RELEASE BLITZ: “Hide to Seek” by C. F. White. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included! See link below for entry:

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Hide to Seek (London Lies 2)

Author and Publisher: C F White

Cover Artist: Ethereal Designs

Release Date: September 30, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romantic Suspense

Trope/s: Enemies to lovers, slow burn

Themes: Hurt/Comfort

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 76 000 words/ 318 pages

It is not a standalone story.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Lust fuelled attraction is easy to ignore.

An emotional connection is harder to deny.

Blurb

Jackson Young has gone into hiding. Fighting to get his name cleared and his truth heard, he’s followed Fletcher Doherty to Ireland for a safe haven from those who want to silence his story.

As they work on Jackson’s biography, their growing attraction gets harder resist. Fletcher’s made it clear though—their professional boundary isn’t to be crossed, especially with so many loose threads from each of their pasts left hanging.

But as he learns more about the once coveted celebrity’s rise to fame, and the manipulation and control that came with it, Fletcher finds it increasingly difficult to distance himself from their intimate moments. Lust fuelled attraction is easy to ignore, but an emotional connection is harder to deny.

Surrounded by Fletcher’s meddling family, and ex boyfriends who still harbour feelings of being jilted, Jackson has to play the part of his lifetime. Can he prove that he does have talent and win Fletcher’s heart as well as his trust?

And can he do it all before their idyllic hideaway is compromised?

Hide to Seek is the second book in the London Lies trilogy and is a slow burn, hurt/comfort, romantic suspense series.

Excerpt

Jackson joined him at the edge of the boat as the land disappeared into the murky water that sloshed up against the stern. He didn’t say anything. Neither did Fletcher. Their silence wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t comfortable either. It was a shared moment of reflection. Of knowing this could be the only peace they might have in a long while. A three-hour ferry ride from Holyhead to Dublin on international waters meant they couldn’t be found yet. They’d managed to get through ID control without any real problems. For how many times Fletcher had done this journey, he knew the ferry border control wasn’t as meticulous in checking details as the airlines would be. It was why across water was the only way. And they needed to breathe in this sanctuary while they still could. Fletcher wasn’t sure what awaited them in Ireland. He had apprehensions about going home, about bringing Jackson Young and all that came with him, to his family. But where else could they go?

So they shared a silent agreement to just stand, stare and be.

Until Jackson broke it with an intrepid inhale and a twist of his body to face him. “We should talk,” he said through the gust of howling wind.

“Should we?” Fletcher kept his gaze forward. Or backward as it were.

“This thing.” Jackson flapped a hand between them, his fingertips brushing Fletcher’s arm. “Us. We should probably acknowledge it.”

Fletcher breathed in, his chest rising, and slapped the railing to stand straighter. He closed his eyes, then opened them but kept his gaze on the distant horizon and not on the man beside him who was conjuring up feelings he didn’t want to concede to. Not then. Not when there was so much else left to learn between them.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Jackson slid his hand onto Fletcher’s cheek, demanding he look at him. A hand that stayed there a moment too long, with blue eyes delving into his soul and a soft thumb brushing along his yearning lips.

“You do, do ye?”

Jackson removed his hand and Fletcher’s cheek tinged with the heat left behind, but the flecks of ice cold seawater carried up by fierce winds slapped his skin and soon wiped the warmth away.

“You think this is too complicated to deal with now. That we need to focus on the book. On ourselves. On hiding. That’s why you left me down there, isn’t it? You can’t face me.”

“What did you think? This would be a romantic mini break?”

“I think we need to acknowledge there’s something going on. We can’t ignore it. I spent my life ignoring what was in front of me and look what happened.” Jackson threw his hands in the air, indicating their current situation.

“I’m not ignoring you, Jax. There’s no time for us. You want this truth out, then we’re gonna have to prioritise.”

Jackson hung his head, the disappointment and hurt seeping off his deflating body. But Fletcher couldn’t do this. He couldn’t rebound so quickly again. Time after time he’d done that, and each time had hurt worse than before to the point he couldn’t trust his feelings anymore. Nor could he trust that Jackson wasn’t clinging onto anything that would save him. How could this be real? How could either of them think that this could be something?

“I can be friends.” Fletcher made a concerted effort to keep his voice low, neutral, soothing. “Neither of us are ready for romance.”

Jackson breathed through a smile. “Are you an old romantic, Mr Doherty?”

“Aye. I am.” Fletcher wrapped his jacket around him, arms folding. It was to stave off the blustering wind chill but also, maybe, to act as the physical barrier to coincide with the one he built up with every wretched word he spoke. “I don’t jump into bed at the first sign of attraction. So when I said, let’s see what happens, I meant it.” He sniffed as the ferry dipped and swayed, aiming for the open arms of Dublin port. “But first things first, we have to get you off this ferry as Cameron Dale.”

About the Author

Brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.

Studying at a West London university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly search for the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down coffee.

She eventually moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.

After her second son was born with a rare disability, C F White’s life changed and brought pen back to paper having written stories as a child but never the confidence to show them to the world. Now, having embarked on this writing journey, she can’t stop. So strap in, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

Follow C F White

Twitter @CFWhiteUK | Facebook | Blog

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RELEASE BLITZ: “Remember My Name” by Laurencia Hoffman, $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included! See entry link below:

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Remember My Name

Author: Laurencia Hoffman

Publisher: Encompass Ink

Cover Artist: The Illustrated Author Design Services

Release Date: September 4, 2020

Genre/s: M/M Romantic Suspense

Trope/s: Second Chance, Soul Mates, Exes to Lovers,

Dark Secret Keeps Them Apart

Themes: Love, Survival, Death, Injustice

Heat Rating: 1 flame     

Length: 58 582 words

It is a standalone story. 

Goodreads


Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited 

Amazon  US  |  Amazon UK 


Suffer in silence or live to regret it.

Blurb

Dark and twisted secrets mar Shane Coulter’s skin, and darken his fragile heart. Yet he keeps his nightmarish truth hidden from all those he holds dear with a smart mouth and abrasive attitude.

His first love, Callan Reid, refuses to accept Shane’s tough exterior. Convinced something truly horrific lurks beneath Shane’s defenses, Callan vows to uncover the truth.

But some things are better left buried. As darkness from the past threatens to be brought to light, there are those who would kill to prevent it. Can Callan break down Shane’s walls? Or will digging into the past come with deadly consequences?

Excerpt 

Heaving an exasperated sigh, he stood in the waiting area and listened to the cheesy music. It was just like Troy to be late, leaving Shane to fend for himself in a crowded and uncomfortable area. If they weren’t best friends, he’d be getting a lot of shit for it. 

He kept checking his phone, trying to appear busy since some of the patrons were shooting him looks. Shane didn’t own just-in-case clothes, so he didn’t have anything appropriate to wear to a restaurant like this. If he had known, he would have borrowed something from Troy. 

Shane didn’t care how he looked most of the time. It wasn’t that he was lazy or didn’t try, but he didn’t care to carter to the judgments of other people. His comfort was the most important thing to him. 

