The Beautiful Moment by Kristoffer Gair

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Beautiful Moment

Author and Publisher: Kristoffer Gair

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Date: May 31, 2022

Genre: Contemporary Paranormal M/M Romance 

Tropes: Destined to be together

Themes: Grief, healing, true love

Heat Rating: 2 – 3 flames

Length: 76 000 words/366 pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Smashwords

Destiny offers the possibility of love and, for Wesley, the one thing that has eluded him his entire life: a beautiful moment.

Blurb

The decade from hell. 

First, Wesley Traylor lost his father and grandmother, then COVID took his mother. His sole remaining family member will stop at nothing to steal his inheritance. In desperation, Wesley escapes to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, where no one knows him and he can exist without fear of his uncle’s brutality.

Circumstances force Wesley to the emergency room and face to face with the beguiling Dr. Clark Matsuda. The last thing Wesley needs—between dealing with strange occurrences at his new house and emergency surgery—is a doctor who’s made it his personal mission to get to know Wesley.

Destiny offers the possibility of love and, for Wesley, the one thing that has eluded him his entire life: a beautiful moment.

Excerpt

Stephen gestured for a nurse to come back in. “Let’s talk out here.” He pulled Clark out into the hall. “No idea if it’s abuse, but his records might give us some insight, which is why I wondered if he brought them. Some of the classic behavioral signs are there; withdrawn, not the most charming when you talk to him and dig too deeply, guarded, and no contacts, except for an emergency contact, who happens to be a lawyer.”

“Also traits of someone who might be in trouble with the police.” Clark hated to admit it, but there was always that possibility. Wesley didn’t strike him as a criminal, though. Not at all, and that was Clark’s gut doing the talking.

“That crossed my mind,” Stephen agreed.

“Are you going to ask a friend of yours at the local Police Department to look him up?”

“No.” Stephen shook his head. “The reason for that is the burn marks on Mister Traylor’s feet. Like I said, I’m guessing they’re from childhood, so I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt and leaning more towards abuse. If it is abuse and someone is looking for him, any check my friend does will be officially logged, and it’s possible the wrong eyes could see the inquiry, and the location.”

Clark mulled the situation over. “I’ll see about getting him into the office, and getting permission to have his records sent here.” If nothing else, the records would be a start. Unless, of course, someone was monitoring to see if his doctor sent those records to a new location. Stranger things had happened, and if someone wanted to stalk or locate someone else, it’d be a logical strategy.

“Be careful with that, okay?” Stephen warned. “We have no idea what his story is, and it may not be something we want to get involved in, or even can get involved in. There was enough drama around here during COVID. You had some complications with the fallout of that yourself. Let’s not invite something else if we can avoid it. Plus, it’s probably not any of our business, or what we’re thinking it might be.”

I’ve had Dilaudid before, and morphine.

Why did those words keep going through Clark’s mind? Maybe Wesley’s story was exactly what they thought.

“He’s probably not going to give me permission anyway.” Clark thought back to his conversations with Wesley and cringed. Had he actually offered to bring the patient a bottle of wine after he recovered? Who does that? Someone who babbles when he’s taken by surprise. “I don’t think I made the best first impression. Am pretty sure he’s not the least bit fond of me.”

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” the nurse piped up from inside the surgical room. “You sure opened your eyes a whole lot sooner than I thought you would. Let’s get you wheeled into recovery.”

He woke up sooner because he didn’t want to go under.

Wesley must have used every bit of his willpower to open his eyes as soon as possible, even if he wouldn’t remember it because of the anesthesia. Or maybe it was fear. Fear could be a powerful motivator.

Clark heard the nurse adjust the pedals on the bottom of the gurney and unlock the wheels in order to move Wesley into the recovery area. He and Stephen stood to the side as the nurse wheeled Wesley out of the operating room and into the hall.

“Let me know if you find anything out, Clark,” Stephen commented, watching their patient go by.

“Clark?” Wesley turned his head slowly towards them, stared at the two doctors, or at least tried to. The poor man could barely focus. Wesley grinned, clearly still somewhat loopy from the anesthesia. “Yerr names is Clark?” he slurred. “What parents names their hot son Clarks?”

Stephen started laughing, reached out and put his arm around Clark. “Not fond of you? It sounds to me like he likes you just fine. You may even have an admirer.”

Clark felt his cheeks heat as blood rushed to his face. It looked like he’d have to get that bottle of wine now after all. That was, if he ever wanted to know a little bit more about how Wesley received those scars.

