Blog Tour: Defiant Loyalties by Elizabeth Wilde

defiantloyaltiesAuthor: Elizabeth Wilde

Title: Defiant Loyalties

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 23, 2015

Genre: Gay, Romantic Suspense

Pairing: M/M

Length: Novel

Purchase Links:

http://ninestarpress.com/product/defiant-loyalties-elizabeth-wilde/

 

Book Blurb

All Jack Preston has ever wanted is freedom: from his father’s oppressive political reign, from his mother’s dying memory, from his own guilt in the part he’s played to get George Preston to the top. When an assassination attempt is made on his father’s life, Jack is thrown into a dangerous game of lies and espionage, and as his whole world destabilizes, he finds himself turning to the most unlikely person for help.

Alex—the assassin who started it all; the man whose face haunts Jack’s dreams—becomes his only ally. As they come together to fight a bigger enemy, Jack’s attraction becomes a risk too large to take and too powerful not to. Will falling in love with a dangerous killer play right into his enemy’s hands? Or will Alex risk everything to protect the son of the man he was sent to murder? Loyalties will be tested and sacrifices made, but Jack will learn that some things are truly worth fighting for.
 

Excerpt

He approaches the thoroughfare in a daze, drugged off the powerful sensation of gravity tugging him home, and the shadowy figure he spots halfway down doesn’t concern him for half a minute or so while he happily indulges himself.

Until suddenly it does.

His steps falter but don’t stop, axis of gravity abruptly shifted, and now Jack’s walking toward the figure instead, in the grip of some terrible, warped sense of inevitability with his heart rate kicking up.

His boots against the ground feel like a march, and he finds he’s angry. Fraught with fear, yeah, but angry nonetheless. Worse, it’s a petty anger, a kind of outrage that’s got him thinking how dare you even though he’s almost positive he brought this one on himself.

The figure stands with his stance wide and easy and his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, casual as anything. He’s wearing All Stars and Jack has to be fucking hallucinating right now, spent too long obsessing over this with no exposure to the outside world to ground him.

The figure tells Jack, “Hey,” thoroughly doing away with that notion.

“Hey?”

The Goddamn assassin raises his eyebrows. “It’s a term of greeting.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jack snaps. “Gotta say, it’s a massive improvement from your first one.”

The guy shrugs a shoulder, mouth quirking up at one corner, and fuck, Jack had somehow forgotten how striking he was. Under the sodium lampposts, standing against the gray-shaded sugar maples, he’s almost otherworldly—or maybe that’s just Jack’s abused brain whirring, fever-pitched imagination running wild with him like a kid let out for the first time on its own.

“Is this it, then?” Jack goes on, still dripping in sarcasm. “Time to say my prayers?”

“Walk with me?”

Jack does an honest-to-God spit-take, levelling a glare. “Walk with you.”

“You can keep repeating what I say if you like.”

Jack does, thanks. “Walk with you?”

“You haven’t gone running to your armed guard for help,” he points out and then, with a quiet weight, “It’s important.”

I’m sorry about this. Jack hears it over and over, a litany always inhabiting him, and this man had stood in his father’s study with a gun, apologizing for a murder he was a split-second away from committing. Two days ago he’d handed Jack a threatening note, flirting with him while he did it.

Jack shakes his head. He wrenches himself away, one, two steps, turning his back on the face that’s been dogging him for a week now because if he doesn’t—

“Jack.”

If he doesn’t, Jack’s going to do something like fucking walk with him.

Back still turned, Jack states the very obvious. “You know my name.”

“Lotta people know your name. Your real one, anyway.”

He spins at that. “How did you—”

“This is important,” the man repeats gravely, but there’s still an easiness to his stance, a kind of open appeal. He’s drawing Jack in just like the flirting; good at his job, Jack thinks dizzily.

“Tell me your name, first.”

He doesn’t answer right away, sound of nothing but the trees swaying while he looks up at Jack with his head tipped down—really good at his job, then. There’s a definite reluctance there, but beyond that, Jack really can’t guess what he’s thinking; maybe games of chess in his head, working out moves and countermoves, assessing Jack for danger.

“Alex.”

Jack tries it out in his mouth—“Alex”—and finds it suits him whether it’s real or not. “Fine, Alex, let’s walk.”

Alex cocks his head, gesturing to the end of the thoroughfare so Jack supposes they’re heading away from the house and out into the city. A small mercy, at least.

They fall into step, Alex tossing Jack curious little sideways glances but otherwise staying perfectly quiet, until they come out onto the boulevard and under the open night sky, clear except for the spotty clouds moving time-lapse fast in the lower atmosphere.

There, Alex belatedly speaks. “You’ve been drawing attention to yourself.”

“That an art pun?”

Another curious glance and Jack stays looking resolutely forward; he’s really not sure indulging himself or this guy is the right thing to do.

“Maybe. Thanks for the sketch, by the way.”

“Oddly polite for someone who handed me a threat in return.”

“Which you didn’t take seriously.”

“So that is why you’re here, because I googled some asshole judge?”

“Look, Jack—”

Jack immediately bristles. “Why am I drawing attention to myself? What’s so important that you gotta follow me around town and spirit me away into the night like this, after you—after you tried to fucking—”

“I was sent to give you the note,” Alex interrupts, carefully placing every syllable like they’re practiced. “I wasn’t sent tonight.”

Jack turns his head, trying to get some sort of equal footing here. “And what does that mean?”

“I’m trying to help you.”

Author Bio

Elizabeth is a debut author from the north of England. With a long-time passion for writing, at eight years old she attempted to write and illustrated her very own Goosebumps books, as well as an ongoing series of solve-it-yourself mysteries, and several stories about a single lady living her life with an unfortunate perm. One day she hopes that practice will pay off, but until then she’s been recently adopted by two cats and gets by working for the government.

Email: libbydwilde@hotmail.com

Website: http://elizabethdwilde.wordpress.com/

Twitter: twitter.com/elizabethdwilde

 

 

 

Giveaway

NineStar Press is hosting a Rafflecopter Giveaway to run for the duration of the tour. Prizes will include a $10 Amazon Gift Card and a credit for a free book from the NineStar Press website. Below you’ll find the code for your blog.

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November 24th, 2015|Categories: Blog Tour|0 Comments

Release Day Blitz: Nightshade by Brooke Radley

nightshadenew

Nightshade by Brooke Radley

Eleanor Reed spent most of her life at the Darten Academy, trading her childhood for an education in magic. When the King’s Council comes to her with a mission, she jumps at the opportunity for adventure. The assignment is deceptively simple: infiltrate the Nightshade Brotherhood, the city’s infamous thieves’ guild, and confirm their responsibility for the recent emergence of a hallucinogenic drug.

Unfortunately for her, the Brotherhood hates mages. If they catch Eleanor, they’ll slit her throat and toss her in the ocean.

Hiding her identity proves to be an impossible task. Cassandra, a thief as beautiful as she is dangerous, sees Eleanor cast a spell during her trial for the Brotherhood. Rather than kill her, Cassandra offers her a position in the guild. Cassandra holds the key to success for Eleanor—but is she after something more?

Under Cassandra’s tutelage, Eleanor discovers that the Brotherhood isn’t quite what it seems to be, and the ever-growing drug problem is more complicated than originally anticipated. Whoever is at fault will stop at nothing to get what they want.

Things go from bad to worse when Eleanor realizes her growing passion for Cassandra. Will Eleanor be able to decide where her loyalties lie before it’s too late?

Book Links:

NineStar Press: http://ninestarpress.com/product/nightshade-brooke-radley/

Excerpt

The stranger introduced herself as Cassandra. With a sinking feeling, Eleanor knew regardless of how bad an idea it was to call attention to herself, she couldn’t help it. This woman had an inexplicable draw to her and Eleanor was caught in her trap.

She managed to introduce herself to Cassandra without further embarrassment. Just as Toby instructed, she only used her first name. She wasn’t sure if Cassandra had meant to do the same thing, but the other woman didn’t seem bothered by the impolite introduction.

