RELEASE BLITZ: “The Queering” by Brooke Skipstone

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Queering

Author and Publisher: Brooke Skipstone

Cover Artist: Cherie Chapman

Release Date: January 19, 2023

Genre: Contemporary F/F Romance, Historical F/F Romance, YA LGBTQ+

Tropes: Friends to lovers, Coming of age

Themes: Coming out, finding love late in life

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 92 000 words/ 318 pages

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

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

Trapped between a homicidal brother and a homophobic podcaster eager to reveal her lesbian romance novels, a seventy-year-old grandmother seeks help in Clear, Alaska.

 

Blurb

Editor’s Pick Booklife Reviews: A fast-paced yet thoughtful romance of coming out and finding love in later life in Alaska

5 Star Clarion Reviews: A riveting novel . . . about love, courage, and solidarity


Trapped between a homicidal brother and a homophobic podcaster eager to reveal her lesbian romance novels, a seventy-year-old grandmother seeks help in Clear, Alaska.

Suffocating in a loveless marriage and lonely existence, Taylor MacKenzie lives only through her writing, using the pen name Brooke Skipstone, her best friend in college and lover before her death in 1974.

Afraid of being murdered before anyone in her family or community knows her life story, Taylor writes an autobiography about her time with Brooke and shares it with those closest to her, hoping for understanding and acceptance.

Accused of promoting the queering and debasement of America by a local podcaster, Taylor embroils the conservative community in controversy but fights back with the help of a new, surprising friend.

Can she endure the attacks from haters and gaslighters? Can she champion the queering she represents?

And will she survive?

 

Excerpt

NO ONE in the world is actually named Brooke Skipstone.

Not for almost fifty years.

Taylor Baird MacKenzie, a long-term substitute teacher in Clear, Alaska, knew her secret had already begun to unravel. Brooke wrote novels about lesbian liberation, fierce coming-of-age stories full of high family drama. Her readers probably pictured an author in her thirties with tattoos and a gender-fluid appearance.

Certainly not a seventy-year-old grandmother with long, thick hair—still more brown than gray—wearing lined leggings and an oversized hoodie that covered her butt. And unhappily married to the same man for over forty years.

Much too old and too obviously straight to be writing such novels.

Soon, everyone would know the truth—she was the author Brooke Skipstone. How big would the shockwave be?

Taylor had long feared the repercussions and kept her pen name secret. What would her kids say? And her grandkids, who hardly knew her because she lived so far from them. And saw them even less than usual because of Covid. At times the thought of discovery had seared her guts, but the liberation of writing what she wanted, revealing the characters living in her mind and the love and pain in her heart, had become her main reason for existence.

While at her keyboard, Taylor lost herself in her secret world—vibrant, passionate, full of laughter and turmoil and utter joy. Not like her real world of silence and numbing isolation, where she couldn’t talk about what mattered most to her.

Keeping the source of her greatest happiness a secret had suffocated her life.

Taylor stood at her classroom door before her last class of the day, while students thumbed phones and talked as they sat at a picnic table in the center of the Commons area. The same kind of table she and Brooke sat at in the spring of 1973.

 

Soon after Taylor’s college roommate and fellow theatre major, Brooke Tobolovsky turned twenty-one, Brooke changed her last name. Though she didn’t have the internet to check, she said she had never heard of anyone named Skipstone, so claimed it for herself. She thought it sounded cool. Much better for the stage and screen. Besides, she’d always hated the sound of Tobolovsky.

Regardless of her name, no one could ever forget her. Long, thick, cinnamon-colored hair; high forehead; deep-set blue eyes; and the biggest smile Taylor had ever seen. She could play Lady Macbeth just as easily as Juliet and belt out a song like a combination of Cher and Stevie Nicks. She was the natural lead, while Taylor was the utility player—competent actress, writer, composer, and organizational queen.

Once all the legal papers were complete, they celebrated with a pitcher of beer at The Hangout a few blocks from Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Texas. They sat at a picnic table under canvas stretched between oak trees, blocking the March sun. Brooke carved her new name on the bench as they pushed flip-flops through pea gravel and peanut shells.

“Does this mean I can’t call you Tobo anymore?” Taylor laughed and snorted beer.

Brooke scoffed with a quick flash of her eyes, “I’ve put a curse on that name, as you can see. Say it at your peril.” She cocked an eyebrow.

Taylor coughed this time, spewing beer on her shirt.

“I always knew you couldn’t hold your liquor.” Brooke wiped Taylor’s chin with a napkin.

“That word will never cross my lips again.”

“Which word?” Brooke teased. Her tongue peeked out the side of her mouth as she dabbed the snot from Taylor’s upper lip. “Hmm?”

Flashing a smile, Taylor said, “From now on, you’ll be BS to me. Nothing but BS.”

Brooke narrowed her eyes and tightened her mouth. “You’d better be referring to Brooke Skipstone.”

Taylor raised her hands and cocked her head in a perfect expression of amused innocence. “Certainly.” She tried to swallow the guffaw rising from her gut. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

They stared at each other for three seconds, each holding her pose until Brooke broke into a smile. “That’s BS and you know it.”