It may be like Stephen said. It may not be any of my business. 

What had Wesley said? You like my eyes. They hated me for them, but not you.

Who hated him? Who hates someone enough to burn the bottoms of their feet, or leave scars on their back, arms, and forehead? Just what the hell had he been through?

I’ve had Dilaudid before, and morphine.

Clark bet he had.

And I want to know why.

About the Author 

Kristoffer Gair grew up in Fraser, MI and is a graduate of Grand Valley State University. He is the author of 8 novels—some written under the pseudonum Kage Alan—been a part of 6 anthologies, and currently lives in a suburb of Detroit.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |   Twitter  |  Instagram

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The Fire Island Ice Queen by B.J. Irons #kindleunlimited #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Fire Island Ice Queen

Author: B.J. Irons

Publisher: Spectrum Books

Release Date: May 7, 2022

Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance – Beach Read

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Themes: Coming of Age, Embracing Sexual Identity

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 50 000 words

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

Goodreads 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK 

A Fire Island beach read that will melt the hearts of all ice queens

Blurb 

College law student, Connor, is a bit pretentious, high-strung and what some might describe as being cold as ice. After catching his boyfriend cheating on him and then being dumped, Connor decides to take his best friend Byron up on his offer for a summer gaycation experience to Fire Island.

While at Fire Island, Connor reevaluates his identity and goes through a deep soul searching experience to truly understand himself. While on vacation, he befriends a stranger named Lawrence, who encourages Connor to open up more and become lively. Lawrence proposes that Connor completes a series of wild, fun tasks, which he dubs as the Fire Island Ice Queen Challenge to get Connor to come out of his shell more. Will this frivolous and boisterous vacation at Fire Island be enough to melt the heart of this Ice Queen?

Excerpt

Chapter 1

“Ewwwww!” I exclaimed, noticing the skinny, shirtless guy dancing on the box out of the corner of my eye. He had two older men standing below holding dollar bills up at him.

Pathetic!

The whole scene gave me an unsettling feeling in my stomach. The boy reeked of desperation for attention and the old men reeked of desperation for the pale and frail twink. I was expecting to see his skin glisten like diamonds when the strobe lights moved on top of him. He was decidedly vampiric-looking, but lacked the hot features of Edward Cullen.

I rolled my eyes and diverted my focus back to my boyfriend, Derrick, who was beside me at the bar, ordering us another round of drinks.

“What are you ewww-ing about now?” he asked.

“Just that dirty ginger up on the box.” I pointed in the direction of him, now bending over on the box, getting the money tucked into his waistband by the two tragic geriatrics.

“Ugh! Why do you care about him anyway, Connor?” Derrick questioned me with a vexed tone in his voice.

He was right. I did care too much about how other

people behaved, dressed, acted, etc. I was a very judgmental person and I could recognize that in myself. However, I wouldn’t dare to let other people think that of me. As much as I cared about how others presented themselves, I cared even more about how I looked and how I was judged. I went to the gym every day, made sure I was the top student in all of my college classes, and wanted everyone to know that I was beyond mature for my age. I wouldn’t have them think any less of me.

But, I’d be out of my mind to admit this to my boyfriend.

“I don’t really care about him at all. It’s just an observation,” I confessed.

Derrick handed me my drink that the bartender gave him. “Yeah. But just let him be. He’s a young guy just trying to have fun. Clearly, he doesn’t care what other people think of him. If anything, you’re giving him the attention he wants by even making thatcomment.”

My boyfriend had a point here. I was giving him more attention than I should. And now, by having this conversation with Derrick, I was donating way too much of my time and energy in talking about him.

Derrick then reached for my empty hand. “Do you want to dance?”

I shook my head, recoiling from him. “Nah. I’m good. You can go ahead. I’ll chill out here at the bar for a bit. I wouldn’t be caught dead dancing out there.”

He simply shrugged and chugged his drink before turning around to head out to the dance floor.

I decided to take the now empty seat at the bar he left open. I glanced down at my phone and began scrolling through a few social media posts. This place was getting boring. Yawning, I checked the time to realize it wasn’t even midnight yet. What a snooze-fest tonight had turned out to be. Our usual friends had other plans and couldn’t make it out tonight, which left Derrick and me stuck alone with ourselves. I turned back around to try and pinpoint his location on the crowded dance floor, but had no luck.