While Cassandra ordered a drink from the innkeeper, Eleanor studied her profile. She had blonde hair, something unusual in the city. It was long, too—longer than Eleanor’s—and tied into a loose ponytail that fell well beyond her shoulders. As soon as the innkeeper left with Cassandra’s order, she turned back to Eleanor. “So what brings you to this part of Darten City?” she asked. The question was innocent enough, but Eleanor couldn’t help but wonder if it was a good idea to talk to Cassandra, much less anyone else at the bar. At least she would blend in better if she were engaged in conversation; she’d been quiet and alone in a dark corner for too long. Cassandra was as good a cover as any, she reasoned.

“I recently moved to the area,” Eleanor said.
Cassandra looked intrigued. “Is this your first time living in the city?”
Eleanor thought back to the cover story she and Ben had come up with. It had been a brief conversation, but at least it gave her something to go off of when he returned. “Yes,” she said. Then, hesitating, she added, “My fiancé and I came here for a better life. He found work at the shipyard.”

Cassandra’s face became unreadable. Had Eleanor done something wrong? But then Cassandra smiled. “That’s great! A lot of people come here expecting the worst—overcrowding, steep rent, not enough jobs to go around—but there are so many wonderful opportunities in the city, ones you can’t find anywhere else. You just need to know how to find them. How long have you been here?”

She and Ben hadn’t discussed their timeline, so Eleanor improvised. “Not even a week. We’re from a small village south of here and it’s rare to find someone coming all the way to Darten City who isn’t taking the main road. We got very lucky to find a trader to travel with.”

That seemed to appease Cassandra’s curiosity, and for a minute there was a lull in the conversation. Eleanor fought the urge to turn and look at the stairwell. That was, until Cassandra asked, “Is your fiancé still working? I hear the hours at the shipyard are bad for newcomers.”

“It’s our anniversary,” Eleanor said, this time remembering to use their cover story. Cassandra’s brow slanted in confusion and Eleanor realized she’d spoken aloud. “He’s upstairs,” she hastened to explain. “He wanted to do something romantic— candles, flowers, you know.” Cassandra nodded. This was the perfect opportunity to leave and check on Ben. He was probably fine, but this conversation was becoming personal fast and Eleanor wasn’t sure how many more questions she could answer by lying through her teeth. “As a matter of fact, I really should go see how he’s doing.”

Cassandra’s polite smile faltered for a split second, and Eleanor was sure she would have missed it if she had so much as blinked. The whole situation confused her, but she couldn’t dwell on it right now, not with the uncertain status of the mission looming over her. Cassandra’s voice was gentle as she said, “Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you from enjoying your evening.”

“Thank you,” Eleanor said as she stood. She couldn’t help but glance at Cassandra one last time. Their eyes met, and Cassandra gave her a soft smile.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Eleanor.” Cassandra tipped her mug in Eleanor’s direction. “If you ever need someone to show you around the city, I would be more than willing.”

Brooke Radley Author Bio

Brooke Radley is an office manager who lives in southeastern Virginia. She has a degree in English from Virginia Tech. When she’s not writing, she’s either reading or spending time with her two dogs. You can visit her at www.brookeradley.com.

Nightshade Giveaway

NineStar Press is running a Rafflecopter giveaway to run the length of the tour. We will be giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky winner. Below you can find the code for your blog.

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November 23rd, 2015|Categories: Release Day Blitz|0 Comments

Blog Tour: Will & Patrick Do the Holidays by Leta Blake & Alice Griffiths

Will & Patrick Do the Holidays Banner

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00075]Author: Leta Blake & Alice Griffiths

Title: Will & Patrick Do the Holidays

Series Title and Number: Wake Up Married, Episode 3

Publisher: Leta Blake Books

Release Date: November 23, 2015

Genre: Romantic Comedy M/M Romance

Tags: gay, woke up married, tropes, rom-com, mafia, forced marriage, disabled heroes

Heat Level: 5!!!! Super hot!!

Pairing: M/M

Length: 117 Pages

Book/Buy Links: Goodreads | Amazon | Amazon UK

Book Blurb

Follow Will & Patrick as they do the holidays in this third installment of the romantic-comedy serial, Wake Up Married, by best-selling author Leta Blake and newcomer Alice Griffiths!

A couple’s first holiday season is always a special time. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve are magical when you’re in love. Too bad Will and Patrick’s marriage is a sham and they’re only faking their affection for each other. Or are they?

Sparks fly in this episode of the Wake Up Married serial. Will the sexual tension between Will and Patrick finally explode in a needy night of passion? Or will they continue to deny their feelings?

Episode 3 of 6 in the Wake Up Married serial.

Excerpt

“Ah, the acrid smell of insulin in the morning.” Patrick’s voice is still gravelly from sleep as he turns on the shower and pulls down his black boxer-briefs revealing his tight ass.

Will looks quickly away and back to the syringe he’s filling by the bathroom sink. “I can never get the last dose to eject from the insulin pens. I always have to pull it out with a needle.”

“After living with you, I have an entire list of ways they can improve insulin pen injectors.”

“I should have my lawyer queue up an appointment for you with the pharmaceutical company.”

“You do that, puddin’-pop, and I’ll be there with a PowerPoint presentation. It’ll consist of four words over and over. ‘Do your damn job.’ If pushed, I might throw in a ‘Don’t make me do it for you’ as a closing argument.”

Will pinches a bit of fat from his abdomen and sticks himself quickly. He’s done this for years, but he never stops hating it. Especially syringes. They’re somehow worse than the insulin pens. “I’ll ask Owen to make that happen.”

Patrick snorts from behind the curtain. Will glances over and heat floods his gut as he notices the shadow outline of Patrick’s morning wood. “Oh, um, let me just—” He hustles to deal with the used needle and ends up dropping the syringe in the sink. The scent of insulin grows stronger. “Why does it smell like Band-Aids?” Will muses as he finally gets rid of the used needle and cleans up the syringe, tossing the now-empty insulin pen.

“It’s the preservative. Meta-cresol,” Patrick says. “Mmm, so clinical. So sexy.”

“And you’re so weird.”

“Nothing like the smell of a hospital to get my motor running.”

Will glances back at Patrick’s shadow behind the shower curtain. He’s still got a half chub flopping around as he washes his hair. Will clears his throat.

“Have you considered an insulin pump?” Patrick asks.

Will tries to drag his mind from Patrick’s erection. “I don’t want one.”

“Because?”

“I don’t like the idea of having something attached to me. All the time. Something I have to rely on to do its job.”

“You trust insulin pens have the right dosage, that the dial works, that they’re—“

“I know, Patrick. But I have the right to my own preferences when it comes to my medical treatment.”

“Fair enough. So what’s the deal with your daddy?” Patrick asks sans segue.

“What are you talking about?” Will packs up his testing kit and uses a black marker he keeps in his murse to make a dot on the back of his left hand. He can’t forget to drop by the pharmacy and pick up his replacement insulin pens.

“Papa Molinaro. What’s the deal with him and the holidays? He wasn’t around for Thanksgiving. Will he be dropping down the chimney on Christmas Eve with a bag full of presents for you and a nice hard dick for your mommy? Or what?”

Will rolls his eyes. “Thanks for that image.”

“You’re welcome.”

“He spends Christmas with his daughters. Or at least he used to. I don’t keep in touch with him.”

“Ah, the half siblings you’ve never met. So, no Christmas phone call from Papa?”

“No.” Will feels the familiar hot, impatient squirm of nastiness in his gut. Conversations about his father usually bring it on.

“No Christmas card stuffed with cash?”

“No card, no text, no Skype, no email.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“He’s obsessed enough with you to have you followed by mobster spies but he can’t pick up a phone. At best, that’s inefficient.”

“At worst?”

“At worst, Starshine, you have a deeply dysfunctional father/son relationship.”

“Wow. You really are a genius.”

Patrick barks a laugh and then begins to hum the new Madonna song he’s been singing off and on for the last two days.

