MM Thriller Romance

NEW RELEASE: “The Teacher Inside Me” by Anthony Auswat.

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: The Teacher Inside Me

Author and Publisher: Anthony Auswat

Cover Artist: Anne Channarong

Release Date: June 11, 2025

Tense/POV: first person, present tense, single POV

Genres: MM Dark Romance, Mystery/Suspense, Queer Psychological Thriller, Taboo, Coming-of-Age

Tropes: Student/teacher, forbidden love, power imbalance, age gap, first love, coming out

Themes: Obsession, power and control, desire vs. morality, reputation and ruin, queer identity, boundaries, masculinity

Heat Rating: 4 flames     

Length: 71 000 words/322 pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Universal Link

A forbidden student-teacher obsession. 

A queer coming-of-age thriller. 

A story that lingers like a bruise you can’t stop touching.

Blurb

Liam is just trying to finish high school and keep his secrets to himself. Mr. Hilton, his English teacher, is everything Liam shouldn’t want—straight, married, and way off-limits—but possibly…interested. What starts as an innocent crush blurs into something more real, more intense, and more dangerous than either of them can control.

Because some lines should not be crossed. Some lessons can’t be unlearned. And some desires come at a terrible price.

The Teacher Inside Me is an emotionally charged LGBTQ+ psychological thriller about longing, power, and the darkness within us all.

Originally racking up 2.6 million reads by a global audience on Wattpad before it was banned, this newly revised and completely uncensored edition invites you back into the shadows—rawer, deeper, and more haunting than ever.

This is the book they tried to bury—but The Teacher Inside Me is too disruptive to ever disappear.

Excerpt 

I can’t believe he’s wearing that cologne again. Today of all days. A test day. A day when we get handed an exam with a series of questions about the Anton Chekhov play, The Seagull. A day when we have to scribble answers in the form of short essays to prove not only that we read the play from beginning to end but also that we thought about it deeply. First line: “Why do you always wear black?” Last line: “The fact is, he’s shot himself.” And everything in between.

I’m sitting in the front of the classroom, dead center, because we all were randomly assigned seats at the beginning of the school year and I guess I happened to be unlucky. Never before have I willingly chosen to be this far up front, an open target for questions posed, stripped of the privilege of blending in. But in this class, I don’t mind all that much because it means I get to be close to Mr. Hilton, closer than any other student.

I can smell him from here, and it’s making me swoon. I know it’s an old-fashioned word, “swoon,” but that’s the best way to describe how I’m feeling. How am I going to make it through this test? The scent—his scent—has managed to crawl far up my nose. And that may sound like a complaint. But it’s not.

I’ve always been sensitive to smells. And when the smell is wafting from a man I find extremely attractive, a man in his early thirties who seems simultaneously young and mature, a man whose rugged stubble covers a boyish face, a man whose wavy dark brown hair is short enough to be considered clean-cut but long enough for someone like his wife to run her fingers through, a man whose slim blue jeans and red dress shirt reveal the contours of his fit body, a man who doesn’t belong in a quiet suburb of Los Angeles teaching English but does belong in between the pages of a men’s fashion magazine . . . well . . .

The room is spinning a little, the way it does when I sometimes get up out of bed too fast. A comforting warmth fills my entire head and melts down onto my shoulders and the rest of my body. My heart: is it beating faster? My stomach: is it tightening up? Down further: what?

To put it simply: his cologne is driving me crazy. Like I want to leap out of my chair, pin him against the chalkboard, and ram my tongue down his mouth so deep and so long that I could tell exactly what he had for breakfast. Gross, I know. But these are my thoughts. And if I can’t be honest in my thoughts, then life would suck even more than it does now. I mean, I can’t be honest in my words and actions. And that’s one of the reasons I can’t wait to graduate. To get out of this city, Point Liberty, where I was born and where I don’t want to die. I want to move to a place where nobody knows me and I can finally be myself.

About the Author 

Anthony Auswat is the author of hot and dangerous gay thrillers, including The Teacher Inside Me and Hunter’s Hidden Camera—which collectively racked up more than three million reads on Wattpad before being banned. He lives in Los Angeles, where he writes under a pen name to protect the guilty, hide from his bosses, and get away with murder.

Social Media Links

Website   |   YouTube

Giveaway 

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a signed paperback copy of the book

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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “The Teacher Inside Me” by Anthony Auswat.

BOOK BLAST: “The Man in Black” by L. R. Liverpool

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Man in Black

Author: L.R. Liverpool

Publisher: Black Cab Productions / Texas Poetrope

Cover Artist: Gabriel Sanche

Release Date: November 22, 2022

Tense/POV: First person, past tense, single POV

Genres: MM Historical Romance/Thriller

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forbidden love, dangerous environment, solving mysteries

Themes: Old West, outlaws, mysterious pursuer, hurt/comfort, murders, emotional traumas, scary dreams

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length:  897 pages in Kindle format

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Smashwords  |  Google  |  Apple  |  Kobo

Indigo  |   Angus& Robertson

Who will be safe when a dream figure becomes real?