Taylor’s guffaw erupted, and in their laughter-filled haze, they both knocked their glasses to the ground. No matter. They drank from the pitcher and later started a burping contest. Taylor conceded when Brooke burped the chorus of “I Am Woman,” earning a standing ovation from the crowd of hippie students and locals that had gathered around them. The girls walked home, Taylor’s arm around her friend’s neck; Brooke’s around the other’s waist.

They were known as B&T because they were inseparable. They’d shared the ground floor of a small rental house since sophomore year but spent most of their time acting, hanging lights, building sets, and running shows at the Owens Art Center. If one of them wasn’t around the other, people would invariably ask, “Where’s ___?” with a little frown and gasp.

Taylor wrote and directed plays and musicals mainly for teens, while Brooke snagged major acting roles every year. Taylor was involved in every one of Brooke’s shows, while Brooke sang and acted in each of Taylor’s studio productions.

They were two promising women, determined to make their own way in the world and support each other’s careers in theatre—Brooke as an actress at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland and Taylor as a drama teacher at a private school in a nearby city. After breaking up with their casual boyfriends and graduating in 1974, they headed west in a very used VW Camper Bus adorned with painted flowers to cover the rust.

They loved each other completely as friends and had only become lovers two days before Brooke’s death.

 

About the Author

Brooke Skipstone is a multi-award-winning author who lives in Alaska where she watches the mountains change colors with the seasons from her balcony. Where she feels the constant rush toward winter as the sunlight wanes for six months of the year, seven minutes each day, bringing crushing cold that lingers even as the sun climbs again. Where the burst of life during summer is urgent under twenty-four-hour daylight, lush and decadent. Where fish swim hundreds of miles up rivers past bear claws and nets and wheels and lines of rubber-clad combat fishers, arriving humped and ragged, dying as they spawn. Where danger from the land and its animals exhilarates the senses, forcing her to appreciate the difference between life and death. Where the edge between is sometimes too alluring.


The Queering is her fifth novel. Visit her website at for information about her first four novels—The Moonstone Girls, Crystal’s House of Queers, Some Laneys Died, and Someone To Kiss My Scars.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Instagram

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: “I Saw Mommy Kissing the Nanny” by Shannon O’Connor. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: I Saw Mommy
Kissing the Nanny (
An FF Holiday
Romance)

Author and Publisher: Shannon O’Connor

Cover Artist: Alt19
Creative

Release Date: December 15,
2022

Genre: Contemporary FF
Romance

Tropes: Holiday Romance,
Nanny/Parent, Single Mom, love after divorce

Themes: Holiday Romance,
love after divorce

Heat Rating: 4
flames

Length: 60 000 words/225
pages

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

Goodreads

 

Pre-Order/Buy Links

Universal Link

 

An FF Holiday
Romance

 

Blurb

Morgan loves three things; Books, women, and being
single. But when Grad school costs more than her rent, she needs to come up with a way to
make some money and fast. After a one-night stand with a beautiful woman, she wakes the
next morning in a hurry to make it to her interview as a live-in nanny.

Despite acing the interview, she has to pass one final test;
meeting the mother—who just so happens to be her one-night stand. They both decide to
call it a one-night thing and move forward, with Morgan becoming her son’s nanny.

As a divorced, single mom Lucy can get all the help she
needs. But as the mistletoe is hung and the stockings are filled, are sparks flying too? As Lucy
begins to fall for her son’s nanny, she shows her love in a series of her favorite books.
Counting down the 24 days of Christmas with Morgan, by trying to tell her how she feels,
worried she doesn’t feel the same.

Morgan devours each book, desperate to know if Lucy is
sending her a sign. But as Christmas approaches, will each woman get what they want? Or
will they be stuck out in the cold as the days of Morgan’s nannying contract are up?

 

About the Author

Shannon O’Connor is a twenty-something, bisexual, self-published poet of several books and
counting. She released her first novel, Electric Love in 2021 and is currently working on
several sapphic romance novels. She believes there is a lack of positive Female/Female
romances in the world, and wants to make them more accessible. She is often found in
coffee shops, probably writing about someone she shouldn’t be.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Facebook Group

Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up

 

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Giveaway for a chance to win

a $25 Amazon Gift
Card

a
Rafflecopter giveaway

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Continue ReadingRELEASE BLITZ: “I Saw Mommy Kissing the Nanny” by Shannon O’Connor. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

COVER REVEAL: “I Saw Mommy Kissing the Nanny” by Shannon O’Connor. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: I Saw Mommy
Kissing the Nanny (
An FF Holiday
Romance)

Author and Publisher: Shannon O’Connor

Cover Artist: Alt19
Creative

Release Date: December 8,
2022

Genre: Contemporary FF
Romance

Tropes: Holiday Romance,
Nanny/Parent, Single Mom, love after divorce

Themes: Holiday Romance,
love after divorce

Heat Rating: 4
flames

Length: 60 000 words/225
pages

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

Goodreads

 

Pre-Order Links

Pre-Order here

It will be a wide preorder
& in KU 1 week after release

 

An FF Holiday
Romance

 

Blurb

Morgan loves three things; Books, women, and being
single. But when Grad school costs more than her rent, she needs to come up with a way to
make some money and fast. After a one-night stand with a beautiful woman, she wakes the
next morning in a hurry to make it to her interview as a live-in nanny.