“That’s still stuck in your head, huh?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Better than ‘We Three Kings’ mixed with ‘Scarborough Fair,’” Will mutters. Finished with his morning insulin rituals, he starts the water in the sink to begin his shaving routine. “Tony doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do, and being a reliable member of our family was never something he was good at.”

“When did you last see him?”

“It’s been three years. It can be ten more for all I care.” Will pumps shaving cream into his hand and smears it on his face. “He sweeps in on a whim, wreaks havoc on our lives, and sweeps out again.”

Patrick is quiet behind the curtain and Will glances over to see that he’s rinsing out his hair.

“There’s no pattern, unless you count my mom getting serious with anyone. As soon as my dad gets wind of her being happy with someone else, he has to come to town and wreck it.”

“With his dick.”

Will sighs. “Everything’s about sex for you, isn’t it?”

“Nope. A lot of things. But not everything.” He turns off the water and throws back the curtain. Will averts his eyes quickly, but his hands are already shaking enough that he’s not sure he should be trusted to shave himself. Patrick goes on. “But it’s all about sex between your parents. The Hurting Times churns with scintillating tales of your mom inappropriately hopping on your dad’s pole.”

“Like you know anything about ‘inappropriate’.”

Patrick laughs. “Like I know about that time they banged in the bathroom at some old lady’s funeral. The Hurting Times forum had pages dedicated to that one.”

Will’s ears grow hot.

“And, hey, for the record, even I know a funeral home toilet is a bad place for sex. Public bathrooms are tourist destinations for germs.” He shudders and slings a towel around his hips, thankfully covering his dangling dick. “It’s not sanitary.”

“You are such a jerk.”

“So you tell me.” Patrick grabs a hairbrush and runs it through his wet hair. The dark auburn looks almost brown and glistens brightly in the overhead bathroom lights. “There’s evidence of a genetic component to addiction.” Patrick’s eyes go foggy as he muses, “But is it addiction or abuse? Both probably.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You, mainly. But I’m also talking about them. If The Hurting Times gossip about the two of them is even half true, they are their own kind of addicts. Addicted to each other. Addicted to sex. Addicted to falling in love. Especially your mother. But it’s possible your father uses the intense sexual connection between them as abuse.”

“I…” Will’s fingers clutch at the razor and he drags it against his skin carefully. “I didn’t think you believed in psychology mumbo-jumbo.”

“I don’t believe in spiritual mumbo-jumbo. And, yes, psychology is a lot of bull-honky, but as a neurologist, I can’t deny that thoughts and experiences have physical effects on brain tissue. Dubious and whoo-hoo as most psychological theories seem compared with hard science. What’s your dad’s sign?”

“Really?”

Patrick shrugs and sidles up next to Will at the sink, examining his own face in the mirror.

Will sighs. “Early November. So, what’s that? Scorpio?”

“Ah. And your mother’s a Scorpio too.”

“How do you know? The Hurting Times again?”

“I know because I’ve met her.”

Patrick’s arm slides against his as he reaches for the can of shaving cream. Will moves slightly to the side but Patrick just scoots closer. Will can smell soap on his skin and shampoo in his hair. He wonders what those curls would feel like slick and wet under his fingers.

Patrick rubs on shaving cream and reaches for his razor. His naked chest slides against Will’s bicep.

Will tries to concentrate on shaving, but Patrick’s reflection in the mirror is distracting. His normally pale skin is flushed from the shower and his nipples are pink and peaked. Will clears his throat and scrapes his razor over his face again.

“Addiction,” Patrick muses on. “You didn’t stumble into that on your own. You drink…and your parents screw. That’s how these genes play out. And with both of them being Scorpios…”

Patrick’s arm rubs against him, and Will clicks his tongue against his teeth. Between this touching and Patrick’s speculation about his parents’ sex life, Will can’t tell if he’s going to pop an inconvenient boner or if his balls are going to shrivel up into his body.

“Two Scorpios can burn down a barn from the heat of their mutual orgasms.”

Ball-shriveling wins out. “Okay, well, this conversation has covered everything I never wanted to think about. I’m going to be late to work.”

Patrick studies Will in the mirror.

Will wipes his face clean of cream, decides not to care that he’s got one stripe of shiny skin on an otherwise stubbly face, and, grabbing his murse, leaves the sink to Patrick.

He dresses quickly. He really is going to be late. Not that anyone at Good Works would say anything to him.

“Do you have surgery scheduled?” Will calls out as he slides his wallet into his back pocket and hitches his bag on his shoulder.

“No.”

“Meet you here tonight?”

“Will there be more Capheus?”

“Yes. And more Lito.”

“It’s a TV date with the hubby, then,” Patrick says, stepping out into the room with his sharp grin in place.

The hubby.

“First person home calls room service,” Patrick adds. “Order stuff we both like. We can share.”

“Deal.”

“Oh, and Will? For the record, you’d still be hot even if you wore an insulin pump.”

“Thanks. But I’ll stick with the pens.”

Walking out of the pharmacy twenty minutes later with his new insulin pens, Will wonders what kind of sex Libras and Aries are supposed to have. You already know the answer to that. Hot enough to burn down a barn.

“God, just stop.”

He rubs a hand over his hair and decides to focus on the day ahead. He’ll take it one step at a time. Just like AA has taught him.

 

Author Bios

Leta Blake

image 

Author of the bestselling book Smoky Mountain Dreams and the fan favorite Training Season, Leta Blake’s educational and professional background is in psychology and finance, respectively. However, her passion has always been for writing. She enjoys crafting romance stories and exploring the psyches of made up people. At home in the Southern U.S., Leta works hard at achieving balance between her day job, her writing, and her family.

 

You can find out more about her by following her online:

On the web: http://letablake.wordpress.com/

On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/letablake

On Twitter: https://twitter.com/LetaBlake

 

Alice Griffiths

 

A long-time reader of romance novels, Alice Griffiths finally took the plunge into writing, teaming up with best-selling author Leta Blake for the ‘Woke up Married’ serialized comedy. A lover of tropes, Alice enjoys mining old ideas and putting a fresh, funny spin on them. Formerly working in the newspaper industry, Alice is now an art curator. She lives in Sydney, Australia.

 

You can find out more about her by following her online:

On Twitter: https://twitter.com/Alice_Author

On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alice.griffiths.7169

 

Tour Schedule

23-Nov 3 Chicks After Dark http://3chicksafterdark.com/
23-Nov Inked Rainbow Reads www.inkedrainbowreads.com
23-Nov Prism Book Alliance http://www.prismbookalliance.com
23-Nov Bike Book Reviews http://bikebookreviews.blogspot.com
23-Nov Unrandom Randomness http://bronwynheeley.blogspot.com.au
23-Nov Gay Book Reviews http://gaybook.reviews
23-Nov World of Diversity Fiction http://wodfreview.com
23-Nov V’s Reads http://vsreads.com
23-Nov The Novel Approach http://thenovelapproachreviews.com
23-Nov Joyfully Jay http://joyfullyjay.com
24-Nov BookWinked www.bookwinked.com
24-Nov Literary Nymphs Hot List http://literarynymphshotlist.blogspot.com
24-Nov two chicks obsessed with books and eye candy http://twochicksobsessed.com
24-Nov Sinfully http://sinfullymmbookreviews.blogspot.co.uk
24-Nov Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words http://ScatteredThoughtsandRogueWords.com
25-Nov Gay.Guy.Reading and Friends http://ggr-review.com
26-Nov JB’s Book Obsession http://jbsbookobsession.blogspot.com
26-Nov QUEERcentric Books www.blog.queercentricbooks.com
26-Nov Mikky’s World Of Books http://mikkysworldofbooks.blogspot.fr
27-Nov Abbey’s 1-Click Book Blog http://www.abbeys1clickblog.com
27-Nov Bayou Book Junkie http://bayoubookjunkie.blogspot.com
27-Nov Teatime and Books http://www.teatimeandbooks76.blogspot.com
27-Nov MM Good Book Reviews https://mmgoodbookreviews.wordpress.com
27-Nov Alpha Book Club http://alphabookclub.org

Giveaway

2 copies of Will & Patrick Do the Holidays (Wake Up Married, Episode 3)

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November 23rd, 2015|Categories: Blog Tour|0 Comments

Blog Tour: Raider Captured by J.J. Lore

BT_Banner_RaiderCaptured

AboutTheBook

RaiderCaptured_FINALTITLE: Raider Captured

AUTHOR: J. J. Lore

PUBLISHER: Dreamspinner Press

COVER ARTIST: Brooke Albrecht

LENGTH: 90 Pages

RELEASE DATE: November 11, 2015

BLURB: Is love possible between sworn enemies when the universe seems determined to tear them apart?