Blurb

Naive dreamer Fenimore James goes west to become a famous outlaw, but his fantasies of glamorous robberies quickly evaporate when he joins the Red Evans gang, finding himself caught in a strange and bloody game, where gang members are suddenly being murdered one-by-one at the hand of a mysterious pursuer, who leaves cryptic signs scarifying their bodies. As his nights become plagued by a bizarre dream figure––the Man In Black, he also begins to question his sexuality, falling for a fellow male gang member, whom he feared just recently. 

Excerpt 

Sometime later I had a strange dream, which I still remember in great detail, as if I only saw it yesterday: I’m sitting in a hut by a frost-covered window and watching a stagecoach arrive in the yard. It seems to me that my new friends are also somewhere in the house, but this is more of a feeling, because I don’t really see them anywhere. I get up and walk outside. The door does not open into the house, but outward––so I force it hard with all my weight, because there is one hell of a snowdrift on the porch. After a couple of violent shoves, it finally swings open. Everything is white all around––continuous snowy expanses and a snow-covered forest are in front, blackened with tree trunks. And some sort of mountains. I look at the stagecoach and notice that it is also all black, and the horses are black too. Even before I have time to call out to the intruders, the coachman climbs down off the beam and walks in my direction. A tall––very tall––man in a tattered black coat with fluttering hemlines and a worn black hat. He stops a yard away from me and says he’s looking for Red Evans. I answer that Red is in the house and inquire who’s asking for him. “He knows,” the man replies in a low, hollow voice, as if speaking from underwater. I keep trying to see his face, but I can’t. The twilight is still light, and the whiteness of the snow illuminates everything all around. But the man’s face is still not visible in the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat and high collar. I feel goosebumps rise, and I want to run for the hills––from this figure in black––without stopping. But I nod, go into the house to search for Red and find him sitting with Monty and Doug in front of a bright fireplace. The color scheme of the entire dream is black, white, and blue; and only the fire is blood red. I tell the boss that so-and-so, some guy arrived and announced that he was an acquaintance. Then Red reluctantly gets up from his place, and we all go outside. We go out of the house, but there is no stagecoach anymore. No stagecoach, no mysterious guest. Here, of course, they ridicule me, and I scream, convincing them that I saw everything with my own eyes, heard the creak of wheels, the clatter of hooves.

“Maybe,” I suggest, “the guest has already left?”

To which they ask me, “Where are the tracks then?”

And indeed there are no tracks either. Only an endless cover of pristine snow and the prints of our own boots from the doorstep. I remain alone in the yard and continue to stand in the deepening twilight and stupidly stare at the sparkling snowdrifts, trying to understand what happened. And, it seems, there was nothing special in this dream. However, it left an unpleasant feeling in my soul for a very long time.

About the Author 

Lily has been writing short stories to entertain her friends since her teen years, and before coming to pen her own novel, she helped her writer friends with research for their fiction and non-fiction. She is a collector of all things dogs, and Balto & Togo, an animal shelters volunteer, a history buff, a vintage trinkets and toys enthusiast.

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Continue ReadingBOOK BLAST: “The Man in Black” by L. R. Liverpool

NEW RELEASE: “The 39 Steps: A Contemporary Reimagining” by L M Somerton

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: The 39 Steps: A Contemporary Reimagining

Author: L M Somerton

Publisher: Totally Entwined

Release Date: May 20, 2025

Cover Artist: Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Tense/POV: third person, present tense

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, Mystery/Suspense/Thriller

Tropes: Peril, self-sacrifice, accidental hero 

Themes: Saving the world

Heat Rating:  4 flames     

Length: 50 955 words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

First for Romance   |  Pride Publishing

Uncover the conspiracy, outrun the enemy, and trust no one—survival is the ultimate test.

Blurb

Oberon Wycherley never thought his dull London life could take a deadly turn—until a frantic neighbour, American journalist Art Carew, claims to have uncovered an international conspiracy. A Greek industrialist is marked for assassination by a shadowy cabal called the Black Stone and that’s only the beginning.

When Carew is found dead in his flat, Oberon finds himself the prime suspect—and the only one who can stop the plot. Fleeing to the rugged Scottish Highlands, Oberon must decipher Carew’s cryptic notebook while dodging assassins and evading the police. Along the way, he forms an unlikely partnership with the enigmatic Syd Whatten, a man whose charm is matched only by his secrets.

As the Black Stone’s sinister plan accelerates, Oberon and Syd race against time to unmask the conspirators. From explosive escapes to a high-stakes standoff on a storm-battered coastline, every step brings them closer to the truth—and deeper into danger.

Will they foil the plot in time? Or will Oberon become another casualty of a deadly game?

A gripping blend of espionage, danger, and unexpected alliances, The 39 Steps will leave you breathless to the last page.

Excerpt 

“I’m gonna go sit in the corner and browse my phone like a normal human.” Oberon paid for his drinks and the wine he’d be taking home with him then took his glass and snagged a table in the corner next to the window. His job meant keeping an eye on the news so he could justify a bit of doom-scrolling as work. The media sites were full of the usual rubbish about the royals, D-list celebrities and the cost of living. Oberon browsed anything he could find that was remotely related to mining and mining companies. There was a particularly interesting piece about deep seabed mining for polymetallic nodules. Potato-sized lumps containing copper, cobalt, nickel and manganese…hmm, all crucial to battery manufacture. The mention of potato was enough to make his stomach rumble. He took his glass back to the bar, said goodbye to Marley, who handed him a bag containing his bottles of wine, then headed for home.

