “Before their egos get the better of them and they circle around for another shot.”

“The police,” Roman gasped at last. “You called the police.”

“No. I didn’t have time. And it turns out, I didn’t need them.” He took a gentle grip of Roman’s arm and led him back down the road. “Come on. The New Inn will still be open. We need to get off the streets for now.”

The man walked fast. Roman had trouble keeping up with him and couldn’t stop from looking over his shoulder to see if his attackers were following. The road was clear.

“Thank you,” he said at last. Now that the shock of the ordeal was sinking in, he felt a growing weakness all through his body. I could have died there. At best he’d have faced a trip to the hospital to fix several broken bones. Those men had been serious, and though he hadn’t paid attention to all the hate crimes that had occurred in Blyham, he knew how badly beaten the survivors had been. And five men hadn’t been lucky at all.

“Mallon,” the man said. “My name is Mallon. I couldn’t stand by and watch them get away with that.”

“Thank you,” he repeated. “I’m Roman. How…how did you do that? There were three of them. That could easily have ended differently.”

“Boxing. Boot camps. I’ve been a fighter since I was a boy.”

The New Inn was fifty yards ahead. Roman saw a group of customers outside, and relief rushed through him. People. His kind of people. They were safe—for now, at least.

He glanced at Mallon as they walked. His gaze was fixed in front. A man with purpose and determination. His expression was deadly serious, his jaw taut.

The New Inn was the most traditional of the bars in the village, with old wooden floors and dark wood panelling. The long, original bar led through to a more recent extension and conservatory with a beer garden. The DJ played a selection of songs from the 1970s and ’80s, while the clientele of older gays stood around chatting. The bar area was packed. Mallon guided Roman through the crowd to the near-empty beer garden. Efficient heaters kept the night chill at bay.

“Stay here,” Mallon said, releasing his arm once Roman was seated. “What do you want to drink?”

“Vodka. Diet Coke.”

Mallon nodded and left him.

Roman wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, despite the warmth. Fuck. He’d never experienced anything as frightening in his entire life. Like any gay man, he was used to homophobia, but the abuse he’d experienced in the past had always been verbal—name calling and hateful comments. This was the first time he’d been threatened with physical danger. And if Mallon hadn’t turned up when he did? Roman shuddered and his heart raced again.

About the Author 

Thom Collins is the author of the Jagged Shores series and the Anthem Trilogy as well as numerous standalone novels and novellas. 

His new series Basic Instincts launches in spring 2025 with the novel Now Comes the Dark.

Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonk-busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but in 2013 he realized cruising is the best way to see the world.

Check out his website for news updates and a free ebook The Night

Social Media Links

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Giveaway

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Ted of the d’Urbervilles” by Rob Rosen”

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Ted of the d’Urbervilles

Author: Rob Rosen

Publisher: JMS Books

Release Date: January 18, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance, Comedy/Humour, Erotic Romance, Dark Comedy, Gay/Straight romance

Themes: e.g. Personal growth, poor to rich

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 63 600 / 195 pages

It is a standalone story.

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | JMS Books | GooglePlay

Love is Love—though who they will find it with remains a mystery until the very end!

Blurb

Ted is an orphan, a young gay man living on the streets following the death of both his parents. Hope seems futile, though hope is exactly what he finds when a surprising email informs him that an unknown wealthy relative has died, that a reading of a will is soon to occur clear across the country. Ted will inherit something, but what that something is remains to be seen.

Benny is a young, homeless drug addict, straight except for when cash is involved. Benny has never had a reason to be hopeful about anything until a chance encounter with Ted.

Both men are soon traveling together from state to state, making ends meet however they can, rushing to the reading of the will that may or may not change both their lives forever. An unexpected friendship quickly forms, and then just as unexpectedly blossoms into something more as their adventure ultimately leads them to their fates.

At turns darkly funny and tragic, deeply erotic and poignant, Ted of the d’Urbervilles uniquely shines a light on the phrase Love is Love—though who they will find it with remains a mystery until the very end.