Sagiv, a genetically modified Atavaq fighter, is captured when his master’s raid on a Domidian ship goes wrong. Daran, a young Domidian science officer, claims the warrior for ransom and as a subject for study. As they spend time together in the close confines of the shipboard cabin, both learn more about the other’s culture, and against all odds, a fragile trust begins to form. But the ship is approaching a frontier outpost, where Daran will be expected to ransom Sagiv—even though it means condemning Sagiv to die for the dishonor of his defeat or suffer in the fighting pits. That’s if bounty hunters don’t find them first. Daran’s risen up the ranks through hard work and always following protocol, but he sees something in Sagiv that might be worth breaking the rules for the first time in his life—maybe even something worth sacrificing everything to keep.

Excerpt

His cheek was pressed to the soft rug on the floor. The material smelled faintly of perfumed wood, and he wrinkled his nose, unhappy something pleasant was intruding on his misery. To be the leader of the finest Creig raiding party one day and reduced to a worthless prisoner the next was a fate he’d never envisioned for himself. Sadness at his lost fellows settled over him in a cold wave, and he closed his eyes tightly until the sensation passed.

A sudden awareness of warm moisture on his body roused him, and he jerked upright as far as his immobilized arms would allow. Was the Domidian urinating on him? With a growl he sought the source of the sensation and was shocked to silence when he saw the young officer trying to apply a wet cloth to the phase wound on his hip.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning this up. It might become infected if I don’t.” The pretty boy gave him a measured glance, then concentrated on the rent in his skin. Sagiv took a breath and tried to hitch away but was brought up short by the manacles yet again. The Domidian’s vigorous application of the cleaning cloth hurt, but Sagiv was determined not to react. He might have fallen from his hard-fought stature as a skilled warrior, but at least he wouldn’t flinch like a weakling when someone washed his body.

“It looks as though you endured blade cuts, blunt instrument strikes, and some sort of percussion volley,” the Domidian said in a conversational tone. Sagiv gave him a glare that would have sent one of his minions cowering to the floor. At least it would have worked yesterday, when he still had underlings. Now his brother Creig were dead, wasted in this futile raid made at the whim of an impulsive master or three. His current condition didn’t matter; he was bred and trained to serve and fight, not to think of his fate or wish for any different life. The Domidian, for his part, merely absorbed the scowl with a slight smile. Superior bastard. “I’m going to work on the most severe injuries first. Basic triage. I have several accreditations in first aid and battlefield medical treatment, so don’t worry for your health.”

The young man moved on to the welts that covered his back, and Sagiv endured the ministrations with teeth clenched, both to stop himself from making a pained sound and to prevent the conversation this bare-chinned youth seemed to desire. As the Domidian’s words sank in, he couldn’t help the question that sprang to mind.

“Heal me for the execution?” Sagiv shook his head once. These damned Domidians had such perverse notions. If only he’d been lucky and taken a phase bolt to the forehead yesterday. The young officer stopped touching him, and his skin twitched.

“Execution?”

“Death to pirates, that’s the code in the cold reaches of space.”

The Domidian laughed. Sagiv craned his head to observe him. Even though he was brought low by his defeat and loss of his collar, there was no way he was going to be mocked by a spoiled boy.

“I follow a different code. The Domidian code.” The young man moved closer and pressed his fingers around the edge of the throbbing injury on Sagiv’s head.

Sagiv refused to flinch and instead decided to scoff. “Oh, yes, the code whereby you decide everything you do is correct and expect every other race you encounter to bow down before your magnificence.”

The Domidian’s full lips tightened and a spark lit up his eyes. “We cannot be other than what we are.”

“Arrogant whelp.” Sagiv’s stomach dropped when the young man smiled broadly. What was he doing engaging in conversation with the enemy? He was behaving as if they were at a rim world tavern sharing a flagon, far from the concerns of Domid and Atavaq politics. “Why are you treating me?”

He wanted to bite back the words, especially when he saw the intent expression of the other man.

“It is my duty to care for you. I have taken you as hostage proxy, and any ransom paid for your return will be mine.”

“Then you will be sorely disappointed.” Knowing that this boy would be deprived of even a small sum was the only achievement he could muster at this point. A Creig was worth nothing without the recommendation of a pleased master, without victories to bolster his reputation. The Domidian shrugged and pulled out a small case. He flicked it open, and Sagiv couldn’t help but look inside, sure he was going to see implements of torture. Instead, there were bandages and creams. The Domidian was going to help him. Pulling together the last shards of his dignity and rage, Sagiv decided to remain silent. No need to treat the youngster as if they were equals.

“You have a lot of bruising and contusions. Did all of these wounds occur in the altercation yesterday?”

Sagiv stared at the red carpet. Altercation. What a fine word for a muddled mess that had cost him so much. No, the majority of his injuries had been administered by his former masters as they’d assaulted him in the brig after their humiliating capture. No need to reveal that, or anything, to the Domidian. The young man waited a polite interval, then continued to speak as if there was a normal conversation to be had, all while he administered first aid.

“My name is Daran, of the Eridia clan. If you tell me your name, I’ll be able to initiate contact with your people and set up an exchange.” Daran waited for a response, but Sagiv pressed his lips together. He didn’t have a people, only assignments. Creig fighters existed on a different plane than civilian Atavaq, housed in exclusive barracks and given the finest in weapons, nutrition, and training. He jumped at the sensation of a warm ointment being carefully applied to the edges of one of the throbbing welts on his back. The wounds felt ugly, but he hadn’t been able to inspect them. Exactly what he deserved.

“I’m in service as a science specialist. I’m hoping you can teach me more about your kind. I’m very curious about you.”

Teach his enemy about Creig ways? Betray Atavaq? He’d die first. As the Domidian continued his treatment, Sagiv’s stomach boiled with regret and frustration. He slanted his eye toward the officer to detect what he was about and saw the other man frowning. Daran of the Eridia glanced up and hurriedly put a smile on his face.

“Your wounds, though painful I’m sure, are going to heal well now that you are under care. I was merely thinking about something else.”

The urge to ask what was strong. Sagiv wasn’t sure if he was interested in gaining more information about the enemy or genuinely intrigued by his unusual captor. The other man was treating his wounds and speaking to him as if they were partners. Equals. As if Sagiv wasn’t merely a tool to be repaired and sent back into service.

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AuthorBioJ. J. Lore has been interested in the dashing men who roam outer space since she was transfixed by Han Solo piloting the Millennium Falcon a long time ago in a theatre far, far away. Sadly, there is no way for her to join in the fun of intergalactic adventures unless she writes them, so that’s what she does whenever she isn’t taking care of the business of life. If you can’t find her typing madly on her sluggish keyboard, she’s probably poking around in a thrift store searching for the perfect pair of worn jeans or a vintage kachina bolo tie. These days she puts her anthropology degree to work when she whips up dishes from many different cultures, most of which benefit from a liberal dose of sriracha or a smear of green curry paste. Her favorite reading topics are costume history, epidemiology, and permaculture, all of which she’d like to work into a story if she’s suddenly overcome with a brilliant idea someday.