The rain had stopped, leaving a fine, clear evening. Everything smelled freshly washed. As Oberon walked back to his flat near Portland Place, the crowds surged around him, busy and chattering, snapping pictures of anything and everything. He envied their easy-going camaraderie and excitement even if he didn’t understand the attraction of countless selfies. The shop assistants, office workers in sharp suits, street cleaners and buskers all had things to do and places to be. He gave a few pound coins to a homeless guy hunched in a tatty sleeping bag in a closed-down shop doorway because he saw him yawn; he was a fellow-sufferer. At Oxford Circus, Oberon looked up at the sky and made a vow. I’ll give this place another week and if nothing exciting happens, I’ll stick a pin in a map and buy a one-way flight.

His short-term home was on the first floor of a newish block behind Langham Place. He was flat-sitting for a friend who’d taken a six-month engineering contract in Brazil and the rent he was charging Oberon was peanuts compared to the going rate in the area. The building was upmarket enough to merit a security desk in the entrance hall, along with mailboxes and a well-maintained noticeboard. The lobby smelled of lemons.

His friend had a cleaner who came in three times a week and though Oberon didn’t make enough mess to justify it, he didn’t want to take the woman’s income. Magdalena traded light duties for baking, leaving him Polish sweets and pastries that did nothing for his waistline. There was a lift, which Oberon rejected in favour of the stairs, thinking of those pastries.

He was fitting his key into the lock when another man made his way up the stairs. He moved quietly and his sudden appearance made Oberon start. He was slim, with a short reddish-brown beard, orange-streaked hair and washed-out grey eyes. He was half a head shorter than Oberon’s six feet one.

“You’re my upstairs neighbour, aren’t you?” Oberon recognised him as the occupant of a flat on the next floor. They’d exchanged hellos once or twice in passing but nothing more.

“I am, Mr. Wycherley. I’ve been hanging around waiting for you,” the man said. “Can I come in for a minute?” He seemed to be making an effort to steady his voice, and he reached for Oberon’s arm but didn’t touch him. “My name is Art Carew. I won’t take up much of your time.”

Oberon didn’t feel he could refuse. He got his door open and motioned Art in. No sooner was Art over the threshold than he made a dash for the kitchen, where he peered out of the window before coming back.

“Is the door locked?” he asked, not waiting for a response before fastening the security chain in place himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m taking advantage, but you look like the kind of man who might understand. I’m in trouble and I need a favour. It won’t cost you anything.”

Oberon debated throwing him out there and then but he was bored and the man was intriguing, if a bit odd. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll listen. Can I get you a drink?” He looks like he needs one.

“That would be kind and very welcome.”

There was a tray of decanters and glasses on a table next to the couch. Oberon poured his visitor a generous neat whisky. Art downed it in one. “Another?”

“Thank you but no. I should keep a clear head, but that one helped steady the nerves.”

“My landlord appreciates a single malt. Take a seat. I’ll just be a minute.” Oberon carried his wine through to the kitchen then took off his jacket before returning to the living room. “So, tell me what’s going on.”

“Yeah, I should, shouldn’t I?” Art said. “I’m a bit shaken up and not thinking straight. You see, I’m dead.”

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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Pride Publishing Page  |   Blog/Website  |  Newsletter  

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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “The 39 Steps: A Contemporary Reimagining” by L M Somerton

NEW RELEASE: “Nothing but the Night” by Thom Collins. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Nothing but the Night (Basic Instincts Book 2)

Author: Thom Collins

Publisher: Entwined Publishing

Cover Artist: Kelly Martin

Release Date: April 8, 2025

POV/Tense: third person/past tense

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, mystery/suspense/thriller

Tropes: detective, murder mystery, crime, erotic romance, suspense 

Themes: family, secrets, sex work

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 64 958 words/253 pages

It is a standalone story that is part of a wider series. 

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Buy Link

Be careful what you look for in the night.

Blurb

Three months after the death of his brother, Marc Glass faces a whole new dilemma. A tabloid journalist has made a connection between Theo and a prominent politician. Theo’s death might not be all it seems. Marc knew all about his brother’s secret sex work, but it’s a scandal that would destroy his family, who have already suffered enough.

Private Detective Jason Durham might be the answer. Marc enlists Jason’s agency to look into Theo’s unsolved murder. The police investigation is dead, but if they can solve the case on their own, they could head off the potentially damaging story. Marc isn’t sure who he can trust with the details of Theo’s life, but Jason seems like the man.

As secrets are uncovered, Marc and Jason must fight their attraction to each other, but when their prime witness is murdered, they are suddenly caught in a web of mystery and increasing danger.

As the nights grow darker, will either of them make it until morning?