I let out a heavy sigh, tapping my right leg up and down on the foot of the barstool. I had to really take a piss, and couldn’t hold it in much longer. But, at the same time, I didn’t want Derrick to come back and think I had disappeared.

However, I would only be gone for a minute or so. Oh well. I stood up and walked across the dance floor towards the bathroom.

“Nice ass!” I heard a man behind me say as he grabbed my butt as I scooted by him.

Dirty fucker! He was lucky I had to use the bathroom so badly. Otherwise, I would have turned back around and made a whole scene in front of everyone.

I pushed my way through the random guys chilling in the hallway leading to the bathroom, who were either gossiping or making out with one another. I opened the bathroom door and saw that the four urinals were occupied. One of the two stalls had the door halfway open, so I slightly kicked it to make sure no one was in there before I claimed it.

Locking the door behind me, I dropped my pants and released myself, letting out a light sigh of relief. I glanced down at the floor and could see a rather large shadow coming from the next stall over. There was definitely more than one person there. I could then hear a few wet and sloppy kiss-like noises coming from next door as well.

Like seriously!? Get a fucking room!

I flushed the toilet and walked out of the stall, shaking my head in disdain. Moving towards the sink, I checked myself out in the mirror as I proceeded to wash my hands. I rubbed my hand through my hair, making sure it was swept back nicely. My mouth gaped open at what I saw next. The door to the stall that was next to mine opened and the two guys emerged from it. The first was some random, cute guy who had a similarly toned body to me, except he had bright bleach blonde hair. Then, behind him, was Derrick.

Derrick was with that stranger in the stall!? What the fuck!?

I immediately turned around to face them both.

“Derrick! What the fuck!? Are you shitting me right now!?” I yelled.

About the Author 

BJ Irons works in the field of education as an educational leader and college professor. Many of his personal experiences as a gay man, have contributed to his works. Being a part of the LGBTQIA+ community himself, BJ hopes to continue to bring more fun fictional works to his LGBTQIA+ readers. The world could always use a little more color and fun.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Instagram 

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

one of three ebook copies of The Fire Island Ice Queen

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French Kiss by C F White #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: French Kiss (Flying into Love #1)

Author and Publisher: C F White

Cover Artist: Kelly Martin KAM Design

Release Date: May 30, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Opposites Attract, Instalust, Age Gap, Forced Proximity 

Themes: Coming out, Found Family 

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 58 000 words/232 pages

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

This is the first in a new series of standalone novels. The second book is due out in June.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Can a French kiss persuade an uptight Englishman to leave his city behind and start a new life in rural France?

Blurb

Clean-cut London businessman Dale Calverley doesn’t do relationships. 

Rugged French handyman Valentin Aubrey doesn’t do city men. 

When Dale hires Valentin to help him fix up his inherited farmhouse estate in rural France and sell to the highest bidder, sparks fly. 

Complete opposites, can they really expect their insta-lust to last beyond the storm that forces them together? 

But how can Dale walk away from a man so alluringly rogue as Valentin Aubrey? 

And how can Valentin expect a man so money-orientated to throw away his career and stay in the wilderness with him?

French Kiss (Flying into Love #1) is a Contemporary, Age-Gap, Hurt/Comfort, Forced Proximity MM Romance featuring an uptight English businessman with a preference for nameless hook ups and a rugged half-French handyman with a chequered past. 

Excerpt 

Stomach knotting, roiling, fluttering, Dale laid eyes on Valentin, axe held high over his head then swinging down to slice through chopped wood balancing on a tree stump. If that wasn’t the most spectacular thing Dale had ever seen in his entire life, he had no idea what was. He held his breath, lurking on the periphery and willing himself not to be seen. He wanted to watch. He wanted to gaze on that sight without fear. He wanted nothing more than to stare as though it was a show just for him. 

Valentin threw a chopped log onto a pile, wiping the sweat from brow with his plaid shirt sleeve and smearing mud across his face. He then set another on the stump and swung the axe. Voracious hunger surged through Dale as Valentin grunted, thrashing the blade down into the log. It was so barbaric. So feral. So wild Dale had to inhale a tantric breath. Flustered and ravenous, Dale lost all rational thought. He hadn’t seen anything like it before and his cock throbbed, unveiling his voyeuristic side and exposing him to his type.

He stared. 

And stared. 

And stared. 