Despite acing the interview, she has to pass one final test;

meeting the mother—who just so happens to be her one-night stand. They both decide to
call it a one-night thing and move forward, with Morgan becoming her son’s nanny.

As a divorced, single mom Lucy can get all the help she
needs. But as the mistletoe is hung and the stockings are filled, are sparks flying too? As Lucy
begins to fall for her son’s nanny, she shows her love in a series of her favorite books.
Counting down the 24 days of Christmas with Morgan, by trying to tell her how she feels,
worried she doesn’t feel the same.

Morgan devours each book, desperate to know if Lucy is
sending her a sign. But as Christmas approaches, will each woman get what they want? Or
will they be stuck out in the cold as the days of Morgan’s nannying contract are up?

 

About the Author

Shannon O’Connor is a twenty-something, bisexual, self-published poet of several books and
counting. She released her first novel, Electric Love in 2021 and is currently working on
several sapphic romance novels. She believes there is a lack of positive Female/Female
romances in the world, and wants to make them more accessible. She is often found in
coffee shops, probably writing about someone she shouldn’t be.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Facebook Group

Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up

 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter
Giveaway for a chance to win

a $25 Amazon Gift
Card

a
Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions




Continue ReadingCOVER REVEAL: “I Saw Mommy Kissing the Nanny” by Shannon O’Connor. $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

BOOK BLAST: “Unexpected Departure” by Shannon O’Connor. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Unexpected
Departure

Author and Publisher:
Shannon O’Connor

Cover Artist: M Leigh
Morhaime of Lost Marbles Designs

Release Date: April 21,
2022

Genres: Contemporary F/F
Romance, Women’s Fiction

Tropes: Slow
Burn

Themes: Love after loss,
losing a parent, self-love, self-acceptance

Length: 42 000 words/ 160
pages

Heat Rating: 1
flame

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

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

Will she be able to
confront her past, learn to move on, and learn to love herself?

Blurb

Riley is stuck —in a job she hates, a toxic relationship, and
in life. She knows the relationship is bad for her, but she also can’t seem to let her go. After
catching her girlfriend cheating,
again, she finds comfort at her favorite
bar, with her best friend by her side.

After punching someone in the face and meeting a

mysteriously gorgeous bartender, Riley thinks things may be changing. Sawyer is
adventurous, sexy, and confident— all the things Riley yearns to be. And a sunrise
motorcycle ride starts to give her hope that things can change.

When she suddenly gets a phone call from her brother, she
discovers her estranged mother is dying. After almost a decade of silence, she’s forced to
return to her small homophobic hometown, say goodbye, and confront her demons.

Will she be able to confront her past, learn to move on, and
learn to love herself?

 

Excerpt

“Wanna dance?” We both turn and see a greasy guy at least twice our age. I bask in the
audacity of men.

“NO THANKS!” I shout back over the loud music.

He ignores me and starts grinding on Luna’s ass and her eyes almost pop out of her head.
She politely tries to move away but he follows her, keeping his body pinned to hers. Luna
mouths ‘help’ so I try to pull her away.

“WE DON’T WANNA DANCE!.” I yell at the guy. What the hell is wrong with men?

He either doesn’t hear me or he doesn’t seem to care because he grabs Luna’s other arm.
She tries to get out of his grasp and he just laughs, enjoying her squirming. I turn to face this
guy now. He’s barely an inch taller than me, with sweat stains under his armpits and oily
black hair.

“We said NO! Now let go of my friend.” I am nose to nose with this guy and he still doesn’t
let go.

“What are you going to do about it?” He laughs, and I can smell the onions he had for dinner
on his breath.

Without hesitating, I take a step back as if I’m going to walk away before turning around at
the last second and punching him square in the jaw. He stumbles backward, surprised by my
strength and action. He falls to the ground, the crowd backing up to avoid catching him. He
looks stunned for a moment before he looks angry.

I grab Luna’s hand and try to maneuver out of the crowd. We need to get out of here as fast
as we can. Let me just say trying to run through a crowd of people, wearing heels, while half-
drunk, and pulling your fully drunk best friend on your arm is not an easy feat.

I turn back to see if he’s still following us, giving me a second to catch my breath. He’s still
halfway across the club but he seems to be looking for us, so I hold on tighter to Luna and
pull her toward the exit. Only when I feel the cool breeze on my bare legs do I feel safe. We
walk to get out of the way of people to where we can take a second to breathe.

“Dude, are you okay?” Luna’s eyes are wide and that’s when I finally realize the impact of my
punch. My fist is starting to swell and my knuckles are quickly turning purple; only now do I
feel how bad that hurt.