Excerpt

Marc saw him fully for the first time and was startled. At forty-four, it had been a long time since he’d been instantly affected by the physical appearance of a man, but Jason was stunning. It was his large, expressive eyes that first drew him in. They were a pale shade, somewhere between green and blue, and they gave a boyish quality to his masculine face. His dark-blond hair was swept to the right, short at the back and sides with a little length on top. He had a well-trimmed beard, brown and seasoned with flecks of grey. His mouth was wide. Marc had the most insane urge to kiss it. When he smiled, he revealed a small gap between his two front teeth, which only made him even sexier.

The body beneath his clothes was fit. More athletic than muscled, and there was an almost military bearing about his posture, with his shoulders back and his chest held proudly.

Jason sat and leaned across the file on his desk, looking at the notes, granting Marc a peek down the open neck of his shirt, and a tantalising hint of chest hair.

Get hold of yourself. Remember the reason you are here.

“So, this is about your brother?” Jason said, reading the file. Marc had given the briefest summary of his case to Olivia when he’d called to make the appointment yesterday.

“Yes, but it’s probably not what you’re thinking. My brother isn’t missing or anything like what you’re used to dealing with.”

Jason looked at him with wide, reassuring eyes. “There’s no such thing as a usual case in this business. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what the problem is.”

Marc sighed. The beginning. He didn’t even know where that was. “Theo died in December. Down on the waterfront by the Vermont Hotel? You probably heard about it. He was killed by a car as he crossed the road in front of the hotel. Some of the witnesses say the car drove straight at him, but the police were never convinced.”

Jason pushed the file to one side. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Yes, I remember it. There must have been CCTV coverage. There are cameras all along the waterfront. And at the hotel too.”

“There are, but it’s inconclusive whether the car changed course to hit him or not. The resolution of the images isn’t great. I must have watched it a million times and even I can’t decide on what I’m seeing.”

“I take it the driver was never caught. Do you want me to investigate further? See if I can track them down?”

Marc shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here. It’s more…complicated than that. The car was discovered burned out a few miles away. It was stolen and they never found the driver. Have you heard of Nadine Smythe? The journalist.”

Was that a tiny twitch at the corner of Jason’s mouth?

Jason nodded. “Of course. Blyham’s finest.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his tone.

“She came to visit me yesterday. She’s conducting her own investigation into Theo’s death… Theo’s murder.”

About the Author 

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

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

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

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

Social Media Links

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Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

one of 5 ebook copies of the series so far:

Now Comes the Dark

Nothing But the Night

Night Crimes (a standalone short story prequel)

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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “Nothing but the Night” by Thom Collins. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

BLOG TOUR: “The Lake House Massacre” by Chris Bedell. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: The Lake House Massacre

Author: Chris Bedell

Publisher: Baynam Books

Cover Artist: Christy Aldridge

Release Date: January 20, 2025

Tense/POV: Third Person, Past Tense

Genres: YA LGBTQ Horror/Thriller (the main character is a bisexual male)

Themes: Forgiveness vs Revenge, Trust

Length: 30 000 words/172 pages

Heat Rating: 2 flames

It’s a standalone book.  A sequel (Mother Mania) is coming out in March.

There is a mild cliffhanger, but it wraps things up for the most part. The door is left open for the sequels. But a lot of questions get answers.

Note from author: This book isn’t a romance book. But Tate’s ex-boyfriend, Nick, is a part of the plot. I can’t say much because of spoilers. Although I want to make it clear this isn’t a romance story because I don’t want people to expect a happy ending for Tate and Nick. It’s a horror/thriller story first and foremost.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK 

18-year-old high school senior Tate Robinson and his friends are spending Winter Break at Tate’s family’s lake house. But there’s a serial killer on the loose.

Blurb

18-year-old Tate Robinson should focus on having a relaxing winter break with his friends. Their parents all agreed to let them spend several days at Tate’s family’s lake house without adult supervision. Instead, someone wearing a scarecrow mask stabs Tate’s friend, Elijah, on the second day of the trip. Tate narrowly escapes the killer when he flees the woods and runs back to the house, rejoining his friends. To complicate matters, everyone discovers their smartphones are missing. Therefore, they can’t call for help. Their phones were the only technology they brought because the trip was supposed to be a break from Senior Year stress.

Everyone remains at the lake house. At least temporarily. The body count starts rising after Elijah’s death, though. So, if Tate and company want to survive the trip, they must uncover who’s after them. And quickly.

Furthermore, Tate must deal with his former fling, Nick, who tagged along by showing up at the lake house uninvited. Tate and Nick were supposed to be taking a break…they wanted different things. Tate hoped to keep their relationship casual because he was afraid of getting his heart broken. Meanwhile, Nick craved a real relationship. But just because Tate and Nick could reconcile doesn’t mean they should reunite. With a killer on the loose, Tate can’t be too careful about who he trusts.

Excerpt 

Tate walked away from Nick, then grabbed his jean jacket on the rack by the door. The wind howled, stinging Tate’s face once Tate left the house. So much for Elijah claiming it wasn’t cold. Tate should’ve realized that Elijah downplayed the temperature.

Snow crunched under Tate’s sneakers while he shuffled towards the woods. Nick could make breakfast, which he all wanted, but when Tate returned to the house with Elijah, he demanded that Nick go. If redirecting Nick’s focus didn’t work, Tate would try another strategy. He wouldn’t give up until Nick left. That simple.