His eyes flicked upward to settle on a familiar face. He would have sworn that his eyes were playing tricks on him, yet, when he blinked and returned his gaze to the tall, handsome blond, he was still there. 

The blond was laughing and patting one of his friends on the back. Shane didn’t recognize the people he was with. 

For a moment, he was frozen. This seemed like a dream, a nightmare, or a hallucination – anything but reality. 

And then those sparkling blue hues spotted him, and the blond’s face turned white as a ghost. 

“Shane,” he whispered. 

Lifting his chin, he looked the man up and down as if he had only just noticed him. “The one and only. How long have you been back, shithead?” 

The man’s cheeks flushed pink and he excused himself from his group of friends. As he took a step closer to Shane, Shane took a step back. 

“Just a couple of weeks. I’m here for work.” 

“Of course you are. I’m not sentimental enough to think that you’d be here for me.” Running his tongue along the front of his teeth, Shane folded his arms. 

The older man swallowed hard. “Do you think we could talk outside?” 

“Oh, sure. Wouldn’t want your friends to think I ever meant something to you, right?” 

The blond gave him a stern look. “That’s not fair.” 

Heaving a sigh, he obliged the man by exiting the restaurant and standing to the side of the entrance. 

“What the fuck do you want to talk about, Callan? How you broke my heart, and abandoned me, forever tainting my view of love?” 

“Did I really?” With a sigh, Callan shook his head. “I thought you might have forgotten me by now.” 

“Unfortunately for the both of us, I didn’t.” He wanted to say so much more, like how the six months they had spent together had changed his life in good ways and bad. But he didn’t want to give Callan the satisfaction of knowing just how deeply he’d been affected by their time together. “What’s with the entourage?” 

His features brightened, happy with the change in subject. “They’re my colleagues, actually. I’m sure you remember my love of photography.” 

“How could I forget?” 

“Well, I’m dabbling in journalism now. And I’m able to provide my own pictures.” 

“Good for you.” He wanted to grumble something about how he’d never doubted Callan, but thought better of it. “What are you working on?” 

“Just a piece about some of my favorite places.” He paused. “I could include you if you want.” 

Shane’s first instinct was to say yes. Callan had been his first – and only – adult relationship. At the time, he had been convinced that he would never need anything more, that Callan was the one and only person for him. And when that had fallen apart, he’d been devastated. Did he want to open himself up to the possibility of being hurt like that again? 

“Why, because I’m one of your favorite places?” 

“Well, of course.” 

He rolled his eyes. “A person can’t be a place.” 

“They can be if that person is home.” 

Shane’s nostrils flared, furious that he had the audacity to say something like that after the way they’d left things. “I don’t think so, Cal. Maybe if we were strangers…” 

“Why can’t we be?” he asked in a hushed tone. 

“You want a clean slate?” 

It was something to consider. In their six months together, Shane had managed to keep all of his secrets, including his health. He had fallen hard, and fast, and he didn’t want that to happen again. If they were even going to consider speaking to one another, it needed to be on his terms. 

“Okay. If we’re going to play that game, it’ll be by my rules.” When Callan didn’t protest, he went on. “I’ll text you a time and a place and we’ll meet for the first time all over again.” 

Callan smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Are you now?” Shane lifted the cell phone in his hand. “Things have changed since the last time we saw each other. I’vechanged. And you’re going to be treated just like anyone else.” 

He furrowed his brow before nodding. “Okay…are you going to tell me what that means?” 

“I guess you’ll find out. Or maybe not. Is your number still the same?” 

“Yes. Do you remember it?” 

“Of course I remember it, you idiot.” 

After checking to make sure there was no oncoming traffic, Shane walked through the parking lot, waving his hand in the air. 

 “Good luck!” 

About the Author 

Laurencia Hoffman is the author of several novels and novellas and co-author of The Wages of Sin series. She specializes in horror but loves to dabble in other genres including fantasy and romance.

When she’s not writing, she also enjoys making her own line of natural products, satisfying her sweet tooth, and watching films.

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RELEASE BLITZ: “The Lucky Cat” by L.M. Somerton.

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Lucky Cat

Author: L M Somerton

Publisher: Pride Publishing

Cover Artist: Louisa Maggio

Release Date:  September 1, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance, thriller/suspense, light BDSM

Heat Rating:  4 flames    

Length: 60 343 words/ 241 pages

It is the first book in a new series.

Goodreads


Buy Links

First for Romance  |  Pride Publishing 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Antiques and ammunition do not mix well.

Blurb

The antique trade is not known for its life or death excitement and Landry Carran is happy that he has to contend only with furniture polish, woodworm and his irascible boss. He gets all the thrills he needs at his favorite BDSM club, Scorch.

Detective Gage Roskam is hunting stolen jewels taken from a Tokyo exhibition then shipped to Seattle. Mired in a deadly race involving the Yakuza, an enigmatic Englishman and too many indecipherable clues, he doesn’t have time to indulge in Dominant fantasies.

When their worlds collide, neither Landry nor Gage expects things to get quite as complicated—or dangerous—as they do. When Landry steps into the path of some powerful, ruthless people, it’s up to Gage to protect him. Along the way they might just discover what they both need.


Excerpt 

Sometimes there were advantages to being vertically challenged. Landry, his ass sticking out from under a seventeenth-century folding card table, paused to contemplate other occasions when his five-feet-six-inch stature had been of benefit. Not when attempting to get served at his favorite leather bar, though getting squished between all those black-clad hunks was always bearable. He snorted. Not when reaching for his preferred brand of chips at the market, which were always on the top shelf. Put there, he was sure, by the snotty assistant manager as revenge for Landry turning down his offer of a quick blow job in the staff restroom. As if. Never at family meals when he got to sit between his older twin brothers like a blond munchkin between two extras from Vikings. He reversed, wiggling his back end to avoid a willow-patterned platter balancing on a brass coal scuttle. His knees ached and he’d banged his elbow on a cast-iron fireguard, but he had rescued the battered cannonball making an escape attempt beneath teetering piles of stock.

“Well, there’s a pretty sight.”

“Hey!” Landry went for indignant rather than flattered. He tried to get up too soon and banged his head on solid, woodworm-free oak. “Fuck me!” He finally made it to open air and scrambled to his feet, rubbing his already messy hair into further disarray.

“Is that a request?”

Landry looked up…and up…into a pair of twinkling pale-blue eyes. The customer, because that was who Landry guessed the newcomer must be, was drop-dead, my-ass-is-yours gorgeous and he was grinning. Well, smirking.

“Funny man. What can I help you with, sir?” Landry gritted his teeth and remembered that Mr. Lao, his boss, would swat him like a bug if he snarked at a potential patron. Though, on this occasion, it might be worth it to mess with the man.

“Another leading question.”

Landry rolled his eyes. Black hair, blue eyes and a stubbled, chiseled chin did not equate to a free pass. “The massage parlor is three doors down, just before St. Peter’s. You can get a full-body whatever then confess all in the space of an hour.” He made an ineffective attempt to brush dust from the knees of his ripped black jeans. Blue Eyes reached into his jacket and produced a wallet, which he opened to display a Seattle PD badge and ID card.