“Jeez, I wouldn’t wanna be on the other end of that hand.” The voice comes from next to us
and I look up curiously.

A woman about our age is leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette, looking like
something out of a magazine. She’s wearing tight dark jeans and a low cut opened floral
button-down. Her blonde hair is slicked back like Danny Zuko from Grease. She’s
gorgeous. Where did she come from?

“They had it coming,” I mumbled instantly, losing my confidence.

“They did,” Luna confirms. I try to flex my fist and wince in pain. Shit, did I break
something?

“Want some ice?” The mystery woman puts out her cigarette and motions for us to follow
her.

I look at Luna and we both shrug, following the woman into the side entrance of Puzzles.

 

About the Author

Shannon O’Connor is a twenty-something, bisexual, self-published poet of several books and
counting. She released her first novel, Electric Love in 2021 and is currently working on
several sapphic romance novels. She believes there is a lack of positive Female/Female
romances in the world, and wants to make them more accessible. She is often found in
coffee shops, probably writing about someone she shouldn’t be.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Facebook Group

Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up

 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter
Giveaway for a chance to win

one of five ebook copies of
Only for the Summer

a
Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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Continue ReadingBOOK BLAST: “Unexpected Departure” by Shannon O’Connor. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ: “The Moonstone Girls” by Brooke Skipstone. $20.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Moonstone Girls

Author: Brooke
Skipstone

Publisher: Skipstone
Publishing

Cover Artist: Cherie
Chapman

Release Date: Feb 14,
2022

Genre: Historical (1967/68) F/F romance

Themes: Coming out, Rejection,
Forgiveness

The story is full of drama, heartache, humor, and hope, set
against the backdrop of the late ’60s—the Vietnam War and the draft, racial prejudice,
homophobia, and a revolution in music.”

Queer rep: lesbian main
character, lesbian and gay side characters

Trigger Warnings:
homophobia, internalized homophobia, slurs, death, suicide, car accident, insensitive
language/jokes, PTSD.

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 103 500 words/ 338
pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle
Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

In 1968, a
seventeen-year-old queer girl traveled to Alaska disguised as a boy.

Blurb

Tracy should have been a boy. Even her older brother
Spencer says so, though he wouldn’t finish the thought with, “And I should have been a girl.”

Though both feel awkward in their own skin, they have to
face who they are—queers in the late 60s.

When both are caught with gay partners, their lives and
futures are endangered by their homophobic father as their mother struggles to defend
them.

While the Vietnam War threatens to take Spencer away,
Tracy and her father wage a war of their own, each trying to save the sweet, talented
pianist.

At seventeen, Tracy dresses as a boy and leaves her parents
in turmoil, with only the slimmest hope of finding peace within herself. She journeys to a girl
with a guitar, calling to her from a photo, “Come to Alaska. We’d be great friends.”

Maybe even The MoonStone Girls.

Excerpt

Hours later, after I’d practiced piano, had a few arguments
about the war at dinner, and listened to complaints from Mom about Spencer’s continued
absence, I slipped into my pajamas and tried to stay awake, listening to “19
th Nervous Breakdown”
from the Stones’
Big Hits album.

Something stumbled against my door. I heard Spencer cuss.
I ran to the door and yanked it open just as my very drunk brother rapped his knuckles
against the air.

“Whoa,” he said. “Where’d the door go? Hey, Sis.”

He wobbled just outside my room with a lopsided grin on
his face then put his finger to his lips. “Shhhh. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m drunk.” He
giggled.

“No shit.” I put his arm over my shoulder and turned him
around. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Whaa . . . No.” He jerked his arm away and banged it into
the wall. “Ouch. Why’d you hit me?”

“You hit the wall, Spencer. Get to bed before you wake up
Mom and Dad.”

He put his hands on my shoulders and his face an inch from
mine. “You need to meet Pablo. He’s outside.”

“He drove you home?”

“Yeah. He thought I was too drunk to drive.” He breathed
and giggled. “He’s a really nice guy. We had a good time.”

I laughed, trying not to pass out from the alcohol fumes.
“Evidently.” I had never seen Spencer drunk. Dad would let us drink wine at dinner
sometimes. Maybe share a beer between us. But Spencer was never that interested.
Probably because Dad said a man’s got to learn how to hold his liquor. “What did you
drink?”

His eyes crossed. “Tequila. Oh, that’s the best. From itsy
bitsy glasses.”

“A shot glass?”

He held his hand like a pistol. “Bang. Bang. Shot after shot.
C’mon, you need to meet him.”

I helped him down the stairs. He tiptoed to the foyer then
grabbed the front door handle. Red lights flashed through the glass at the top of the
door.

“Cops?” I helped him open the door, and we both stared at
a policeman with his foot on the back of a young man, spread-eagled in our yard.

“Don’t you move, son,” yelled the officer.

Spencer’s eyes bulged as he screamed, “What are you
doing?” He ran toward the officer.

Somebody’s going to get shot! I followed. “Spencer! Stop!”