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November 11: Frosty’s Book Corner || Sue Brown

November 12: Cia’s Stories || Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

November 13: Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

November 16: Drops of Ink

November 17: Queer Sci-Fi

November 18: MM Good Book Reviews

November 19: The Land of Make Believe

November 20: Loving Without Limits

November 21: Love Bytes Reviews

November 23: Diverse Reader || World of Diversity Fiction || Nautical Star Books

November 24: Eyes on Books || Bayou Book Junkie

November 25: Divine Magazine

November 23rd, 2015|Categories: Blog Tour|0 Comments

Blog Tour: Jinxed by Sandrine Gasq-Dion

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AboutTheBook

JinxedFSTITLE: Jinxed

SERIES: The Rock Series #2

AUTHOR: Sandrine Gasq Dion

PUBLISHER: Skull Blaster Publishing

COVER ARTIST: Kellie Dennis

LENGTH: 52,000 words

RELEASE DATE: October 30, 2015

BLURB: Jinx Jett is a rock superstar. As such, the hunky Skull Blasters drummer thoroughly enjoys the many perks of willing groupies, earning him a reputation as the band slut. Making it big and scoring hot women is something Jinx never expected. There’s a little voice in the back of his mind constantly reminding him of how he used to be — shy, overweight and acne prone. One night in a gay bar turns life upside down when Jinx runs into Jayden Dempsey, a kid he’s been fantasizing about since giving him his autograph at a mall. Long-held insecurities keep Jinx from fully committing to anyone, and he may lose Jayden if he can’t put his past behind him.

Jayden Dempsey always wanted out of his life in small-town Alabama. When his parents kicked him out after he told them he was gay, Jayden decided the time was right to move on. He crosses the country to try out for ‘Singers!’, a show that propels unknowns to stardom. In a twist, producers choose him and three others as winners and form a boy band called London Boys.This season, the show brings Jayden and the guys back for the finale. Surprise! The contest’s heavy metal finalist will be singing with Skull Blasters.

Jinx and Jayden’s initial meeting doesn’t go so well, and Jayden’s stunned when the guy he’s crushed on for years turns out to be a total jerk. It doesn’t stop him from falling into Jinx’s arms every time they’re alone, but Jayden didn’t sign on for one nighters. He wants Jinx Jett, baggage and all.

Can a former teen outcast put rejection behind him and embrace the acceptance standing right in front of him? How much will one boy bander put up with from his rock idol before enough is enough? Can they make it work? Or are they jinxed in love?

Excerpt

“Can I get some clothes?”

“I like you in a robe.” Jinx waggled his brows.

I started for the door and Jinx jumped up and grabbed my hand. He pushed me into the wall and gently pinned my hands above my head.

“Jinx …”

I gasped as his thigh insinuated itself between my legs, rubbing my balls.

“Yeah?” his breath caressed my lips.

“I … fuck … stop doing that,” I panted.

“This?” Jinx raised his knee higher and rubbed my dick.

My God, my mouth actually started watering as Jinx leaned in closer to me, letting his tongue trail my bottom lip. I wanted to taste him so fucking bad my whole body hurt. I wanted him. I couldn’t deny it.

“Fuck, you are sexy as sin,” Jinx rumbled against my lips. “Love your lips, your eyes, even your fucking hair turns me on.”

I clenched my eyes shut and tried to stay in control.

“Yeah? Even if I’m a talentless pretty boy?”

Jinx stiffened. He pulled back slowly and searched my eyes.

“I’m sorry I said that.”

“Yeah? Why did you say it? What’s your problem with me being in a boy band?”

Jinx sighed and let my hands go. He rubbed his hands down his face and exhaled slowly. I continued to speak because by that time, my word vomit had begun.

“I don’t even like boy bands, but you know what? This is where I am and fuck it! I’m successful. Do you know I auditioned with one of your band’s songs?” Jinx’s gasp was very audible in the room. His eyes widened. “Yep, that’s right. I sang Manwhore; the song fits you.”

“I deserve that.”

“Are you going to tell me what your problem is?” I placed my hands on my hips, glaring at him.

Excerpt Part Two

“Jayden? What are you doing here?”

“I’m in the show.”

“Oh, are you a finalist? I didn’t see you in the lineup.”

“Nope. I’m last season’s winner.”

“Last season?” Jinx furrowed his brow. “I missed last season.”

Evander and the guys came back, trailed by Sebastian, Jericho, and one of the other finalists whose name I couldn’t remember no matter how many times I was reminded. Jericho winked at me and I smiled.

“Well!” Sebastian’s voice boomed over the empty stage. “I see you guys are all getting to know one another. This is Jericho, our first heavy metal finalist, and this is Scott,” Sebastian motioned to the other guy. “He’s more of an alternative kind of guy. Gareth, where are the rest of your guys?”

“Right behind us,” Gareth answered.

“Oooh, I sense some chemistry over there,” Scott crooned. “Heavy metal is joining the boy band? I didn’t know you liked them so … pretty, Jinx.”

“Wait, what?” Jinx spun around.

“Oh yeah,” Scott continued maliciously. “Jayden and his merry band of mates make up London Boys.”

Jinx spun back to me, a look of absolute horror on his face. “You’re in a boy band?” he almost whispered.

“Guilty.” I held up my hands.

“You like ’em, huh, Jinx?” Scott leered.

I wanted to slap Scott in the face. No wonder I couldn’t remember his name — it wasn’t worth remembering. Jinx backed away from me and I took a step forward.

“Don’t.” Jinx lowered his voice so that I only I could hear him. “I can’t believe you’re in a fucking boy band! You guys barely sing, you just go na-na-na-naaaa, and you don’t even play instruments!”

I recoiled as if I’d been the one slapped. Jinx was staring at me as if I were a serial killer. The anger boiled up and I lashed out.

“Fuck you, Jinx!” I stomped offstage, Evander hot on my heels.

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AuthorBio

AuthorPicBest-selling author, Sandrine (Sandy) was born in Inglewood, California. Raised by “Old School” French parents, she later moved to Tucson, AZ. It was there that writing became a hobby. Always told she had a great imagination, Sandy wrote short stories for her friends in High School. In college, she took more writing classes while working on her Criminal Justice degree, but it wasn’t until a soap opera caught her eye that she got involved in male on male romances. On the advice of a friend, Sandy dipped her toes into the world of M/M Romance. Sandy takes the writing seriously and has had countless conversations with gay men as well as hours of research. She’s been involved with the military in one way or another for over twenty years, and has a great deal of respect for our men in uniform. She’s traveled the world, but has finally returned to Arizona.

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November 2: Bike Book Reviews || Hearts on Fire

November 3: Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

November 4: Carly’s Book Reviews

November 5: Cia’s Stories || Jackie’s Book Reviews

November 6: Wicked Faeries Tales And Reviews

November 9: Drops of Ink

November 10: TTC Books and More || Eyes on Books

November 11: The Novel Approach || Nautical Star Books

November 12: MM Good Book Reviews

November 13: Gay Media Reviews || Cathy Writes Romance

November 16: Jessie G Books

November 17: Love Bytes Reviews

November 18: Bayou Book Junkie || Diverse Reader

November 19: Rainbow Gold Reviews

November 20: The Purple Rose Tea House || World of Diversity Fiction

November 23: RJ Scott

November 24: Sue Brown || My Fiction Nook

November 25: Daydream Believer Book

November 26: Loving Without Limits

November 27: Foxylutely Books || Lustful Literature

November 30: Multitasking Mommas Book Reviews

December 1: Man2ManTastic

December 2: Gale Stanley || Prism Book Alliance

December 3: Louise Lyons || LeAnn’s Book Reviews

December 4: A Celebration of Books || Elisa – My reviews and Ramblings

November 20th, 2015|Categories: Blog Tour|1 Comment

Blog Tour: Awkward in Love by Lily Adile Lamb

AboutTheBook

AwkwardinLoveFSTitle: Awkward in Love

Author: Lily Adile Lamb

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Length: 118 pages

Release Date: October 8, 2015

Blurb: Ilhan started off on the wrong foot with John, and somehow he always seemed to stay there. When the college student hastily looked away from the apartment building’s hunky maintenance man, John thought he was stuck up. When he tried to get John to knock on his door by leaving his trash out for pickup, John though he was a messy tenant. All he wants to do is get John’s attention, but he always seems to do it wrong…

John’s always seeing the little Turkish twink strutting around like a little peacock, in his too-tight clothes, but it’s hard to ignore that perfect little ass, no matter how bad his manners are. He’s nice to the other tenants, John knows, so he must be cold to John because of his job as a “mere maintenance man.” Too bad, because John would love to see what’s under those clothes.