“Gage Roskam. Is your boss around?”

Landry was more turned on than intimidated by the badge. Cop plus handcuffs equaled sexy time. Every cop he’d ever met had had a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude and a natural bent for control—just the type of man Landry liked to mess with. He batted his lashes. “And what makes you think I’m not the boss?”

“You’re not a sixty-eight-year-old Chinese guy by the name of Jian Lao?”

“Very observant, Officer. All that training paid off.” Landry put an extra bit of swing into his hips as he walked toward the cash desk at the rear of the shop.

“Putting your tax dollars to work, brat.”

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to call me sir, what with you being a public servant and all?”

“In your dreams, and you should show more respect for law enforcement.”

“Gonna make me?”

“You’re lucky I’m on duty or I’d bend you over the nearest flat surface and give you the spanking you’re begging for.”


About the Author 

Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.

She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She’s fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.


Social Media Links

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Continue Reading RELEASE BLITZ: “The Lucky Cat” by L.M. Somerton.

RELEASE BLITZ: “Nightway Chant: Coulter & Woodard 3” by M.J. Calabrese. $25.00 Gift Card Giveaway Included. See entry link below:

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Nightway Chant, Coulter & Woodard 3

Author: M.J. Calabrese

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Jessica Henshall

Release Date: September 1, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romantic Suspense

Trope/s: Murder and mayhem

Themes: Detective and Criminal Profiler

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 60 000 words

This is a trilogy and should be read in order

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

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Blurb

There was a time in Detective Eagle Woodard’s life that he would like to forget, but Eagle’s past catches up with him and it’s threatening to destroy everything and everyone he holds dear.

Dr. Adam Coulter is recovering from a cancer diagnosis and Adam and Eagle’s relationship is stronger than ever, but the continued disappearance of their son, Michael, overshadows their happiness. A new threat appears in the form of a man Detective Eagle Woodard thought dead. Sergeant Dean Kessler aka ‘The Viking’ is on a mission to destroy his old Black Ops team mate. Secrets held in silence by Eagle for over a decade come to the surface, threatening his relationship with Adam and with Eagle’s family.

Not only is The Viking after Eagle, but when Dean Kessler finds his younger brother is in Albuquerque, he becomes a target for his older brother’s revenge as well. Eagle wants to deal with Dean on his own, but the people who care for Eagle the most aren’t about to let him do this by himself.

The question is, will Eagle be able to keep the worst part of himself locked away or will he need ‘The Skinwalker’ to help him defeat ‘The Viking’?

Author’s Note: This book begins about six months after the end of Book 2 in the Coulter/Woodard series. This is the third planned book in the Coulter/Woodard series. No others are planned at this time, but who knows if the muse will strike. There are secondary characters who might need to have their stories told, but if they do, then the stories will be standalone novels.

PLEASE NOTE: This story contains some scenes of BDSM, drug abuse, and violent death. If these are triggers for you, this book may not be for you.

Excerpt

“Oh, God, Eagle. I wasn’t ready. Grace told me I wasn’t ready, but I thought I was. Oh, God, Eagle! I wasn’t ready to hear those words.” A tearful Dr. Adam Jonathon Coulter-Woodard walked quickly away from the entrance of the LGBTQ Health Clinic. He had circled the desert landscaped courtyard in front of the building by the time Eagle Woodard placed his foot on the last step.

Detective Eagle Woodard stood silent, watching his husband freak out. He knew if he let Adam run off some of his nervous energy then they’d be able to talk. They’d prepared for this moment for six months… or so he thought. Adam saw his psychotherapist, Grace, twice a week, and once a month Eagle joined them for a co-session. After all the trauma his lover had suffered in his life and the revelations of the past few years, in Eagle’s opinion, his mercurial husband needed all the help he could get.

He watched as Adam flopped down on a concrete bench and he buried his shaking head in his hands. Eagle rolled his eyes at the dramatics. He’d married a diva. He’d known that from the start, but couldn’t the man, for once, be normal? Eagle sighed and turned as he heard footsteps on the walkway behind him. Rick Kessler’s face told him everything he needed to know and the large, white envelope in his hand confirmed it. It would contain test results and a referral to an outside physician. Rick made too much money for the Center’s programs. He could see the younger man trying to hold it together, but the closer he got to Eagle the more his face crumpled.

Eagle opened his arms and Rick walked into the embrace, burying his face against his partner’s shoulder as he started to cry. Eagle reached up, stroking Rick’s soft, blond hair, swaying side to side, trying to soothe him. Rick didn’t have to say the words, he knew his friend was HIV positive. The tears subsided and the younger man pulled back. “I swear, I haven’t been with that many guys in my life, but of course one of them had to be positive. Eagle…” His words failed him as he fell back into his former lover’s arms.

As Eagle held the younger man, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was an old warning. He hadn’t felt something this strong in a very long time. Raising his eyes, he checked the perimeter, but nothing seemed amiss. Only a lone coyote trotted across the street, turning for an instant to look at him before moving on. The feeling grew stronger and he knew they were being watched by a hostile. His time in Special Ops had helped him hone this sixth sense. Slowly, tilting his head, he glanced up at the parking garage across the street. For a fleeting instant, he thought he saw a ghost, a Ch’íindii, but then he blinked and there was nothing there. He had a sick feeling in his stomach. Something was here. Something formidable and this feeling was a harbinger, a warning to him to be very careful because death was close by.

Rick turned his head as he looked over at Adam then he snickered. “I knew he’d react like that when he got the news. He’s a fucking drama queen.” He looked up at Eagle, “And I knew you’d be a rock. You always are.” Again, he dropped his head. “My life is over, Eagle. I’ve fucked up one last time and my life is over.”

Eagle laughed, “Now who’s being a drama queen. Your doctor will get you started on meds if you need them. You’ll have a normal life span, Rick. It’s not like it used to be.”

He felt Rick’s shoulders droop a little further, “But the job…”

“You’d be surprised how many on the force are positive and a number of them aren’t gay, by the way. If you don’t tell anyone, all this information is confidential, and no one needs to know.”

Again, Rick stepped back, but this time he started to walk away. Eagle took a few hurried steps and caught up with him, grabbing his arm. Suddenly, Rick whirled around, bringing his hands up, he captured Eagle’s face between his palms and kissed him passionately. Eagle took hold of his former lover’s hands and brought them down between them as he broke the kiss. “I don’t want to be alone, Eagle, please….” Just then Eagle’s phone rang. The Detective snatched it from his pocket and was surprised to see the name of the caller on the screen. He took the call as he turned away from Rick.

“Dr. Kostas?”

“Detective Woodard, you’d better get to Presbyterian’s ER. Your son was just admitted, and his asshole boyfriend is trying to get him out of here. He’s in bad shape. Someone’s beaten him half to death. Hurry.”

About the Author

My mother now regrets her fateful words she offered the day I came home from our small town library in Palm Springs, California (yes, I’m a Cali girl) complaining that there were no more books to read. “Then why don’t you write some.”

My father never saw his old Remington portable until I entered college and they gifted me an IBM Selectric. By then I had produced at least two dozen unpublishable novels which make me cringe when I read them today.