“He’s my friend!” He pushed the cop nearly to the ground
then bent down to help Pablo.

I ran to the officer whose hand moved toward his holster.
“That’s my brother’s friend. He drove my brother home and was waiting to meet me.” I
stood between him and the boys, holding my arms up, gasping for breath.

The man looked at me. “You live here?”

“Yes, with Spencer and my parents.”

Pablo was on his knees crying. “I thought he was going to
kill me.”

Spencer knelt and pulled Pablo to his chest. “You’re safe.
You’re safe.” He bent down to pick up Pablo’s white beret, brushed it off, and set it on his
head.

Pablo was thin and shorter than Spencer. His mouth hung
open as he gasped for breath; his face was wet with tears.

Spencer clutched the boy against his chest and glared at
the cop. “What did he do?”

“He was a Mexican outside our house at midnight,” I said.
“Right, Officer?”

The man tightened his eyes at me. “I’ve never seen him in
this neighborhood. He looked suspicious.”

“Suspiciously brown?” I barked.

“That’s enough, Tracy,” said Dad, tying his robe, as he
strode down our walkway. “I’m Arthur Franks. This is my house. Did the boy do anything
wrong?”

“He looked like he was trying to get inside that car, and I
knew it wasn’t his.”

Pablo’s voice cracked. “I wanted my cigarettes. I just
wanted to smoke a cigarette. ¿Qué carajo?”

I hoped the cop didn’t speak Spanish because Pablo had
just said “What the fuck?”

“Are we done?” I asked.

The officer rested his hand on his pistol. “You sure you want
this kid in your yard, Mr. Franks?”

“No, I’m not, but he’ll be gone soon. We’ll take it from here,
Officer.”

“Okay, but if you need anything, just call dispatch. I can be
back here quick.” He shot Pablo one last glare before sliding into his Castle Hills patrol car
and drove away.

“Where have you been, Spencer?” Dad growled. “And do I
smell alcohol on you?”

“If your nose works,” Spencer giggled. “We stayed at Dr.
Sorel’s for a while then went to Pablo’s cousin’s house. I think I had one too many shots of
tequila.” He giggled again.

“Maybe two too many,” laughed Pablo with a thick
accent.

“You said tutu!” Spencer laughed.

“No, I said two too,” laughed Pablo as he playfully patted
Spencer’s face.

“Jesus,” Dad muttered as he folded his arms and glared at
the two boys.

About the Author

Brooke Skipstone is a
multi-award winning author who lives in Alaska where she watches the mountains change
colors with the seasons from her balcony. Where she feels the constant rush toward winter
as the sunlight wanes for six months of the year, seven minutes each day, bringing crushing
cold that lingers even as the sun climbs again. Where the burst of life during summer is
urgent under twenty-four-hour daylight, lush and decadent. Where fish swim hundreds of
miles up rivers past bear claws and nets and wheels and lines of rubber-clad combat fishers,
arriving humped and ragged, dying as they spawn. Where danger from the land and its
animals exhilarates the senses, forcing her to appreciate the difference between life and
death. Where the edge between is sometimes too alluring.

The MoonStone
Girls
is her fourth novel. Visit her website at
brookeskipstone.com for information about her first three novels—
Crystal’s House of Queers, Some Laneys Died, and Someone To Kiss
My Scars
.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website |

Instagram

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter
Giveaway for a chance to win

a $20 Amazon gift
card

a Rafflecopter
giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Continue ReadingRELEASE BLITZ: “The Moonstone Girls” by Brooke Skipstone. $20.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

BOOK BLAST: “Finding Sarah” by Aprille Caniff

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Finding Sarah

Author: Aprille
Canniff

Publisher: Fulton
Books

Release Date: August 26,
2021

Genre: Romance, F/F Romance

Tropes: Trauma, New Girl in Town

Themes: Internal Struggle, Relationship, Love

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 60 000 words/ 187
pages

The book ends on a
cliffhanger.
There is a follow-on book
coming.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

The past has left her
scarred and broken, but does she have the strength to risk her heart on the
future?

Blurb

When Sarah steps off the plane in Provincetown, she has
only one goal—to leave the past behind her. As she begins her journey of rediscovering

herself, she meets one of the town’s deputies under less-than-ideal circumstances but soon
finds herself drawn to her in ways she knows she can’t allow.

Deputy Catrina Diaz loves her job, her family, and her
friends, which is why she became a deputy to begin with, to keep her town and those she
loves safe. When she crosses paths with Sarah, a newcomer to town, she finds herself
wanting more than Sarah is wanting to give.

Sarah fights hard to find herself as the past keeps finding
new ways to haunt her. As their relationship grows, will the secrets Sarah is hiding, secrets
that Cat realizes everyone knows but her, finally pull them apart? Can Sarah trust Cat
enough to overcome her past and the insecurities it has caused and take a chance on the
one thing she thought she could never have again-love?

Excerpt

Grateful for the privacy, Sarah sat down, facing Cat on the
couch. “Cat, I don’t want you to think…” Sarah paused, struggling to find the words to
explain.