“Everything okay?” Tate asked after trekking deeper in the woods. He just found where Elijah was. And Tate had no idea why Elijah would be staring at a tree.

Elijah whirled his body around. “Just wanted some time to myself.”

“No problem.” Tate huffed, breath becoming visible once he exhaled. “But are you certain everything’s fine?”

“No. But it will be.”

Tate glared at Elijah.

“Don’t give me that look. Nothing’s wrong. I just have a crush.”

“Care to share?”

Tate didn’t care about seeming nosey. Being best friends meant they could discuss anything with each other. Tate might even be able to help Elijah. Having a disastrous love life didn’t mean Tate couldn’t be there for his friends. He would. Perhaps his strained dynamic with Nick might provide insight to help Elijah with his current romantic problem.  Just a thought, anyway.

“I like Sydney as more than a friend.” Elijah tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

Tate gaped. “Wow.”

Elijah blushed. “Please don’t say anything to her.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m serious, Tate.”

While Tate understood that awkward stomach feeling better than anyone else, he didn’t need Elijah hassling him. Tate had nothing to gain from outing Elijah’s secret. Doing so wouldn’t have benefited Tate. Spilling personal secrets was also a shitty thing to do. And Tate would never stoop that low. Not ever.

Tate beamed at Elijah. “You have my word.”

“Good.”

“Do you plan on telling her how you feel?” Tate asked.

“I was hoping to be alone with her sometime during the trip. Just don’t know where even to begin.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the right words.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“How are things with Nick?” Elijah asked.

Tate shouldn’t have been shocked by Elijah’s question. If Elijah’s love life could be dissected, then Tate imagined his romantic life would be scrutinized, too. Only fair. Being asked a question didn’t mean Tate had to answer it. Not if he didn’t want to.

A lump lingered in Tate’s throat. “Don’t ask.”

“Okay then.”

“I wasn’t saying that to be snarky. I was being serious.”

“I’m sure everything will work itself out. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, situations usually seem worse than they are.”

“Maybe.” Tate’s teeth chattered. Perhaps visiting his family’s lake house during winter wasn’t the smartest idea.

Tate’s heart thumped louder and faster. Something stole his attention from the corner of his eye. More specifically, someone. A person wearing a scarecrow mask stood behind Elijah. But someone wearing a disguise wasn’t why Tate’s pulse hadn’t slowed down. Sunlight glinting against the metal object the stranger held was why sweat coated Tate’s brow.

Tate screamed. “Behind you, Elijah!”

Elijah spun around, back now towards Tate. The person in the scarecrow mask lunged forward, stabbing Elijah in the throat. Blood spurted from the top of Elijah’s neck before he collapsed.

A bright red color stained the snow near Elijah’s head.

Disbelief swelled inside Tate. Someone couldn’t have murdered one of his best friends—the idea was unfathomable to Tate. Yet the dread coursing through his veins remained as palpable as the desperation from Nick during their earlier argument in the kitchen.

So, Tate had two options.

Fight the person who killed Elijah. Or run.

About the Author  

Chris Bedell is the author of over twenty small press books. He also graduated with a B.A. in Creative Writing from Fairleigh Dickinson University in 2016.

Author Link

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Giveaway 

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one of two ebook copies of my YA LGBTQ novel The Killing Game. It’s another teen slasher novel.

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BOOK BLAST: “Bridge at the Beach” by Garrick Jones.

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Bridge at the
Beach (A Clyde Smith Mystery
#4)

Author and Cover Artist:
Garrick Jones

Publisher: Moshpit
Publications

Release Date: April 12,
2024

Genre: Crime Thriller

Themes: Sowing one’s oats; Finding Mr. Right; Acceptance in community;
Historical fiction; Crime Fiction; Detective Fiction

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 134 000 words/ 392
pages

It is part of the Clyde Smith
Mystery Series, but does not end on a
cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon AU | Amazon UK | Smashwords

 

 

Blurb

Clyde’s idyllic afternoon in the surf with his mates is
interrupted by the news that there’s been a quadruple suicide in an apartment overlooking

the beach.

Two of the deceased are the parents of Barry Wilkinson,
one of Clyde’s childhood friends, a man he hasn’t seen since Clyde donned the khaki and left
for war. Wilkinson engages Clyde to discover the identity of a mysterious woman who has
been left a huge sum of money in his father’s will.

On the surface, what appears to be a straightforward case
evolves into a complex story of deception, lies, violence and murder. Relationships are
tested, new ones formed and Clyde discovers that those connections that seem unrelated
are closely linked behind a veil of secrecy.

The early summer of 1957 is a time in which Clyde nearly
loses everything he holds dear—his own life included—all because of two couples who died
while playing bridge at the beach.

 

Excerpt

My awareness of Harry’s arrival was having my swimming
trunks pulled down to my ankles then a grinning redhead surfacing between Mark and
me.

“Take your foot off my cozzies, Jones,” I said, trying not to
laugh and vainly struggling to pull them back on.

“Did he pants you?” Mark asked.

“Yes, and if it wasn’t for you, Mark,” Harry said, “I’d be
twirling them over my head and racing him to the beach.”