I found inspiration in innumerable odd jobs (from migrant work as a Date palm pollinator to the person who cleans the washing machines at the launderette to professional Dominatrix) for stories. After a stint in Rehab for Alcohol and Heroin abuse (so when I write those scenes, I know what I’m talking about), I cleaned up and have stayed that way for 29 years. (Me and Sir Elton, LOL). My gypsy lifestyle gave me a unique perspective on the different people who inhabited the Washington, Oregon, Arizona, California, and New Mexico areas where I have lived.

After 3 very bad marriages to men, I finally figured out what was wrong and fell in love with a woman when I lived in Portland, OR 23 years ago. We’ve been married since 2008 (yes it was legal in California at that time). We now live in Asheville, NC and love the people in this liberal and accepting corner of the mountains of North Carolina.

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BLOG TOUR: “Fade to Blank” by C F White.

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Fade to Blank (London Lies # 1)

Author: C F White

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Rhys Everly-Lawless

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romantic Suspense

Trope/s: Slow burn, hurt/comfort

Themes: Enemies to lovers, Revenge, Secrets, Mystery

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 78 000 words/ 280 pages

It’s the first book in a new series.

Book 2 is coming later in the year. Book 1 ends on a HFN for the couple.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

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A celebrity accused of murder. A writer needing his big break. The lies that tie them together.

Blurb

Accused of a murder he didn’t commit, vilified celebrity Jackson Young enlists the help of a rookie journalist to clear his name and write his biography.

Jackson has a secret though. One he must keep from becoming public. But Fletcher’s dreamy green eyes, Irish drawl and effortless charm makes it hard to suppress those long-buried feelings, even if it could compromise his innocence.

Uncovering the murky past behind Jackson’s rise to fame, Fletcher grows closer to a man he’d once declared as talentless, and their intense attraction starts to affect not only his professional integrity but the life he’d made since moving to London.

Falling for the subject of his book could be fatal for Fletcher, and Jackson should know better than to trust a journalist.

Fade to Blank is the first book in the London Lies trilogy set in 1999, and is a slow burn, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort romantic suspense.

 

Excerpt

Fletcher drew troubled eyebrows in. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Okay? Okay?” Jackson breathed out a laugh that was more a release of pent up anguish. He’d always been taught to laugh in the face of adversity. He hadn’t been able to do much of that lately. Any flicker of amusement seeping out when in Flaymore would only have been captured by an inmate wanting a name for himself and used against him in the media. He rubbed his stinging eyes. “My girlfriend is dead. Someone strangled her whilst I was passed out in the other room. The world thinks I did it. I’ve spent six months inside because I wasn’t granted bail. This morning I wasn’t told that I was free because they believed I didn’t do it. They just couldn’t prove that I did. I can’t quite see how I would be okay after all that. Do you?”

Perhaps that was too blunt. Too much, too soon? Perhaps all this seeking the truth was coming across more selfish than he’d anticipated. It was. But the world was pointing at him. So he needed to prove his innocence to force people to look at who might have killed her, instead of allowing them to tie the noose around his neck.

And on that thought, his heart almost stopped. So the desperation kicked in. “I need you. Your help.”

Fletcher softened before him. “Okay,” he said. “Go on. Why would I, the fella you tried to knock out due to one bad review, want to write another article about you?”

“I want more than an article. And you’ll have a ready and waiting readership for this. It’ll rocket you to a fortune you never knew existed.”

“Wind your neck in, lad, that’s a touch arrogant there.”

“Arrogance doesn’t equal guilt.” Jackson leapt up from leaning against his bike, new found energy resumed. “Nor does it equal untalented.”

Fletcher glanced away, flicking his gaze back just as quick. “What are you talking here, then? A featured piece?”

Jackson forced a smile. “A full exposé of Jackson Young and why he isn’t the man he’s been depicted as in the media of late.”

“So this is all about you? Not… Tallulah?”

Jackson sucked in a breath at her name. It still stabbed at his heart, strangled his chest, erupted bile into his throat. He wondered if it would ever stop.

Scrubbing fingers across his perspiring forehead, Jackson had to find the right way to explain what he needed. What he had to do before it was too late and this was all hidden under the carpet as so many of the lies and manipulations already had been. He wasn’t sure how far he should go. How much he should admit he knew. There was the whole story. And there was his story.

“I was arrested for something I didn’t do,” he settled on. “I’ve been painted in the media as a monster. Pretty much all my friends and family have abandoned me because they believe people like you.”

“People like me?”

“People with the ability to write words and print them for the public to read, to believe and to act upon.”

“I never wrote about what happened to her. I’ve avoided talking about you, or her, since.”

“I know. Now I want you to.”

Jackson waited for the faint glimmer of understanding to work its way across Fletcher’s face. He had to know this would be the ultimate scoop for him. A writer, a journalist, a gossip columnist…whatever the man claimed to be, if he took this opportunity he could retire.

“I don’t write news. I write…gossip.” It sounded a lot like he hated to say that word, and his gaze blinked away from Jackson toward the glass frontage of London Lights HQ.

“I don’t want you to write for a paper. I don’t want this to be news, or gossip. This is the truth. My truth.”

“I’m not sure my editor will buy into it.” Fletcher sighed. “And if she did, she’d pass it onto the more seasoned journalists.”

“I don’t want your editor. I don’t want this in your poxy magazine.” Jackson spat the word, nodding toward the office block in contempt. He wanted nothing to do with any of that. Especially not London Lights. “This has got to be independent.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted an exposé?”

Jackson stepped forward, a hair’s breadth from Fletcher, so close he could taste the man’s coffee breath. “Ever want to write something different? Something good. Something that could make a name for yourself away from the trash rags? Don’t you want to see your name on a shelf?”

“What type of shelf?”

“A book shelf. I want you to write my biography. So if you ever wanted your fortune handed on a plate, Fletcher Doherty…” Jackson held out his arms. “It’s here.”

 

 

About the Author

Brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.

Studying at a West London university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly search for the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down coffee.

She eventually moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.

After her second son was born with a rare disability, C F White’s life changed and brought pen back to paper having written stories as a child but never the confidence to show them to the world. Now, having embarked on this writing journey, she can’t stop. So strap in, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

 

Follow C F White

Twitter @CFWhiteUK | Facebook | Blog

Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up

 

 

 

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BLOG TOUR: “Falling Awake III: Requiem” by Kristoffer Gair

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Falling Awake III: Requiem

Author: Kristoffer Gair

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Genre/s: M/M Suspense, occult

Trope/s: Love can conquer all.

Themes: Reincarnation, friendship, sacrifice, love

Heat Rating: 1 flame

Length: 149 000 words

There are two prior books, Falling Awake and Falling Awake II: Revenant.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Smashwords | Amazon US | Amazon UK

He will turn what is into what can be.

Blurb

They targeted him before he was ever born. They will hunt him. They will execute anyone around him. They will rip his innocence away, corrupt him, and twist him into an instrument of terror. He will give the world reason to fear, fear the unknown, and he will do this lifetime after lifetime after lifetime.

Except this time, Daniel Davis hasn’t come back alone.