“What? That you’re avoiding me?” Cat reached over and
took Sarah’s hand, their fingers automatically intertwining. “Sarah, I like you. I like spending
time with you.”

Sarah was overcome with sadness. “Cat, we can’t.”

“Give me one good reason why.”

A tear slid down her cheek as she spoke the simple truth
that had consumed her since she had met Cat. “Because I’m broken, and you deserve
better.”

Cat reached over and gently wiped the errant tear away
from Sarah’s cheek. “We are all broken in some way, but that doesn’t mean we can’t help
each other to heal.”

Sarah shook her head, frustrated for what she wanted and
for what she could never have. “Cat, you don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t, but I’m willing to wait until you are ready to
tell me. Until then…” Cat leaned forward and gently, almost shyly, placed a soft kiss on
Sarah’s lips. The feel of Sarah’s lips flooded her senses and filled her with a warmth so
intense she finally understood what all the romance novels were talking about. She
understood what it meant to fall with one simple kiss. “I want to spend time getting to know
the Sarah you are wanting to become.”

Sarah did her best to fight back and hide the feelings she
had for Cat, but that kiss, how could she hold back now? That one simple kiss tore down the
walls she had built to protect herself and others. She had to do what was right and stop this
before it got out of control, but what her mind wanted was overridden by her heart,
surprising even herself. “Cat, I don’t know if I could handle you walking away if you find out
what happened to me. I’m telling you, it’s horrible, and it’s not something you can
unsee.”

It broke Cat’s heart to see the tears that were now flowing
freely down Sarah’s cheeks. She wanted to erase the past and the hurt it had caused her.
Instead, she pulled Sarah into her arms and held her as she cried. “I see you for who you
are, and that’s all that matters. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

Sarah wanted to say no because she couldn’t take anymore
hurt or disappointment in her life, but the longer Cat held her, the harder it was to fight.
Finally, she dried her eyes and sat up. “Maybe…”

About the Author

Aprille Canniff retired from
the military after 24 years of service and has deployed to multiple Middle Eastern locations
throughout her military career. She is a full-time Deputy Sheriff who loves her job and
wakes up every morning ready for another day. Her passions include fishing as a catch and
release type girl and hiking with her wife. Her two cats determine the pace of her future
books so she never gives a timeline for completion.

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BOOK BLAST: “You’ll be fine” by Jen Michalski. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: You’ll Be Fine

Author: Jen
Michalski

Publisher: NineStar
Press

Cover Artist: Natasha
Snow

Release Date: August 2,
2021

Genres: Contemporary F/F Romance, Family comedy, trans
character

Tropes: Comedy of errors, love triangle

Theme: Forgiveness

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 77 900 words/ 343
pages

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

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Publisher | B&N

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Second chances don’t


mean repeating the same mistakes

Blurb

After Alex’s mother passes away, Alex takes leave from her
job as a writer for a lifestyle magazine to return home to Maryland and join her brother
Owen, a study in failure to launch, in sorting out their mother’s whimsical, often
self-destructive, life.

While home, Alex plans to profile Juliette Sprigg, an Eastern
Shore restaurant owner and celebrity chef in the making who Alex secretly dated in high
school. And when Alex enlists the help of Carolyn, the editor of the local newspaper, in
finding a photographer for the article’s photo shoot, Alex struggles with the deepening,
tender relationship that blossoms between them as well.

To complicate matters, Alex and Owen’s “Aunt” Johanna,
who has transitioned to a woman, offers to come from Seattle to help with arrangements,
and all hell breaks loose when she announces she is actually Alex and Owen’s
long-estranged father. Can Alex accept her mother and father for who they are, rather than
who she hoped they would be? And can Alex apply the same philosophy to herself?

“An enjoyable story about an adult trying to grow up.” –
Kirkus Reviews

 

 

Excerpt

The last time she’d seen Juliette was high school
graduation. They hadn’t spoken for weeks, and their last names—Sprigg and
Maas—ensured they’d be nowhere near each other in the audience of graduating seniors.
Alex had told Owen and her mother to meet her in the parking lot after the ceremony. She
had no intention of lingering in the high school gym, drinking fruit punch and eating sheet
cake emblazoned with GO SENIORS and CONGRATULATIONS with the other kids who’d
treated her like she was some highly contagious lesbian fungus.

She’d gotten through the first row of cars and spotted her
mother in the fourth row, near the exit, leaning against their Subaru. Her mother wore Ray
Bans and a black fedora, her arms crossed like she was the third Blues Brother or had
materialized from some mid-80s new wave music video. As Alex raised her hand to wave to
her, she felt another hand on her shoulder.

“Alex.” It was Juliette’s mother, Barbara Sprigg. She wore a
floral print dress with a ruffled collar. A small crucifix hugged her thick neck. Her hair was
red like Juliette’s but her face ruddier, plastered with freckles. She smiled. “You’re in a hurry!

Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” Alex glanced over Mrs. Sprigg’s shoulder, saw
Juliette, still in her graduation gown, lagging behind with her father and little sister. “My
mom is taking us out to dinner.”