A large wave slapped us in the face; we’d been so busy
laughing none of us had spotted it.

“I’ve ordered a float for Mark,” Harry said to me. “Do you
think you could pick it up while I chat with my favourite dick?”

“Don’t take him out too far,” I replied, smiling at Harry’s
purposeful innuendo. Mark’s eye-roll was slight, but noticeable.

“I’m not totally clueless, Clyde. I know he can’t swim. I just
want to show him how to use the float and see if we can’t catch a few waves.”

“All right. See you in a bit.”

I put my shoulder into the next decent breaker and body-
surfed to the beach. I recognised the lad in charge of the float rentals. We locals called them
floats or floaters, but to visitors they were known by their brand name: Surfoplanes. The
long black rubber blow-up surfboard-type things were very popular with people from the
western suburbs who weren’t used to swimming in the ocean. They were very cheap: only
sixpence an hour to hire.

“How’s it going, Barney?” I asked. “I thought you were
working for my mate Craig at his pool these days?”

“Nice to see you, Mr. Smith,” he replied, his eyes fixed on
the front of my swimmers. “When are you going to wear those sexy yellow speedos I keep
hearing about?”

“You know I’m taken, Barney, and you get to see me naked
nearly every morning at the pool …”

“Yes, but somehow the way men fill out their cozzies and
imagining what’s hidden in them is far more alluring than the bare truth … not that you’ve
got anything to worry about on either count, Mr. Smith.”

I shook my head at his wink and was about to ask him
sarcastically how he knew what the word “alluring” meant when I heard someone call out
my name.

“Here, take your float, Mr. Smith,” Barney said. “I just need
to nick off for a second.”

It was when I turned that I understood Barney’s sudden
disappearance. “Hello, Clyde,” the policeman said.

“Gidday, Dave. What brings you down to the beach … and in
uniform?”

“Looking for D.S. Dioli. He told me this morning at work that
he was having a half day off and spending the afternoon at the beach with you and your
mate Luka Praz.”

“He’s in the water. Want me to get him for you?”

“Bloody hot day like this, I’m tempted to take my clobber
off and go fetch him myself.”

“Problems at work?”

“Yeah, bad one, Clyde. Four dead. Looks like a suicide
pact.”

I whistled softly. “Where?”

He turned and pointed to the north end of the beach.
“Baden Street, number five, top floor.”

“What, the Wilkinsons’ place?”

“You know them?”

“Sure thing, Dave. I hauled Sidney Wilkinson into the nick
countless times just after I first started. Petty stuff, mostly: handling stolen goods,
moneylending, associating with known criminals. He was the lowest of the low back then,
but out of the blue opened a jewellery shop up at Peter’s Corner and seemed to have gone
straight. Suicide? You said there were four dead?”

“I don’t know much about it yet. But the D.I. told me to
bring D.S. Dioli in; he wants him on the case.”

I snorted. Typical of Brendan, telling Mark to fuck off and
take a break because he was annoyed with him, next minute calling him into work by
sending a constable on the first half day Mark had taken in ages. Although Brendan was a
very close friend, when it came to business there were very strict lines never to be crossed
that sometimes challenged our friendship.

“Are we still on for tonight, Clyde?”

“Of course we are. Last revision on forensic procedures,
after which you’ll piss in your detective’s exam on Thursday morning.”

“What will I bring?”

“Just yourself. I’m cooking Moroccan food. Harry will be
home at half six—he’s in charge of dessert—and we’ll eat around half past seven if that suits
you.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one, Dave. But seeing I used to
babysit you when you were a toddler, I feel you’re part of the family. Now, I better go get
Mark.”

“Clyde …”

“Yes, mate?”

“There’s another personal thing I want to talk to you about
sometime. Can I take you out for a bite to eat or for a beer sometime?”

“Why not tonight over dinner? Harry’s
trustworthy.”

“I’d rather it be just between you and me.”

“Trouble with Katie?”

“Well … sort of, but as I said, it’s personal.”

“Any night but Wednesday, Dave.”

“Thanks, Clyde.”

As I ran down the beach with the float under my arm, I
glanced up over the north end. Had I not been looking for them, I may not have noticed how
many cars were parked outside number 5 Baden Street.

 

About the Author

From the outback to the
opera.

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

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

 

 

Author Links

Blog/Website |
Facebook | Twitter |
Instagram

Pinterest | Newsletter Sign-up

 

 

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Continue ReadingBOOK BLAST: “Bridge at the Beach” by Garrick Jones.

NEW RELEASE: “Jagged Ends” by Thom Collins. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Jagged
Ends

Author: Thom
Collins

Publisher: Pride
Publishing

Cover Artist: Kelly
Martin

Release Date: April 30, 2024

Genre. Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Suspense, thriller, small town

Themes: Second chance, revenge

Length: 61 912 words/ 248
pages

Heat Rating: 4 flames

It’s a standalone romance
that forms part of a wider series

and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Publisher | Universal
Amazon Link | Kobo

 

Jerico is about to meet
two figures from his past.

One filled with love, the
other consumed by vengeance.