Four souls have returned with him, would-be protectors who’ve vowed to shield him from this fate. If they succeed, Daniel will turn what is into what can be. And if they fail, his light will dim and fade…forever.

Excerpt

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Amanda grabbed a blanket from the inside of the vehicle and wrapped it around Daniel, then took a clean cloth and held it up to his chin. He’d need stitches and there’d be one hell of a scar. “Look at me.” He did, still shaking.

She’d almost been a moment too late. A second of hesitation and he’d be dead. What did the intruder want? What had he been looking for? And why did he scream what he did at Daniel?

Let me see your eyes. It’s in there, isn’t it? Deep down you can feel it.

The intruder’s words. Why the eyes? What was in them? What had he looked for? And why would Daniel feel it? Why did all of this feel so familiar to her? She knew the answers somewhere in the back of her memory, just out of reach. Why couldn’t she remember?

You can’t hide from us! We’ll find you again and again and again!

This had happened before. It happened now. It would happen again. Unless…

She studied the young boy’s face, the remains of a kind of innocence now lost and something new dawning. He’d never be the same again. Ever. Nobody prepared him for this. Not this young. How did one recover? With time? Without his mother or father?

Daniel began sobbing anew, as if reading her mind about his parents, whom she was sure he already missed.

“You’re—” Her voice cracked and she struggled not to break down in front of him. He didn’t need that. He needed strength. “You’re safe, baby. You’re safe now, Daniel.”

He stared into her eyes now. Was he searching for truth, or to see the depths of her own demons compared to his?

She met his gaze with her own and peered into his eyes. Blue. The blue eyes she’d seen in her recent dreams when he’d appeared much older. Still there, but… She felt her head tilt to the side as she searched even deeper. Beyond the blue. Something else. Something new. Foreign. Fear? No. Fear was on the outside, on the surface, but below the fear in a place he couldn’t feel or know existed inside himself? Shadows. Something that didn’t belong. A blackness, a blackness that swirled around in its infancy, as if waking.

The intruder is responsible for this. He woke this thing.

The blackness stopped moving for a moment. Did it sense her? She stared at it and some part of it intuitively stared back at her. The blackness knew her. They were old acquaintances. And if the thing, this entity or presence…whatever the hell it was…could have sneered at her, she knew it would have.

Have you ever heard a child scream as if their soul was being ripped apart at the seams? Like there’s no safe place in Heaven, Earth, or in-between that’s safe.

Where did these words come from? When did she say them? Part of her understood she never had, and yet another part, the part far back in her mind, knew she had. But when? How could that even be possible? Amanda also understood Daniel’s soul was infected and this thing inside him would take great joy in ripping him apart.

“You’re safe now, Daniel,” she repeated, mostly to reassure herself, only she knew deep down it wasn’t true.

The darkness in Daniel’s eyes began its dance anew.

…it’s going to eat him from the inside out.

Her words again? When did she say this?

“You’re not going to get him,” she muttered.

The darkness found an opening and began to disappear behind Daniel’s eyes, hiding beyond the physical, beyond reach. Beyond her reach.

He’s already ours.

Daniel began to shake.

About the Author

Kristoffer Gair grew up in Fraser, MI and is a graduate of Grand Valley State University. He is the author of 7 novels—some written under the pseudonym Kage Alan—been a part of 6 anthologies, and currently lives in a suburb of Detroit.

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BOOK BLAST: “Sicarii Parts 1-3” by Adrienne Wilder. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included! See link below for entry:

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Sicarii (3 book series)

Author: Adrienne Wilder

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Adrienne Wilder

Release Date: April 28, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romantic suspense

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length three books total: 160 454 words/627 pages

Is it a standalone story across three parts.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Marcel isn’t going to save them.

He’s going to change them.

Because life is a gift.

Sicarii Part 1

BLURB

Ben Corbin lost his parents then his uncle and clues to the man responsible take him to the small town of Spencer. While Ben is determined to get justice for the murder of his family, he finds himself drawn to Jacob Moser, an ex-prostitute with ties to the killer.

Jacob Moser owes his life to Marcel Serghi. A man forged into a killer under the most brutal conditions. A man who saved him when no one else would.

Ben and Jacob, two men from completely different worlds, who have no idea how much they need each other until a killer brings them together.

Sicarii Part 2

BLURB

Ben Corbin has been swept up in a vicious game of revenge. A pawn to be sacrificed in a life or death game of chess.

In order to survive, Ben must make a deal with the devil, Marcel Serghi.

A mistake from Jacob’s past is brought into the game. And it could cost Jacob more than his pride.

It could cost him Ben.

Ben and Jacob, two men from completely different worlds, who have no idea how much they need each other until a killer brings them together.

Sicarii Part 3

BLURB

Marcel Serghi lives by the rules of his House Sicarii where he was honed into the perfect killer; merciless, emotionless, incapable of remorse.

Jacob Moser has always had undying loyalty to Marcel for saving his life.

Until Ben.

Now Jacob must make a choice, to love or live. Because breaking a vow with Marcel means returning what he gifted Jacob.

A chance to live.

Ben and Jacob, two men from completely different worlds, who have no idea how much they need each other until a killer brings them together.

Excerpt

Chapter I

The killer watched.

Light bled from Sam Water’s window, backlighting his silhouette. The pencil danced in his hand. Whatever drove him from his bed must have been important. He was up early, even for a school day.

Marcel leaned against the porch railing and coaxed a cigarette from the package in his hand. The momentary flame from the lighter outlined the web of scar tissue across his palm and three and a half fingers. The car bomb had also spared his thumb. A good thing. Learning how to write with his left hand would have been a bitch.

Not that an old dog couldn’t be taught a new trick. He was no old dog, but the teachings ingrained in him had been done so under conditions leaving no room for change.

The cherry of his cigarette flared in the darkness.

Night in this suburban neighborhood was nothing like where he’d grown up. Tucked in the mountains, there were only the stars, the moon, and the occasional candle. There the darkness wasn’t just a state of being. It was a living thing. All-consuming and unforgiving, conspiring with the wilderness to kill those too weak to survive.

Here the darkness was just a veil; once lifted, life returned, shattering any chance of reaching such perfection.

The storm door to the house opened, and the wooden slats on the porch creaked.

Mild green tea and aloe mixed with the honeysuckle blooming along the split rail fence nestled between the houses. The heat left over from the shower clung to Jacob’s skin.

“I wish you wouldn’t smoke.” In the darkness, there was only the sound of his breathing, the rustle of his clothes, the weight of his body pressing against the space around Marcel. A space that shrank to nothing with another small step.

Jacob’s caress traced the line of Marcel’s jaw. Layers of scars disrupted the gentle movement.

“Did you find your money?” Marcel exhaled a stream of bitter smoke.

“You gave me too much again.”

“It is a tip. For…you know. Good service.”

Jacob teased his fingers down the back of Marcel’s neck. There was more in his touch than physical contact. There was longing, yearning, endless want. But Marcel would never be able to give the man what he yearned for.

“You don’t need to tip me. You already give me so much.”

“I make you live in a motel.”

“Only because it’s close.”