Yet when one of Ilhan’s more embarrassing moments brings them together, each realizes they’ve been mistaken about the other, and also, so right. And all the awkwardness between them is washed away…

But when Ilhan’s conservative Turkish parents come to Perth to visit, and find their son locked in an embrace with another man, the stress of their demands could tear the two lovers apart…

Excerpt

When Ilhan opened the door, John almost gasped at the vision who opened the door. Ilhan was wearing tight, black pants with a well ironed black shirt. He’d rolled his sleeves up stylishly, and wore subtle eye makeup. The eye pencil he’d used only enhanced how vivid his blue eyes were. He was pretty sure Ilhan also used mascara, which made his eyelashes appear longer. He had a natural beauty, and full lips. They looked as if he’d been kissed, thanks to some lip gloss Ilhan used. As soon as he realized he was gawking at the handsome man, he coughed in embarrassment.

“Sorry for staring at you but you look incredible…sexy.”

Ilhan blushed and gave a hesitant smile. “So do you,” he responded with a hungry gaze.

John reached for Ilhan’s collar to pull him toward him. As Ilhan’s breath hitched, John gave him a quick kiss and asked, “You ready to leave?”

“Yes,” he answered as he gazed on John’s lips.

They drove in silence to Freemantle in John’s Ford Mondeo. As they came close to the restaurant, John turned and watched Ilhan’s face. When he saw him looking around with curious eyes, he smiled and reached out for his small hand to rest it on his leg. John drove holding Ilhan’s hand and feeling possessive of the owner of that hand.

“Like it?” John asked in a way that made Ilhan turn and look at him as they entered the stylish restaurant. It looked a little like a Rajah’s palace. Whatever John showed on his face seemed to make the Ilhan smile and nod his head in a way that made John feel reassured.

He smiled and put his hand on Ilhan’s back to guide him inside.

“I love it. Thank you for bringing me here,” Ilhan leaned forward and murmured, when they were seated.

“My pleasure,” John drawled as he rubbed Ilhan’s ankle with his foot discreetly. When Ilhan startled and bit his lower lip, John grinned. “What? You look unforgettable,” John purred. Before Ilhan could reply, a cheerful waiter interrupted them to ask what they’d like to drink before ordering.

Throughout the evening, John flirted and teased Ilhan, making sure he knew John’s intentions. John scooped the fragrant butter chicken’s creamy sauce onto a piece of tandoori roti bread and offered it seductively to his lover to be. He even sensuously licked his ice cream with laughing eyes.

“Oh. My. God,” Ilhan leaned forward and whispered with red cheeks. “I don’t think I can stand up, John!”

“Why, Ilhan? What’s happening? Is something wrong?” He looked at him with total innocence in his eyes.

“What? Are you kidding me? It’s you that’s happening right now, you tease! I have a raging boner and I’m wearing all tight clothes. The minute I stand up, everyone would know what’s happening here.”

Ilhan shifted closer to the table. “You’re mean… Yeah. A merciless meany. Now how am I going to stand up without giving that old couple in the corner a stroke? Hm? Hm?” He did his best to look cross but his sparkling eyes and lips struggled not to smile, showing how much fun he was having.

“That’s a lie. Take that back. I deny everything. You can’t prove anything. I refuse to accept I’m the cause of your discomfort.” John seductively rubbed his ankle against Ilhan’s leg again.

“Aii. I’m never going to leave this table now. But I’m okay, it’s obvious you want to spend the night here rubbing my ankle instead of doing other things at home… I understand that.” Ilhan patted John’s hand and grinned.

“Hmm. I see my error now,” he drawled and withdrew his foot. “You’d better be ready to stand up by the time I come back.” John stood and winked at the man who was stuck sitting at the table as he went to the gents. When he paid for the meal and returned to the table, he stood in front of Ilhan. “Ready?” he asked with his head tilted.

“Oh. Yes. I’m ready,” he quipped, knowing he sounded cheesy.

“So am I. Come on. Let’s go. Everything’s ready and your chauffeur’s ready to take you home, Mr Avci.” John leered at Ilhan.

“The words sound innocent but somehow I doubt you mean that,” Ilhan blushed, speaking softly.

“Invite me to your home and see,” John leaned toward Ilhan and rumbled in his deep voice.

Ilhan turned beetroot-red as he left the restaurant with John’s hand guiding him gently.

As soon as they got in the car, John grabbed Ilhan by his collar and brought his lips against his. “Open your mouth,” he growled.

Ilhan whimpered and opened his lips. John’s tongue was already prodding inside.

Ilhan mumbled against John’s mouth. “This isn’t as romantic or as comfortable as it looks on TV, eh. The console’s biting into me.”

“No, but I’m still having fun,” John mumbled, making sure he held Ilhan’s face so he didn’t back off.

“That’s because it’s me who’s trying to lean over you while you’re lying on your back thinking of…probably England?” Ilhan mumbled playfully, just holding back his piggy snort. He knew John had moved forward to help him, which warmed his heart, but he still wanted to play too. He enjoyed his time with John immensely.

“My God. Are you one of those talking bed partners? Fuck. Shut up and kiss me properly.” John growled, taking charge of the kiss before they drove back to Perth.

When they arrived back at the flat, Ilhan opened his front door, and turned to invite John in dramatically. “Come in, at your own peril. Mwahaha.”

“You, silly goose.” John grinned and grabbed him, pulling him into his arms and kicking the door closed. “I love kissing you,” he mumbled.

“Good cos I love you kissing me,” Ilhan whispered. They awkwardly walked to the sofa as they kissed. Ilhan mumbled against John’s lips, “This feels like you’re about to have your wicked ways with me.”

John could’ve rolled his eyes, but they were closed and he responded against Ilhan’s mouth, “No. It feels like I’m trying to kiss you while you prattle on.”

Ilhan answered back tartly, but ended up squeaking as John glided his hands to Ilhan’s pants. “I’m shocked! I don’t prattle on… Eeekk! Where are your hands going?”

“What? Oh! That hand. It’s trying to get in your pants to feel your bubble butt, but, fuck! Your pants are so tight, I think the blood supply to my fingers is cut off right now,” John said, and earned a piggy snort from Ilhan.

Ilhan’s shy responses were an indication of how inexperienced he was and it reminded John to be gentler. Humor and play were the best icebreaker at that moment.

Ilhan tsked playfully. “You sound like a quitter. Us Turks would never quit so easily. We’d fight till the end to win a battle. Aii! That hurt!”

“Shut up. You deserve that for your cheekiness.” John gave another playful spank to Ilhan’s bum.

Bonus Excerpt

“Hey, at least I’ve stopped trying to create rubbish so I could see you!” Ilhan quipped after sticking his tongue out at John, whose lips twitched as if he was trying hard to maintain his serious expression.

“That’s true, but now you ask me to check your water taps. Somehow all I do is kiss you, and taste desserts you’ve experimented with.”

“True…true. Water taps seemed like a legitimate excuse to lure you into my den at the time, though… Mwahaha. However, I do need your help with this new recipe. Come on, admit it. You liked my version of baklava the other night. I believe you’ll like this surprise even more.” Ilhan smiled faintly, rubbing his forefinger against John’s abdomen.

John groaned. “Who wouldn’t? They were filled with pistachios and honey. Actually, I think I saw a little crumb on your lips…here…let me get that…” John started kissing and licking.

“No. My lips are clean! You cleaned them the other night, remember? You keep cleaning my lips. I think they’re shining from your intense clean-up work.” Ilhan giggled, allowing his body to be pulled against John.

“You’re a very clean man,” John whispered against his neck.

 Ilhan giggled again, despite his growing hard-on.

“You know, we don’t have to stay in the kitchen, right? I do have a sofa in the lounge.” Ilhan sounded breathless as he absorbed John’s hardening contours on his back.