Valentin stopped, then undid his shirt, wriggling it down his arms to drop to the ground, luscious, tanned torso now on display with those Angel-wing tattoos for Dale to feast upon. If Dale thought his heart had been pounding before, it then tripled pace. Valentin was so ripped. So defined. So masculine, and every outline of strength and sinew on his back, his chest, his stomach, his decorated arms as he lifted the axe and yielded it to cut through solid timber, had Dale’s pulse racing. 

Dale’s throat dried as animalistic desire raged through him, inflating both want and need. His dick stiff and rigid, demanding to see for itself, Dale could do nothing but stand and stare. 

Valentin glanced up, maybe sensing he was being watched. Was that a hunting instinct? He blinked, a cloudy rush of breath billowing from his lips as he exhaled into the mist. God, he was so savage. So rugged and raw. Dale should move. He should shake himself out and move. He should make up some utter bullshit of why he was standing there that wasn’t salivating over him chopping logs. He should pretend he’d heard something. He should, at the very least, stop staring. 

But what he wanted to do was take Valentin by the neck and kiss him. 

Valentin threw the axe to the ground, grabbing his shirt and sliding it on as he jogged toward him. “Dale,” he said, breath light and airy, so unlike the atmosphere between them, laden with desperation. 

Dale couldn’t speak. All words caught in his throat at the sight, at the scent, at the scorching skin exposed on Valentin’s chest that Dale wanted—needed—to touch. He’d never felt anything like this. Ever. It was so all-consuming. Mesmerising. Bewitching. It was so beyond any rationality and reason that Dale couldn’t comprehend what was happening to him. 

“Dale?” Valentin searched him. “Are you okay?” 

Dale forced himself to nod, breathing out a deep and rumbling, “Mmm, hmm.” 

“Sorry if I woke you. There’s a storm heading for us. Needed wood for the fire. It might pass us, but it’s worth stocking up the fuel while we can.”

Dale inhaled. All he could smell was Valentin. His sweat. His musk. His beard. Dale never wanted to breath in anything else again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Valentin frowned, then without a hint of warning he placed a palm to Dale’s forehead, his touch sending shockwaves sparking through him. 

Dale gripped Valentin’s wrist, digging fingertips into him, holding his hand where it was. “Valentin.” 

Valentin held his gaze. “Dale,” he breathed out. “I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

Dale dropped his arm to his side but refused to let go of Valentin’s wrist.

“Don’t make me.” Valentin’s voice was soft, shaky, filled with fear and worry yet had an undeniable growl of want. As though he was struggling to control himself. He trembled, glancing to their locked hands as he uttered with caution, “Je te veux.” 

About the Author

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

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

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

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

So strap in, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.  

Author Links

Twitter @CFWhiteUK  |  Facebook  |  Blog

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Blue Moon Rising by Amanda Meuwissen #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Blue Moon Rising (Moonlight Prophecies Book 2)

Author: Amanda Meuwissen

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Date: May 24, 2022

Genre: Shifter Paranormal M/M Romance

Tropes: Alpha with non-Alpha shifter (not A/B/O), reluctant hero, rebound relationship

Themes: Destiny, starting over, prejudice

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 76 000 words

This is book 2 in the Moonlight Prophecies series.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Dreamspinner Press

Sometimes the right answer is the part of yourself you are afraid to face.

Blurb

Alpha Jay Russell’s broken engagement may just be the best thing that ever happened to him. His ex-fiancé’s twin, Bari, is much more his type and straightforward about his flirting and desire to unite their packs.

Jay returns home after his misadventures in Centrus City to a new prophecy, an unknown enemy, and tribal unrest over a series of racially-driven murders. Furious, Jay is determined to bring whoever’s responsible to justice… but the unrest upsets the fragile peace he’s been working to achieve, threatens his new lover’s life, and undermines his position as Alpha, which makes investigating a challenge.

Can Jay and Bari work together to fight their inner demons—and a strange adversary dead set on returning to the past—or will mistrust and political machinations tear them apart?

Blue Moon Rising is the second book in the Moonlight Prophecies series. Fans of shifters, soothsayers, and shadowy villains will fall under Amanda Meuwissen’s spell in this suspenseful, sexy urban fantasy romance. 

Excerpt 

“I’m not texting or calling with what went on in Centrus City. Those events need to be explained in person. What’s Ursula asking?” Jay added as an aside, curious if she’d heard anything from the rumor mill.

“She knows you well.” Maximus scrolled through some of the messages. “Wondering if you’re bringing home any strays with your new husband.”