Excerpt

I found myself in a tangle of trains. Not passenger trains, but the kind that carries stuff. Coal, lumber, crates. No train cars. Nothing I could hop into so much as on. I wasn’t counting on this. I thought I’d slide open a door and bum a ride. But a ride to where? Even if I could hop on, where would I wind up? I clearly hadn’t given it enough thought. To be fair, my head was full of Chuck at the time, a peg missing its hole. It was, as analogies went, a fine one.

I needed to travel east. East I could figure out. East was away from the Rockies. But all the trains were parked. Which way were they headed once they left? And what if I hopped on and the train never stopped until its destination? What if we started east and then headed south?

I sat on the track. My salvation was somewhere in front of me. Eeny, meeny, miny, which one would the mo choose?

“Where you headed?”

I jumped. I fell backward. I stared up, shielding my face with my hand. A guy stood there staring down at me. He was on the dirty side, young, like me, gaunt, shorter by a foot. I’d seen men like this around San Francisco. I avoided men like this. You wound up homeless for a lot of reasons. You also stayed homeless for a lot of reasons. This guy either started or wound up that way because of drugs. His hand twitched. His right eye did the same. Manic would’ve been a good word for it. Or a bad one.

“Just looking,” I said as I righted my butt back on the tracks. “I like trains.”

I turned away from him. I hoped he’d take the hint. Sadly, he sat down next to me instead.

“You can’t hop them,” he said. “They check. They’re watching you right now even.” He pointed up to a lamppost. I could see the camera. It didn’t matter; there was nothing to hop into. And even if I could make it on top of a car, it would be crazy dangerous. And windy. And cold. Not an adventure so much as an ordeal. “Benny,” he said, holding out a hand. He had long nails. Dirty nails. His current state had always been a possible future for me. I seemed to always be running from it. But in which direction, away or towards?

I didn’t shake his hand. I nodded his way instead. “Ted.”

He put his hand by his side. He frowned. I felt bad. I was homeless. He was homeless. It wasn’t a bond so much as a prison sentence we shared. “Where you headed?” he repeated.

“New York.”

“That’s where I started.”

My heart pulsed. If he started from there, he knew which way to head. I pointed in front of me. “Which one goes that way?”

His grin returned. His teeth were in need of a brushing. He looked like a scrawny, shorter, pimplier Justin Bieber—if Justin Bieber hadn’t showered in a week or had a haircut or shave in ten. I felt bad for Benny. I felt scared of Benny. Were people scared of me when they saw me? I was judging a book by its cover, but covers are a pretty good indication of what’s inside. I sensed Benny was rotting from the inside out, that all he had left was a tattered cover. I didn’t want to be a part of Benny’s story, but our plotlines had intersected just the same.

In any case, he shrugged. “Been in Denver a month. My train has long come and gone.” Again, he pointed. “That one goes east.”

“How do you know?”

The shrug hadn’t moved. “That terminal is a dead end. Trains enter that way and go back the way they came. That train came from the east. Do you have any drugs on you?”

It was an unsettling segue. Benny was unsettling. You could turn a bend and wind up like Benny. Benny had no hope. You could see it in his eyes. That is to say, you couldn’t see it. “I don’t do drugs.”

“Smart.”

“You shouldn’t do drugs.”

He rested his head on his knee. “Yep.”

“It’s not that easy though, right?”

He turned his face my way. He’d been cute once. You could see it if you tried. How many people still tried? “Nope. Any money for drugs? I could trade you.”

I knew what he had to trade. I had the same thing to trade. “I have less than six dollars on me.”

He sighed. He turned his face back to the starting position. “Figures.” We sat there in silence. The trains didn’t budge. Maybe this was a graveyard of sorts. Maybe trains came here to die. Maybe Benny came here to die. Me, I had other plans.

About the Author

Multi-award-winning and best-selling author/editor/anthologist Rob Rosen is the author of 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, and Ted of the d’Urbervilles. His short stories have appeared in more than 200 anthologies. You can find 20 of them in his erotic romance anthology Good & Hot. He is also the editor of Lust in Time: Erotic Romance Through the Ages, Men of the Manor, Best Gay Erotica 2015 and Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volumes 1, 2, 3 and 4.

Please visit him at

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