 

Blurb

The coastal town of Nyemouth is the perfect location for
celebrity chef Jerico Osman to fulfil a lifetime ambition. With it’s stunning harbour and brisk
holiday trade, there’s no better place for him to open his first restaurant. It’s a dream that
has been a decade in the making. But there’s another attraction in Nyemouth, one Jerico
was completely unaware of.

Andy Quinn is content with his life. He has a great job
managing Quay House, the popular waterfront hotel, and a peaceful home with a cat called
Patches. Andy spent his twenties working in the cruise industry, exploring the world and has
finally settled in his home town of Nyemouth. Those years at sea were a time of adventure
and discovery, including a ship bound romance with a young Jerico. After fifteen years, Andy
doubts the famous chef will even remember him, but from the moment they reconnect, the
time they spent apart falls away.

Andy isn’t the only figure from Jerico’s past. A week before
the restaurant is due to open, an act of reckless sabotage puts everything he cares about in
danger, including Andy. Jerico has made an enemy, someone who will stop at nothing to see
his long-realised dream become a nightmare. As a plan for vengeance is played out, who will
survive until the end?

Fall in love with compelling new characters and rediscover
some old favourites in the fifth and final instalment of the Jagged Shores series.

 

Excerpt

The evenings in Nyemouth were beautiful in the summer,
when the blue sky was transformed to the most startling shades of purple, pink and red. It
was Andy’s favourite time of the year, and tonight, it was even better, as he walked the
South Point cliff with Jerico.

“It reminds me of all those sunsets we saw when we were
at sea,” Jerico remarked.

Andy nodded his agreement. “I come up here a lot when I
have the time, if I get finished at the hotel early enough. It helps me to relax. At this time of
year, there’s nothing I like more.”

“It seems like you’ve always been drawn to the
sea.”

“Mmm, probably. I grew up at the coast, worked on ships. I
can’t imagine ever being far away from it.”

He was aware of Jerico watching him and tried to keep his
gaze on the path ahead, though the temptation to turn and feast his own eyes was huge.
Instead, he filled his lungs with the salty air coming from the water. Up here, the sticky heat
of the hotel and the town centre was forgotten.

“What did you do?” Jerico asked. “After we lost touch. You
have me at a disadvantage. You can find out about me online, everything I’ve ever done is
there. But you, apart from your professional CV, there’s nothing.”

Now Andy could not resist looking at him, raising a
bemused eyebrow. “So, you’ve been cyber-stalking me?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

His brown skin looked glorious in the evening light. Andy’s
mouth was dry. Jerico looked more handsome than he’d ever known him. How had they
come to be here, after all this time? Andy knew he wasn’t dreaming. This was very
real.

He wet his lips. “It’s a similar story to your own. I kept
working at sea until I was around thirty.”

“Doing the same as before? Excursions and tours?”

“For a while, yes. But when I moved to another cruise
company, an opportunity arose to join the hotel management side of the ship, and I found I
enjoyed that even more. I became Deputy Hotel Manager after just two years. I loved being
on the ships. I’m so glad I did all that. For a young guy in his twenties to travel the world and
see all those places, how many people are lucky enough to do that?”

Jerico nodded. “It was great, though I don’t miss the force-
eleven gales and ten-metre waves.”

Andy laughed. “Yeah, I think I’ve pushed those to the back
of my mind and just remember the calm waters and sunsets.”

“I remember some really bad nights, trying to sing and
dance while the stage was going up and down beneath my feet.” He gave a dramatic
shudder and chuckled.

“But look at it now,” Andy said, gesturing to the peaceful
North Sea. Tonight, there wasn’t even a white cap to ruffle its surface. “When I see it like
this, I do miss being out there.”

“Would you ever go back? To working on the
ships?”

“Nah. Been there, done that. I’m happy here. I’ve got my
dream job and my family close by. I’ve seen almost all the world has to offer, so now I’m
content to stay home. How about you?”

“I’ve done a couple of themed culinary cruises in the last
few years—guest speaking and cookery demonstrations, that kind of thing. It’s a lot different
on the other side. The guest staterooms are a lot nicer than those tiny crew cabins we had to
stay in.”

“I’ll bet. That’s something I’ve never done, experiencing a
cruise ship from a passenger perspective. I imagine it’s a different world from what we were
used to.”

“Yeah, but when you’re young, you don’t care, do you? You
just need a place to sleep and shag. They could have put me in a cupboard, and I’d have
been happy.” He gave Andy a flirtatious wink.

“I remember what you were like, all right.”

They paused and stood side by side and looking out to sea
together. For a moment, Andy lost himself in those memories…of standing on the deck of a
ship or the shores of exotic countries with Jerico. Were those the best days of his life? No, he
decided. The best days were still ahead of him. Be positive and keep moving forward.

It had gone eight o’clock. “I’m getting hungry,” he said. “Do
you fancy something to eat?”

“Starving,” Jerico said. “What do you suggest?”

 

Check out the other books in the Jagged Shores series

 

About the Author

 

Jagged
Ends is Thom Collins’ tenth novel. As well as
the Jagged Shores series, he is the author of the Anthem Trilogy and Closer by Morning.
He has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and
now lives in County Durham with his husband and cat. He loves all kinds of genre fiction,
especially thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many
titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new
recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a dislike of flying that gets worse with age. Since 2013
he prefers to see the world by sea.