BuyLinks

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AboutTheAuthor

AuthorPicLily Adile works as a nurse by day and writes GLBT Romance by night. Lily’s focus in her GLBT stories are mere mortals because she believes that love is universal. Her mortal heroes and heroines are not rich, famous or incredibly handsome males with six pack bodies or stunning women… rather they are just everyday people who work hard and deal with whatever that life throws at them.

Lily believes that an individual’s gender identity and expression is influenced by many factors including but not limited to culture, religion, social restrictions, custom and beliefs…this makes one’s gender very diverse and fluid.

Lily is actively involved with Marriage Equality and stands by the same sex couples who want to have children.

Lily especially thanks her husband with all her heart for his endless patience, love and support. He is the love of her life and apple of her eye….he is the home she goes to at the end of a hard day at work.

Lily Adile was born in Ankara, Turkey and then worked in other countries. She visits her family in Turkey regularly and travels to Singapore to visit the other family members.

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November 20th, 2015|Categories: Blog Tour|0 Comments

Blog Tour: Nobody’s Son by Shae Connor 

IMG_1110TITLE: Nobody’s Son

SERIES TITLE AND NUMBER (if applicable): Sons, Book 3

PUBLISHER: Dreamspinner Press

RELEASE DATE: November 16, 2015

GENRE: Contemporary romance

TAGS: African American, coming out, diverse, family

HEAT LEVEL (1 being no sexual content, 5 being erotica): 4

PAIRING: Male/Male

LENGTH: 61,000 words

BOOK LINKS:

Amazon: http://amzn.com/B017L3NZTQ

Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=7050

All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-nobody039sson-1913999-149.html

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27245705-nobody-s-son

BLURB:

Who wouldn’t want a nice cup of tall, dark, and gorgeous? Shaun Rogers does. He’s working at the front desk of a clothing-optional gay resort when Conrad “Con” Brooks walks in. The sweet, funny, and smart IT guy is there to install a new network and security system, and sparks fly between the two men from the start. Trouble is, Shaun’s hiding his sexuality from his grandmother, the only family he has left, and that makes him reluctant to take the leap with Con.

Then a man claiming to be Shaun’s absent father shows up out of nowhere, throwing Shaun completely off balance. His life spiraling toward chaos, Shaun soon discovers that his “father” is hiding secrets of his own. When things come to a head between them, it’s Con who comes to Shaun’s rescue—but the incident could force Shaun into a decision he’s not sure he’s ready to make.

Excerpt

Shaun nodded toward Con’s shoulder. “Tell me about the tat?”

Con twisted his head to look down at the design, then looked back toward Shaun and shrugged. “It was the thing to do back then. Bunch of the guys were getting them. Mostly stars and song lyrics and stuff, but some of them tribal designs. I picked out this pattern partly because it was simple, so I figured it’d be easier and wouldn’t take all that long to get. But damn.” He shuddered dramatically. “It hurt like hell. Never had the urge to get another one.”

“I kind of wanted one a few years ago.” Shaun’s gaze wandered back to the design. “I never settled on what to get, though, and the urge faded.”

“I don’t hate it.” Con shrugged again. “But if I had it to do again, I probably wouldn’t. And not just because it hurt, either.”

Shaun gave him a slow smile. “Not into pain, then?”

Con laughed again. “Not that kind of pain, for sure. Whips and chains do not excite me.”

“Oh, honey, you are missing out!” Shaun looked up to find Xavier standing in front of them, a beer in each hand. He shook his hips at them. “A little slap-and-tickle never hurt anyone.”

“Slap and tickle is a far cry from cuffs and flogging,” Con pointed out.

“Eh, six of one….” Xavier winked and handed Shaun a bottle, and as he turned toward Con, Shaun’s gaze caught on the thin raised white line running diagonally across Xavier’s wrist. Shaun looked away quickly, not wanting to get caught staring, but his heart beat faster anyway. He knew what that scar represented.

Xavier walked away, oblivious to Shaun’s discomfiture, and Shaun took a sip of his beer, though he didn’t really taste it. Absently, he rubbed two fingers against his own wrist. Con’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I remember when that happened,” he murmured. Shaun jerked his head up to meet Con’s gaze, and Con nodded toward where Shaun’s fingers still lay against his wrist. “I probably shouldn’t tell you, for a lot of different reasons, but the truth is, his family kicked him out when he told them he was gay. That’s the escape he tried.”

Shaun swallowed, hard. That was his greatest fear, that if he told his gran how he’d been feeling, then he’d lose the only real family he had left.

“I know how he felt.” Con’s voice was voice low and smooth. “It took me a long time to tell my family the truth. Hell, it took me a long time to tell myself the truth. When I was a teenager and first started figuring out that guys did it for me, I told myself it wouldn’t matter. I liked women just fine, so all I needed to do was find one to marry, and the family never had to know about any of it.”

“Yeah,” Shaun found himself saying. “I’m not…. My gran….”

He couldn’t finish the thought, couldn’t force out the words my gran doesn’t know I’m gay, especially not when he couldn’t even use the last two words to describe himself out loud. But Con just nodded, and his voice stayed soft with sympathy.

“Trust me on this one,” Con said. “If you tried something like that, you’d be miserable. You’d spend the rest of your life fighting who you really are, or you’d end up breaking up your not-so-happy marriage because you can’t keep up the lies anymore.”

Something in the way he said that last made Shaun turn his head to look Con in the eye. He saw the truth there.

“I got out before we had kids, at least,” Con admitted. “Deanna got over me and found herself a good man. But I hurt her because I was lying to everybody. Especially to myself.”

He turned back toward the pool, where Xavier and Taylor stood in the water, arms wrapped around each other. “Everybody’s got scars,” Con murmured. “Some are just easier to hide.”

AUTHOR BIO:

IMG_1111Shae Connor lives in Atlanta, where she’s a lackadaisical government worker for a living and writes sweet-hot romance under the cover of night. She’s been making things up for as long as she can remember, but it took her a long time to figure out that maybe she should try writing them down. She’s conned several companies into publishing her work and adds a new notch on her bedpost each time another story is unleashed onto an unsuspecting universe.

Shae is part Jersey, part Irish, and all Southern, which explains why she never shuts up. When she’s not chained to her laptop, she enjoys cooking, traveling, watching baseball, and reading voraciously. You can find her hanging out on Twitter most any time @shaeconnor, but for the more direct route, you can email her at shaeconnorwrites@gmail.com or visit her website at shaeconnorwrites.com.

AVAILABLE FORMATS: PDF, .mobi, .epub

GIVEAWAY: One lucky winner will receive a $25 Dreamspinner Press giftcard and ebook copies of Unfortunate Son and Wayward Son, the first two books in the series.

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November 19th, 2015|Categories: Blog Tour|0 Comments

Guest Post by L.G. Fabio-Gonnella talks about Mark Julian Vampire PI mystery series

The Line from Erotic to Porn

First, a big thank you to World of Diversity Fiction. Blogs like this one are the lifeblood for authors in an ebook world. Second, humble thanks from me for being asked to guest post. My name is L.G. Fabbo-Gonnella and I write the Mark Julian Vampire PI mystery series.

My post is about the angst I, a writer, go through when trying to depict sexual activities in an erotic manner yet not stray so far that I’m writing porn. Okay, you can stop smiling now. Really it is an issue, which I think other writers experience…or hope they do so that I’m not the only one who obsesses over it. That would be too weird, right?

Getting back to my point.

When I write sex scenes I truly take my time in setting it out into print. I not only think about what I am describing but how to write it without using crudity or words that are too graphic or harsh for the book’s overall tone. As a writer I want the sex to stimulate the reader’s fantasy yet not…well… read nasty. For me it’s a continual balancing of what I think will turn the reader on verses crossing a line into what I call the “yuck” reaction from a turned-off reader.

Of course there is the opposite worry. I fear that in trying to be a tad vague or avoid using too graphic a word or set of words, I will fall into the “overblown” verbiage of a ridiculous prude. An example: he took the throbbing shaft of his manhood and let loose a volley of.…you get it right?