“Oh, I won’t keep you.” Mrs. Sprigg said, clasping Alex’s
forearm as she did so. “You haven’t been by the house for a long time—Juliette says you’ve
been so busy getting ready for Swarthmore. I’m sure your mother is so proud.”

“Uh huh.” Alex nodded. “I know Juliette is excited to go to
Eastern Shore State.”

“Well, she’s⎯” Mrs. Sprigg glanced over her shoulder,
“never been much of the academic type. I’m just glad I taught her to bake.”

“It’s a shame they didn’t let you guys supply the cakes.”
Juliette’s mother ran a bake shop in town. Even now, she smelled faintly of sugar and
frosting.

“Well, they wanted some asinine discount,” Mrs. Sprigg
snorted. “Because Juliette is a student. Fine, but a 50% discount?”

“It was very nice to talk to you.” Alex tugged her arm away
gently. “But I’ve got to go.”

“Is everything okay at home now, dear?” Mrs. Sprigg
looked in the direction of the Subaru.

“Yes, why?” Alex glanced at Juliette again, her dark red hair,
the few strands that stuck to her lip gloss. Alex wondered if the lip gloss smelled like mint, or
strawberry. She wondered how Juliette’s hair would feel splayed between her fingers at that
moment.

“Okay. I’m glad.” Mrs. Sprigg nodded, and Alex wondered
what Juliette had told her. There was a lot, she thought, she could tell Mrs. Sprigg about
Juliette.

They embraced, a half, light, back-patting hug, their cheeks
brushing.

“Stay away from my daughter,” Mrs. Sprigg murmured into
Alex’s ear. Then, as if nothing happened, Mrs. Sprigg waved vigorously and went to join the
rest of the Spriggs. Stunned, Alex watched them walk toward their Buick. Before they
reached it, Juliette turned her head, her mouth parted, her eyes searching Alex’s. Alex
wondered, for a moment, if she had been too hasty, too harsh, to Juliette, if there was
something salvageable between them.

No, she decided. Her life after high school would be
awesome, and she wouldn’t remember Juliette any more than their high school mascot or
her mom’s boyfriend Lewis. She held up her hand to Juliette, as if to wave. Instead, she gave
her the finger and joined Owen and her mother at the other side of the parking lot.

“Did you just flip someone off?” Her mother lowered her
sunglasses. Her hazel eyes bored into Alex with an unwavering intensity of a gamma ray. “At
graduation?”

“It was Juliette,” Alex murmured, shaking her head. In her
new life, she would be more mature. She felt fears in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have. I
just—”

“Are you kidding?” Her mother grabbed Alex by the
shoulders and looked up at her. She grinned. Alex noted her mother had borrowed her
lipstick. “I’m more proud of that than your stupid diploma.”

Her mother pulled a pack of Benson & Hedges out of
her dark cotton blazer with the rolled-up sleeves and tapped out a cigarette.

“Smoke?” She held out the pack to Alex. “You’re almost
eighteen.”

Alex shook her head. “I don’t want lung cancer.”

“Your choice.” Her mother shrugged, lighting hers. She took
a drag, then exhaled with a flourish. “Welcome to adulthood.”

 

About the Author

Jen Michalski is the author of
three novels, The Summer She Was Under Water, The Tide King (both Black Lawrence Press),
and You’ll Be Fine (NineStar Press), a couplet of novellas entitled Could You Be With Her
Now (Dzanc Books), and three collections of fiction. Her work has appeared in more than
100 publications, including Poets & Writers, The Washington Post, and the Literary
Hub, and she’s been nominated for the Pushcart Prize six times. She lives in Carlsbad,
California, with her partner and dog.

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter

 

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$0.99 BOOK BLAST: “Crystal’s House of Queers” by Brooke Skipstone. $20.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included!

99c BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Crystal’s House of Queers

Author: Brooke
Skipstone

Publisher: Skipstone
Publishing

Cover Artist: Cherie Chapman
@ccbookdesign

Release Date: May 24,
2021

Genres: LGBTQ Fiction, Lesbian Fiction/Suspense, Lesbian Romance,
Coming of age

Tropes: Friends to lovers, found family, power femme

Themes: Forgiveness, no secrets, overcoming past abuse, fight because
we love

Heat Rating: 3 – 3.5
flames

Length: 93 000 words/ 330
pages

It is a standalone
story.

Add on
Goodreads

99c for a limited time

June 26 – July 2

Buy Links – Also available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Three senior girls in rural
Alaska escape their abusive pasts by raising their dyke flag for themselves and their
community.

Blurb

Crystal Rose woke up at three in the morning today,
drenched in sweat and breathless after another sex dream with Haley Carson.
Later at school in the
tiny town of Clear, Alaska, Crystal saves Haley from an assault by her abusive
boyfriend.

The two girls renew a love started years ago that had to
stay hidden until now. But with Crystal’s grandparents in the hospital with Covid and the
possibility of her drug addict parents returning from a 14-year absence, Crystal needs Haley
as much as she needs Crystal.