“I could buy you a house.” The tip of the cigarette flared. Jacob was right, he shouldn’t smoke. Damn things never tasted like anything but shit.

“I don’t want a house.”

“You should. You are young. Young people should want a house. A family. A car. You have nothing.”

Jacob rested his cheek on Marcel’s shoulder. “I have you.”

“Nothing.” Marcel snuffed out the cigarette between his finger and thumb, then slid the butt into his shirt pocket. “You should go. Get some sleep.”

“I napped.”

Marcel cupped Jacob’s chin. He didn’t need the light to know how Jacob pleaded with his eyes.

Marcel saw it every time they were together. “No. I have told you many times.”

“Maybe I keep hoping.”

“It is a waste.”

“I don’t see it like that.”

“I could let you go. I could give you enough to go wherever you wanted. Back to school, maybe. What was it you wanted to do again?”

“I don’t want to go to school.”

“You should.”

“I’m happy.”

“You need more than an old man’s cock in your ass. You could go back and get your degree.”

“It takes years to be a doctor, and that dream sailed a long time ago.”

He was young enough to catch up to it. Or simply change direction altogether. All Jacob needed was motivation. A reason to want more. Someway for him to see there was more.

Marcel leaned down, and Jacob tipped his face up, leaving his mouth an inch, maybe less, but definitely not more, away from Marcel’s.

“You need to save those for someone you love.” Marcel traced the bow of Jacob’s lips with his thumb.

“Maybe I have.”

“No, Jacob. I fuck you. That is all.”

“And I’m okay with that. I—”

Marcel stopped him with a press of his finger. The tremor running down Jacob’s body was nothing more than a flutter of his pulse.

Jacob swallowed. “Please don’t send me away.”

One day Marcel would. But not today. Or tomorrow. Jacob wasn’t ready. “Friday. Ten o’clock.”

Marcel went back to tracing Jacob’s lips. He deserved to be kissed, to be loved. But that part of Marcel had been stripped away those nights on a mountain ledge when he was a boy.

“Go home.” He patted Jacob’s cheek. “Rest. You will need it.”

The whisper of tennis shoes against wooden slats faded into steps of rubber soles on concrete. Then those too were gone, leaving Marcel to the darkness.

In the window of the house next door, the boy finished writing whatever had pulled him out of bed. He folded the piece of paper in careful movements. Then he disappeared from view, and the patch of light coming from his lamp winked out.

And the killer watched.

About the Author

I am a writer of contemporary and speculative fiction and artist of all things monster. I live to create new worlds and the people in them. Several of my books have been best sellers both nationally and internationally.

I do my best to write original stories with powerful characters and emotion as well as a fast-paced plot. My goal isn’t just to deliver a good story but to take the reader into the story and let them experience the characters as if they are right there with them.

While almost all my books have a romantic element, I will be the first to admit, they are not traditional romance. In fact, I’d like to think there is nothing traditional about them. And the stories I paint are done so way outside the lines of traditional genres.

One of my favorite things to do as a writer is push the boundaries of what makes a story and to deliver the unexpected and maybe even change the perspective of the reader.

My characters are more often than not, beautifully flawed, not always the good guy, and make mistakes. Their stories will take dark turns which, in the end, make the light at the end of the tunnel all the brighter.

If you’re looking for something different, exciting, and unique, my books are for you.

Check out my website for updates and how to contact me. I love hearing from fans.

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook group | Twitter

| Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up | Patreon | Deviant Art

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Continue Reading BOOK BLAST: “Sicarii Parts 1-3” by Adrienne Wilder. $10.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway Included! See link below for entry:

RELEASE BLITZ: “Pros & Cons” by A.E. Wasp

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Pros & Cons of Desire (Pros & Cons 3)

Author: A. E. Wasp

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Angsty G

Release Date: February 20, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary romantic suspense/comedy

Trope/s: Law officer/thief. A gay cross of Charlie’s Angels and Leverage

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 65 000 words

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Five Men. Five changes for redemption. One things for sure, these guys are no angels.

Blurb

Two jobs down, three to go, and job #3 is mine. My name is Ridge Pfeiffer. I’m a dirt poor jewel thief from the wrong side of the tracks, and I don’t play well with others.

Theoretically, the deal works like this. I do the job Charlie planned for me and Miranda erases my past, makes my biggest problems go away. Too bad my biggest problem is the one thing I don’t want to go away: Diplomatic Security Agent Davis Ethan.

When Davis caught me breaking into a safe during job #2, I should have ended up in jail. instead, I ended up in his bed. Rich, gorgeous, and privileged, the only thing we have in common is a love of beautiful lingerie and beautiful men. He’s everything I hate, everything I want, and he could destroy me with a word.

There are a hundred red flags surrounding this job, I should walk away and take my chances, but I’m going to do it anyway. Anything to buy me one more night with Davis.

One more job, one more night, and then I’ll leave for good.

Excerpt

“You know we don’t have to meet in places like this. I’m willing to spring for some better accommodations.” I said, stripping the nylon bedspread off and tossing it to the floor. I grimaced at the feel of it between my fingers.

“I like this,” Ridge said. “It’s perfect.”

“Perfect for what?”

“Perfect for cheap, meaningless sex. And that’s all this is.”

I wanted to argue with him, but I also wanted to get laid, and I knew pointing out that we both knew this was more would only chase him away. “Can’t we have expensive meaningless sex? I’ve done it in five-star resorts. All I’m asking for is a place with nice sheets and room service. And a mattress that may have been cleaned sometime in the last twenty years.”

Ridge pushed me against the wall. “We could, Rich Boy, but this is my world and if you want me, you get my world with it.”

“Maybe we could chip in and meet in the middle.”

“Maybe I like seeing the pretty rich boy begging for someone like me in this run down pay-by-the-hour motel.”

“Do you like it here?”

“No, I don’t like it. But this is where we are.”

We didn’t normally do this during the day. Dust motes danced in the light rimming the curtains. The room was dark and smelled of things I’d rather not think about.

Except for him. He smelled amazing. Whatever soap or shampoo or cologne he wore carried the scent of oranges and tk.

“Wait, how did you…why did you call me a rich boy?” How did he know?

“Really? I could smell it on you. Literally smell it on you. Your fucking Ambre Topkapi cologne, which sounds like a Pokemon for chrissake. You have perfect teeth, perfect haircut. Manicure, pedicure. You’ve never missed a meal in your life. You don’t live anywhere in the real world. Do you even know any normal people?”

“Everybody I work with.”

“And are you friends with them?”

I wasn’t. Not really. I tried but there was this barrier between us. Really, what could I say about kids and wives and bills?

He slid his hand down the back of my trousers and grabbed my ass. His grip turned into a caress as his fingers brushed across the silky lace and he lost his train of thought. “Are these the same ones?”

“Yes.” I said leaning my shoulders back against the wall and grinning at it. “The purple and black lace La Perla.” He loved those. They might not be the most expensive pair I owned, but they were certainly the most effective at getting him to fuck me through the mattress the way I loved. I had another surprised for him as well, but I’d let him discover that on his own time.