Another anxiety comes from the knowledge that my ideas on kink or novel sexual gyrations may not be interesting or erotic to the readers. Which is not to imply I have any right weird kinks or do novel…okay, stopping here!

Then the issue arises that, in a mystery series, you need to be inventive in sex scenes or else the sexual encounters of your characters fall into a boring repetitive pattern. They kiss, they get into missionary, they move to doggie etc. How many ways can you tell it and still be erotic and not seem crude?

Thanks to a certain book, current readers want a bit of rough in their sex prose {thank you so much Fifty Shades}. So the problem then becomes when is rough sex being erotic and when did you go so explicit in describing it that your scene qualifies as the prologue scene for a snuff film? The continual nightmare I call, “did I go too freaky in describing that sexual activity?”

I fear my dilemma in this area will never end. I want to be frisky and inventive in the sex I portray and hopefully I succeed. But I belonged to a generation that did not write about sex; we just engaged in it like rabbits. So blushing away I write my sex scene but know I look for that line in the sand that marks the border of good erotic sex and just good dirty sex.

Feel free to write to me: l.g.fabbo.gonnella@gmail.com

November 12th, 2015|Categories: Guest Blog|0 Comments

Blog Tour: The Case No One Foretold by L.G. Fabbo-Gonnella

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Title: The Case No One Foretold
Author: L.G. Fabbo-Gonnella
Series: Mark Julian, Vampire P.I., book five
Genre: Mystery, Detective, Gay romance, Paranormal
Length: Novel
Publisher: Ai Press

Synopsis

Two men engage in an altercation in a movie lobby. Later one of the men turns up dead in a New York City alley. But this is no ordinary murder. The deceased is a sex demon and his fellow combatant was the werewolf, Jean-Claude Roué, fiancé of Mark’s shape-shifter secretary. Now the werewolf is accused of his murder and faces a trial by before a supernatural tribunal. If Jean-Claude is convicted for causing this death it will mean his execution. This time however, Mark Julian is away on a personal investigation in Kenya so Tortego, the crafty vampire chief, goes to an unusual source to secure help. Using his powers as head of New York City’s supernatural community he appoints Mark’s human partner, Detective Vincent Pasquale, to be one of the three judges for Jean-Claude’s trial. Now Vinnie must not only fight to clear his friend, Jean-Claude, he must deal with his supernatural co-jurists: the werewolf Viola Lupa and the sex demon Dale Carter. Both of his companion judges are on record as sworn enemies of “any mixed supernatural mating.” Throw in a shifty shape shifter named Andelan Clarke, Ja-ne the original Oracle of Delphi and, a sexy TV newsman from the island of Guernsey who appears to be more interested in bedding Vinnie than nailing a story and it truly becomes “The Case No One Foretold!”

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Buy Links

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B016B0F3ZE/
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B016B0F3ZE/
Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B016B0F3ZE/
Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/dp/B016B0F3ZE/

Excerpt

The four grey robed figures sat around the wooden circular desk in the darkened stone-carved room. In the center of the table only a flickering flame, held in a bronze bowl, gave off any light. The rough cold walls were bare, giving the place a rather sinister atmosphere. Three of them were men and one a woman.

“I fail to see how hiring another killer will solve the issue,” the woman sharply stated in annoyance while staring over at the man seated across from her. “I mean the last set of vampire murders hardly solved the problem did it? In fact, that spectacular failure may have potentially cast a rather unwelcome light upon our activities.”

“I have to agree that your hiring another assassin to remove the persons on your new hit list was hardly inventive,” the tall man next to her added as he stared at the same person to whom the woman had just spoken too. “Besides, was killing all those other vampires truly required?” He grumbled. From the tone of his voice it was clear that he too shared the woman’s irritation with the person opposite them.

The slightly built male individual to whom they had addressed their criticisms said nothing for a few seconds. From his facial expression however, it was obvious to them all that he was inwardly seething over their comments. After a minute however, his face lost all outward hint of his internal anger. “I think disposing of those vampires who sat on that commission was unavoidable.” He calmly replied. “They knew too much about our plans, or else they had too many suspicions based upon what they inadvertently discovered in the records.” He gave them a chilling look; grinned at the discomfort it gave to the others in the room then continued speaking.

Giveaway

Prizes: 2 bundles of books one & two in the Mark Julian, Vampire P.I. series; 3 copies of Book One in the series, The Case of the Choirboy Killer

a Rafflecopter giveaway

More in the Mark Julian, Vampire P.I. Series

While each individual mystery can be read as a stand along, there are storylines that continue from one book to another, so we recommend you use the series in order:

Book One – The Case of the Choirboy killer

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L8H28U4/

Book Two – The Case of the Strega’s Touch

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LU0DNF8/

Book Three – The Case of the Heavenly Host

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00PD1LGKY/

Book Four – The Case of the Vampire Hunter

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0113C3UNM/

Mark Julian, Vampire PI Series

About the author

L.G.Fabbo-Gonnella is a resident of NYC. He has often said Manhattan is the underlying unspoken character in many of his books. “I guess its a love affair that I have with her,” he once said. “I could live here forever and yet still find magical things about her that I never knew existed.

When not seeking out interesting new locales for his books he can be found dinning with friends and enjoying all the city he adores has to offer.

Though he has not yet met the supernatural denizens of NYC, he does hope too one day. And yes, there is a “letter Lounge” albeit under a different name.

He can be reached at L.G.Fabbo.Gonnella@gmail.co
Facebook: https://facebook.com/Mystery-writings-of-LG-Fabbo-Gonnella
Website: http://fabbo-gonnella.blogspot.com

November 12th, 2015|Categories: Blog Tour|0 Comments

Review: Will & Patrick Meet the Family by Leta Blake & Alice Griffiths

Buy Link

Amazon

Title: Will & Patrick Meet the Family (Wake Up Married Episode, #)
Author: Leta Blake and Alice Griffiths
Cover Artist: Dar Albert
Publisher: Leta Blake Books
Reviewer: Sean
Genre: Contemporary
Type: Non-Romance
Pairing: Gay
Length: Novella
Heat Rating1 Stars
Book Rating5 Stars (5 / 5)

This book was provided by the Promoter/Marketer in exchange for a honest review.


Blurb:

Follow Will & Patrick as they cope with the fallout from their Vegas wedding in this second installment of the romantic-comedy serial, Wake Up Married, by best-selling author Leta Blake and newcomer Alice Griffiths!

Meeting the family is challenging for every new couple. But for Will and Patrick, the awkward family moments only grow more hilarious—and painful—when they must hide the truth of their predicament from the people they care about most.

Throw in the sexual tension flaring between them, uncomfortable run ins with Will’s all-too-recent ex-boyfriend, an overprotective mobster father, and a mafia spy tailing them around Healing, South Dakota, and you’ve got a recipe for madcap laughs and surprisingly heartwarming feels.

Episode 2 of 6 in the Wake Up Married serial.


Review:

Yet this novella was another excellent read and a great second episode to the serial. I got to learn more about Will’s family and they were complicated. Scary, yes, but complicated. The writing style flowed extremely well and I was able to enjoy without re-read to understand what was going on. Everything was explained clearly. It was also cool to learn more about Patrick. He may be a jerk, but on a deeper level, he wasn’t. I still adored Patrick more than any other characters.

I’m curious to learn more about Will’s mother. She seemed to be a strong optioned character. She did judge before get to know Patrick, but that would be what all mother would have done anyway. Will’s grandmother, on other hand, was an awesome grandmother! She was hilarious. I’m looking forward to read more between Will and Patrick. I have a great feeling things are going to turn out better for both of them even if they deny it. I believe they were meant to be together, but I shall wait and find out as I continue on reading the next episode. It was as excite as waiting for new episode coming up on television.

I highly recommended you to start first episode before starting this one or you would be completely lost since it cannot be read as a stand-alone novella. Start at the first episode and you’ll love this episode more.

November 10th, 2015|Categories: Review|0 Comments