They connect with Payton Reed, a gun-toting artist who
helps them feel proud to be gay and willing to stand up to anyone. Together they struggle to
make Crystal’s house safe for those who are hated for their love.

Excerpt

Crystal’s room is small with drawings and photos
stuck randomly all over the walls—closeups of leaves, flowers, and berries; intricate natural
designs created by Labrador tea, spider webs, and lichen; every local animal, including a
grizzly sow and two cubs digging through trashcans from this past June; sunrises and
sunsets plus northern lights; and, of course, line drawings of her house and family, along
with pages of self-portraits. Crystal’s entire world greets her every morning and evening.
Nothing is ever removed or covered, just added to, now up one corner of the ceiling. A large
white board on one wall displays a self-portrait drawing of Crystal sitting.

Haley stands in the doorway, open-mouthed, trying
to absorb it all. “Damn, Crystal, you are something. I love this.”

Crystal smiles. “I’m glad. So do I.” She opens her
closet to show Haley her clothing options, including a never-worn pair of stretch jeans
Crystal bought at Value Village in Fairbanks—a size too big for her, but a size too small for
Haley.

“I’m not sure my butt can fit into these,” says Haley,
holding the pair waist high. “You’ll have fun watching me put these on.”

“Oooh, do I get to watch?”

“Certainly.” Haley raises a brow and half smiles as
she pulls off her sweatshirt.

Crystal’s breath catches in her chest as her mouth
gapes open.

“Oops! I forgot to pick out a shirt. Can I use your
robe until I find something suitable?”

Crystal’s face reddens. “Sure.” She removes her
robe and tosses it to Haley, who then tosses it on the bed. “Now we can stare at each
other.”

Crystal licks her lips. “You are so evil.”

“I’m just getting started.” She tilts her head and
cocks a brow. “Do you like evil?”

“So far.” Though she’s afraid her heart will burst,
it’s beating so fast.

“Great.” Haley moves toward Crystal until their
chests touch. “I love your drawing on the white board. Would you do another of me? Maybe
one of us kissing?” Haley touches her lips to Crystal’s.

“Yes.” She struggles trying to pull her phone out of
her pocket while Haley rubs her tongue tip over Crystal’s bottom lip. Gasping for air, Crystal
asks, “Do you want me to take a pic or not?” Haley smiles and steps back a little. Crystal
props her phone against the mirror on her dresser and sets the timer. “We have five
seconds.”

Haley moves her hand to Crystal’s neck as they kiss.
The camera takes the picture, but they don’t separate.

After a few more seconds, Haley pulls back just
enough to speak. “You are the best kisser. Even in fifth grade I liked kissing you. Think of all
that time I wasted.”

“We have plenty of time now.” She grabs her
phone and shows Haley the photo. “I like that. I can draw it now, if you want.”

“Yes, please.”

“Hold it for me.” Crystal takes her drawing pad and
pen from her desk and sits in her chair.

Haley holds the phone against her cleavage, her
boobs hanging over her arms. “Is that good?”

Crystal stares and shakes her head. “Evil. Pure
evil!”

“Just focus on the photo, Crystal.” Haley slowly
sways her torso, making her boobs jiggle close to Crystal’s face. “Can’t you focus?” Her voice
drips with seduction.

Crystal clears her throat and closes her eyes. “I
think I can. I think I can.” She takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and places her pen on the
paper. Haley sways faster. Crystal starts a line then runs it off the page. “Can you please stop
moving?” she pleads, unable to turn away from Haley’s breasts. “Just for a few minutes?”
She rips off the page and readies another.

Her voice coy, sweet, and sultry—“As you wish. I’ll
stand perfectly still.” She holds the camera away from her body, partially covering her
breasts.

Crystal starts a line under her chin, sweeps down to
make hair, then her face and lips before moving to Haley’s lips, hair, and then ending with
her hand. She stares at the drawing for a few seconds then turns it around. “What do you
think?”

“Oh, my god! I love it. We look good together.” She
gives Crystal a kiss. “Thank you. Thank you.”

About the Author

Brooke Skipstone is a
multi-award-winning author who lives in Alaska where she watches the mountains change

colors with the seasons from her balcony. Where she feels the constant rush toward winter
as the sunlight wanes for six months of the year, seven minutes each day, bringing crushing
cold that lingers even as the sun climbs again. Where the burst of life during summer is
urgent under twenty-four-hour daylight, lush and decadent. Where fish swim hundreds of
miles up rivers past bear claws and nets and wheels and lines of rubber-clad combat fishers,
arriving humped and ragged, dying as they spawn. Where danger from the land and its
animals exhilarates the senses, forcing her to appreciate the difference between life and
death. Where the edge between is sometimes too alluring.

Crystal’s House of Queers
is her third novel.

Visit her
website
for information about her first two
novels,
Some Laneys Died and Someone To Kiss
My Scars.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Instagram

Giveaway

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Giveaway for a chance to win

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one of three audiobook promo codes

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Rafflecopter giveaway

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