“Anyway. Stop distracting me.” His long fingers wrapped around my wrists, pinning them to the wall. His thumb caressed my pulse point, his thigh pressed between my legs and I couldn’t stop myself from grinding down against it.

“I’m distracting you?”

“Mmm hmmm,” he said mouthing along my neck. I tilted my chin up to give him better access. “You never talk about normal thing. You never complain about car repairs, the cost of anything.” His thumb pressed into the palm of my hand. “This watch?” he pulled away from me far enough to dangle my own watch in front of my eye. I hadn’t even felt him taking it off me.

“Clever boy,” I said, kissing him in reward.

His fox-like grin short-circuited my brain. In my defense, anyone would find thinking impossible with an angel rubbing up against them. I was surprised I could still breathe. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“Asshole,” I said, grinning back at him. I snatched it out of his hand, Knowing I was able to only because he let me was incredible arousing. I’d talk to my therapist about that another day.

“You’re the asshole, wearing a thirty-thousand dollar watch in a neighborhood like this.”

“Yeah, but—”

“But who would know? Everyone. We know how much everything costs in a way you never will.”

“We?”

“Poor people, Davey. We know the price of everything down to the penny because we have to.”

“Oh really?”

Really.

I jerked my chin at the shopping bag I had dropped at the doorway. “Then how about a quiz?” My brain came back on line as he backed away from me.

“What kind of a test?”

“I got you a present.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to.”

Laughing at his suspicious look, I handed him the bag.

He took it gingerly, holding it between two fingers much in the same way I had held the bedspread. “What is it?”

“It’s a present.”

“What is it?”

“Open it and see. That’s usually how presents work.”

About the Author

A dreamer and an idealist, Amy writes about people finding connection in a world that can seem lonely and magic in a world that can seem all too mundane. She invites readers into her characters’ lives and worlds when they are their most vulnerable, their most human, living with the same hopes and fears we all have. An avid traveler who has lived in big cities and small towns in four different continents, Amy has found that time and distance are no barriers to love. She invites her readers to reach out and share how her characters have touched their lives or how the found families they have gathered around them have shaped their worlds.

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter: @amywasp

Newsletter Sign-up | Instagram: @amywasp

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Continue Reading RELEASE BLITZ: “Pros & Cons” by A.E. Wasp

AUDIOBOOK REVIEW TOUR: “Pros & Cons 1 and 2” by A.E. Wasp

AUDIOBOOK REVIEW TOUR – PROS & CONS 1 AND 2

Five men. Five chances for Redemption. One thing’s for sure, they’re no angels.

BOOK 1

Book Title: Pros & Cons of Vengeance

Author: A. E. Wasp

Publisher: Tantor

Narrator: Tor Thom & Alexandre Steele

Release Date: April 2019

Genre: M/M Romantic suspense/romantic comedy

Trope/s: Bodyguard. Leverage meets Charlie’s Angels but more gay

Themes: Vengeance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 8 hours 54 minutes

It is a standalone story.

Add on Goodreads

Blurb

There’s nothing like being blackmailed by a dead man to really bring a group of cons together. And what a group we are: a hacker, a thief, a con artist, a thug, and a Federal agent with an axe to grind. The deal is simple, we do the jobs and Charlie’s lawyer wipes the slate clean for each of us, one at a time.

Since job number one calls for some muscle, it looks like I’m up first. I’m Steele Alvarez, ex-Special Forces Close Protection Specialist (aka, a bodyguard for some not so nice guys).

After learning what the job is — taking down a seemingly untouchable senator with a penchant for beating up young male prostitutes — I’m in. No questions. A bullet ought to do the trick.

Then I met Senator Harlan’s latest victim: Breck Pfeiffer, the gorgeous hooker with a heart of gold and the soul of a fighter. One look at him and I’m gone. That kid laid me out harder than any punch ever did. I’ll do anything to protect Breck, even kill for him. But Breck doesn’t want the senator dead, he wants vengeance.

If we’re going to find a way to bring down the slimebag and get the blackest mark on my record erased, I’m going to need all the help I can get.

Like it or not, we’re all in this together.

Buy Links

Audible US | Audible UK

Amazon US | Amazon UK

BOOK 2

Book Title: Pros & Cons of Deception

Author: A. E. Wasp

Publisher: Tantor

Narrator: Tor Thom & Alexandre Steele

Release Date: June 2019

Genre: M/M Romantic suspense/romantic comedy

Trope/s: Fake boyfriends. Leverage meets Charlie’s Angels but more gay

Themes: Justice

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 8 hours 13 minutes

It is a standalone story but it helps to read the first one.

Add on Goodreads

Blurb

There’s nothing like being blackmailed by a dead man to really bring a group of cons together. The deal is simple, we do the jobs and Charlie’s lawyer wipes the slate clean for each of us, one at a time.

Job number two lands right in my lap. I’m Bond. Wesley Bond. (I can’t resist saying it that way. Blame my dad, if you can find him.) You could call me a hacker. I redistribute wealth – moving it from rich slimebags to poorer but infinitely more deserving people – and make a tidy profit as I do. My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to bring down some modern-day slave traders.

With the life of the one person in this world I love on the line, I can’t afford any screw-ups or distractions. Unfortunately, my biggest distraction is my biggest asset – Danny Monroe. Danny is a leftover complication from our first job. He’s a smart, funny, gorgeous ex-prostitute, who can’t seem to keep his clothes on. I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut around him. But I need a fake boyfriend, and Danny is the only option.

We don’t know who the bad guy is; we have no idea how to prove anything. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to need all the help I can get. Like it or not, we’re all in this together.

Buy Links

Audible US | Audible UK

Amazon US | Amazon UK

About the Author

A dreamer and an idealist, Amy writes about people finding connection in a world that can seem lonely and magic in a world that can seem all too mundane. She invites readers into her characters’ lives and worlds when they are their most vulnerable, their most human, living with the same hopes and fears we all have. An avid traveler who has lived in big cities and small towns in four different continents, Amy has found that time and distance are no barriers to love. She invites her readers to reach out and share how her characters have touched their lives or how the found families they have gathered around them have shaped their worlds.

Social Media Links

Audible Profile | Blog/Website | Facebook

Twitter: @AmyWasp | Newsletter Sign-up | Instagram: @amywasp

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Continue Reading AUDIOBOOK REVIEW TOUR: “Pros & Cons 1 and 2” by A.E. Wasp

Blog Tour: “Pro & Cons” Series Review Tour by A.E. Wasp. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

SERIES REVIEW TOUR

Five Men. Five Chances for Redemption. One thing’s for sure, these guys are no angels

BOOK 1

Book Title: Pros & Cons of Vengeance

Author: A.E. Wasp

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Angsty G

Genre/s: MM Romantic Suspense

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: approx 83,000 words/ 331 pages

Release Date: January 18, 2019

Add on Goodreads

It is a standalone story

Blurb

There’s nothing like being blackmailed by a dead man to really bring a group of cons together. And what a group we are: a hacker, a thief, a con artist, a thug, and a Federal agent with an axe to grind. The deal is simple, we do the jobs and Charlie’s lawyer wipes the slate clean for each of us, one at a time.