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

 

Social Media Links

Facebook | Twitter |
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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “Jagged Ends” by Thom Collins. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included!

BLOG TOUR: “Ugly Beautiful People” by C J Bedell.

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Ugly
Beautiful People

Author: CJ Bedell

Publisher: Next Chapter
Publishing

Cover Artist: Lordan June
Pinote

Release Date: August 31,
2023

Genres: Adult LGBTQ Thriller
(3 out of 5 point of view characters are bisexual)

Themes: Coming out, Self-acceptance, finding yourself, death, grief,
loss

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 59 000 words/249
pages

The book stands alone, but it
is intended to be the first book in a trilogy.

It ends on a small cliffhanger.
Most of the plot points that happen in Book 1 are wrapped up, though.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | B & N | Kobo

Welcome to Crescent Hills
where beauty only runs so deep. Scandal lurks just below the surface behind the
McMansions, designer clothes, and fancy cars. And a death will bring the lies, secrets, and
betrayals to a boil.

Blurb

Welcome to Crescent Hills, where beauty only runs so
deep. Scandal lurks below the surface behind the McMansions, designer clothes, and fancy
cars. When the town is shaken by the disappearance of journalist Ivy Fields, whispers of
betrayal and intrigue begin to unravel the threads binding its elite residents.

Audrey, haunted by her own past, is determined to
unveil the truth behind Ivy’s disappearance, hoping to find closure she never received.
Amidst this, Marcia grapples with the confines of her seemingly perfect marriage, leading
her down a dangerous path. At the same time, a young Ben navigates the complexities of
love, friendship, and societal expectations. Meanwhile, Cassandra’s life gets disrupted by a
ghost from her past.

As Crescent Hills residents confront their own
dilemmas, the shadow of Ivy’s disappearance looms large. For behind every beautiful
façade, there are secrets yearning to be exposed, and as they say, the past always finds a
way to catch up.

Excerpt

Birds screeched when Audrey opened her eyes. She
yawned, then stretched. Her back hairs stuck up. Audrey might’ve been lying on the seating
of the pontoon boat, but black no longer veiled the sky. Instead, sunlight beamed from the
cloudless sky.

Audrey scanned the boat. Ivy was gone.

Dread filled Audrey’s insides—she couldn’t think of one
logical explanation as to why Ivy would no longer be on the boat. Audrey did the only thing
she could and leaned up against the edge of the boat and peered into the water. No sign of
Ivy.

Something vibrated from her jean’s right pocket and she
whipped out her iPhone. Sawyer was calling her. “Hello?” Audrey asked.

“I wanted to see how you were doing this morning.” Sawyer
chuckled. “And don’t worry. I’m not mad you decided to have a fun night with Ivy. Just glad
Ivy texted me about you staying over at her place. Most people wouldn’t be so courteous.”

“I’m still on the boat,” Audrey blurted. “And Ivy is nowhere
to be found.”

“Come again?”
“We never went back to shore and had
dinner.”
“How much did you drink last night?”
“Just one gin and tonic.”

A folded piece of paper on the driver’s seat of the boat
caught Audrey’s attention, and she rushed over to it. “I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta go,” she said.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

Audrey pressed END before shoving her iPhone back into
her pocket. Then, she unfolded the note and read it.

Dear Audrey,
I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I’ve
been very unhappy

with my life for a long time, and I’ve decided to end my
life.

I know my suicide will probably come as a shock to you.
However,

please always think of me fondly.

Love,

Ivy

Audrey crumbled the note and it fell onto the floor of the
boat. After that, she screamed. Tragedies were supposed to be something that she watched
on the news, not witnessed first- hand. But no explanation was necessary about how cruel
life was and the universe often had a twisted sense of humor.

Tears welled in Audrey’s eyes. Nothing could’ve prepared
her for this moment, because she wanted to cry. And cry. And cry. Ivy couldn’t be dead; she
was only thirty-seven. So, she still had a little more than half her life left.

Ivy was in trouble and Audrey hadn’t seen the signs. So,

Audrey’d never forgive herself for Ivy’s suicide. Audrey had
failed Ivy, and she couldn’t fathom how she’d continue with life.

Audrey’s throat tightened. Perhaps Ivy’s death was only
meant to resemble a suicide and was really murder. There was a reason people always
touted the saying about life being stranger than fiction. Audrey shook her head. Yeah, that
had to have been it. Ivy couldn’t
have been desperate enough to commit
suicide.

The only thing Audrey was certain of was that Ivy was
nowhere to be found. And that was why she’d get to the bottom of Ivy’s death. Whether
someone murdered Ivy or Ivy actually committed suicide, there had to be more to
the story.

About the Author

Chris Bedell is the author of
over a dozen novels. He also graduated with a BA in Creative Writing from Fairleigh
Dickinson University in 2016.

Author Links

Twitter |
Instagram

Giveaway

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Giveaway for a chance to win

one of two ebook copies of
Pieces of My Life.

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Continue ReadingBLOG TOUR: “Ugly Beautiful People” by C J Bedell.