Since job number one calls for some muscle, it looks like I’m up first. I’m Steele Alvarez, ex-Special Forces Close Protection Specialist (aka, a bodyguard for some not so nice guys).

After learning what the job is — taking down a seemingly untouchable senator with a penchant for beating up young male prostitutes — I’m in. No questions. A bullet ought to do the trick.

Then I met Senator Harlan’s latest victim: Breck Pfeiffer, the gorgeous hooker with a heart of gold and the soul of a fighter. One look at him and I’m gone. That kid laid me out harder than any punch ever did. I’ll do anything to protect Breck, even kill for him. But Breck doesn’t want the senator dead, he wants vengeance.

If we’re going to find a way bring down the slimebag and get the blackest mark on my record erased, I’m going to need all the help I can get.

Like it or not, we’re all in this together.

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Excerpt

Thank Christ someone had been bright enough to leave the air conditioning on in Charlie’s mansion. Dead men paid no electric bills, I guess. Fucking Florida. I’d been gone too long and had somehow forgotten how truly miserable the humidity could be. Sure, it could hit a hundred and fifteen outside of Baghdad, but it was dry heat.

I thought about taking off my suit, or at least my tie, but until I knew what the hell was going on here, I wasn’t going to let my guard down.

Besides, I looked good in a suit.

“Nice house, huh?” Wesley said from my behind me, as I was busy assessing the layout of the house and cataloging any possible pinch points. Like I said, I didn’t know what I was doing here, and I wasn’t taking any chances.

“I’ve seen bigger.” In my most recent incarnation as close protection specialist and hired muscle to some very rich and very bad men, I’d been in mansions that made this place look like a pool house. Not that this place sucked. Not at all. The cabin I’d grown up in could have fit in the foyer with room left over.

We followed Ms. Miranda Bosley, Charlie’s attorney, single-file down the tiled hallway of the big house like a line of ducklings. Wesley was the only guy I knew and consequently the only one in the group I trusted enough to walk behind me. Even Ms. Bosley looked like she wouldn’t hesitate to stab me in the kidney if she felt she needed to.

Seeing Wes at the funeral had been a surprise. A quick, stilted conversation had revealed that he was here for the same reason I was – we were both being blackmailed by Charlie.

I couldn’t imagine what Charlie had on the kid. I’d only worked with Wes twice before, but he was more a gray hat than a black hat hacker; the kind of person who didn’t mind doing the wrong things for the right reasons. A cross between MacGyver and Anonymous, the kid had probably been on an FBI watch list since he was twelve.

Wesley had triggered my protective instincts from our first meeting, but he’d never really needed much help beyond muscle. Sure he could take of himself with that jujitsu or whatever, but sometimes some people just needed their faces punched, and I was more than happy to do that for him. It was satisfying.

Now Angel-Face, as I’d taken to calling the gorgeous blond kid who’d been sitting a few rows ahead of me at the graveside ceremony, he triggered other instincts in me. Made me think things I probably shouldn’t be thinking at a funeral. But then again, Angel-Face hadn’t seemed exactly consumed with grief either. I hadn’t been completely surprised to see him following Miranda after the funeral along with Wes and me. Very interesting. What had that choir boy done to be in such bad company at such a young age?

BOOK 2

Book Title: Pros & Cons of Deception

Author: A. E. Wasp

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Angsty G

Genre/s: MM Romantic Suspense

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 80,000 words/ 300 pages

Release Date: March 1, 2019

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Blurb

There’s nothing like being blackmailed by a dead man to really bring a group of cons together. And what a group we are: a hacker, a thief, a con artist, a thug, and a Federal agent with an axe to grind. The deal is simple, we do the jobs and Charlie’s lawyer wipes the slate clean for each of us, one at a time.

I’m Bond. Wesley Bond. (I can’t resist saying it that way. Blame my dad, if you can find him.) You could call me a hacker. I redistribute wealth – moving it from rich slimebags to poorer but infinitely more deserving people – and make a tidy profit as I do. My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to bring down some modern-day slave traders.

I definitely choose to accept it.

With the life of the one person in this world I love on the line, I can’t afford any screw ups or distractions. Unfortunately, my biggest distraction is also my biggest asset – Danny Monroe. Danny is a leftover complication from our first job; a victim of the vicious senator we’d gotten locked up. He’s a smart, funny, gorgeous, ex-prostitute, who can’t seem to keep his clothes on. I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut around him. But I need a fake boyfriend, and Danny is the only option.

Fooling the world into thinking we’re in love will be easy; fooling myself that I’m not might be impossible.


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Excerpt

“Hey, can anyone explain why my shirt drawer is empty?” Ridge Pfeiffer demanded, appearing on the patio where the rest of our little band had congregated. Our resident retrievals expert (read: thief) was naked from the waist up and scowling beneath his blue eyes and blond curls like the world’s most overgrown, pissed-off Botticelli angel.

I pulled down my sunglasses to look at him, then slid them back up so I could focus on my phone screen. Right now, I was engaged in a long-term bout of spear phishing at Campbell Enterprises, and I was about to close the deal. This was way more interesting than anything Ridge was likely to share.

Janie, I typed, I’m on a plane with Dal Anderson and he wants a four-paragraph summary of Thursday’s press release so we can prepare talking points for the investors!! Can’t access the secure server from here and I’m fah-reaking OUT!! Send me something? – Becks

There. That ought to do it.

Becks, aka Rebecca Frankel, Junior Executive Assistant to the VP of Human Resources at Campbell, according to her LinkedIn profile, was adorably naïve and helpful. For example, when a friendly IT man had called the other day and asked for her credentials to verify a “suspicious login” from her site, she’d provided all the necessary info. Hell, if I’d asked for her astrological sign and social security number, she’d probably have given me that too.

Once I’d accessed her email, I’d had the keys to the castle. It had been easy to copy her writing style – hyper-friendly, with way too many exclamation points for a person over the age of thirteen – to learn that she was going on a business trip with her boss this week, and to find that she was smoke-break buddies with Jane DeVoor, Assistant to the CFO. As soon as Jane emailed back a summary of Thursday’s press release to help her pal out, I’d make a few quick investment decisions like I’d somehow learned to predict the future.

Hint: Ditch your psychic friends and go phishing instead.

“Um, would we say the drawer is really empty, though?” Breck, Ridge’s identical twin, asked from the lounge chair where he was stretched out in the sun practically on top of his boyfriend, Steele Alvarez.

“Close enough. The only things left are a pink tank top that says I Would Bottom You So Hard and this Pittsburgh Steelers t-shirt.” Ridge held it up. “Neither of them is mine, and frankly I don’t feel comfortable wearing either.”

About the Author

A dreamer and an idealist, Amy writes about people finding love, family, and magic in the everyday world. From professional hockey players to professional thieves, her boys work hard, play hard, and love harder. She invites readers into her characters’ lives and worlds when they are their most vulnerable, their most human, and living with the same hopes and fears we all have.

Born on Long Island, NY, Amy has lived in Los Angeles, London, and Bangkok. She currently lives in a town suspiciously like Red Deer, Colorado.

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