Jay cringed. He wasn’t even technically bringing home a fiancé anymore. It was better things hadn’t worked out between him and Bashir, but that didn’t mean what happened didn’t hurt. Instead of breaking things off between them from the start, Bashir had slept with Ethan—twice—before Jay backed out of the marriage himself. Jay just wanted to be someone’s first choice, but being a hopeless romantic didn’t mean he had luck in love.

“You’re not still poring over pack reports, I hope.” Bari appeared as if summoned, depositing himself gracefully in the seat next to Jay with a dramatic crossing of one leg over the other and leaning toward him. Bashir smelled like sandalwood, but Bari smelled like jasmine, another sign Bari was more Jay’s type, because that smell made his insides quiver, and scent was a common factor in choosing a mate. “Even an Alpha needs to take breaks, darling. And we’re nearly home! Well, home for you. Speaking of….” He batted impossibly long lashes, and his exaggerated nature reminded Jay like a slap to the face how different he was from Bashir in every way. “Foolish little ol’ me forgot to look into any hotels. I hope everything won’t be booked.”

Maximus scoffed at the obvious lead-in, but Jay had already intended this offer.

“No hotel necessary,” Jay said, enjoying Bari’s scent but trying to stay focused and hopefully not look as red in the face as he felt. “Only Max and our Magister are mated, so we have plenty of spare rooms at our den. We’ll head there once the train arrives so you can get settled and I can address my circle about what’s gone on the past few weeks.”

“You haven’t told them anything?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure they’ve heard whispers. While I intend to tell my circle everything, I’ll make sure it’s understood that talk of Seers, Focuses, and Nulls needs to be kept as only gossip for everyone else.”

“My pack thanks you for that,” Bari said with a gentle touch to Jay’s arm. He was very casually physical, another contrast to his brother. “I know you were gone much longer than planned. I hope everything ran smoothly without you.”

“Smooth enough,” Maximus growled, reminding Jay that they weren’t alone. “Are you an ambassador or a spy?”

“Max,” Jay chided him.

“It’s okay,” Bari dismissed. “I was prying. I won’t pretend like Bash didn’t ask me to keep him informed of the state of your city. But allies should be honest with each other.” He looked squarely at Maximus and grinned. “When I spy, I’ll warn you first.”

Maximus turned away with another scoff.

“But before any espionage, I’m looking forward to a better meal than the train food we had for lunch.” Bari returned his attention to Jay. “Would you like to get dinner later?”

In an instant, Jay was a flustered teenager again because he couldn’t think of a response. He wasn’t used to anyone being so forward with him, especially someone who’d almost sort of already proposed.

“He’s been gone for weeks,” Maximus broke in, “and you think he’s going to immediately start playing tour guide just because—”

“Max,” Jay chided again, which at least helped him find his voice. He knew his Second was only looking out for him, but being a good Alpha meant taking time for himself too, something he often forgot. “Pack business comes first, always,” he reassured Maximus, and then looked to Bari. “But I do have to eat. I’d love to take you to dinner tonight.”

There was that unique crinkle at the corners of Bari’s eyes that Jay had never seen on Bashir. “Marvelous. It’s a date. That is a very fetching shirt on you, by the way.” He lightly tugged Jay’s collar and stroked once more down his arm before getting up and heading back toward Theresa and William with a sly smirk.

It wasn’t that special of a shirt, Jay thought, just black with a few horizontal stripes in gray, but since he’d taken his jacket off during the ride, he supposed the short sleeves flattered his biceps well, which was where Bari had touched.

Jay realized he’d followed Bari’s retreat almost to the point of turning in his chair and quickly sat forward again.

Maximus stared at him deadpan.

“What? It’s just dinner.”

As soon as Maximus huffed and looked back out at the city, Jay couldn’t contain his smile. Just dinner—for now.

About the Author 

Amanda Meuwissen is a bisexual author, with a primary focus on M/M romance. As author of the paranormal romance trilogy The Incubus Saga and several other titles with various publishers, Amanda regularly attends local comic conventions for fun and to meet with fans, where she will often be seen in costume as one of her favorite fictional characters. She lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, with her husband, John, and their cat, Helga.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter

Instagram  |  Pinterest  |  Newsletter Sign-up

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win 

ebook copies of books 1 and 2 in the Moonlight Prophecies series

(or your choice of two other ebooks from the author’s backlist if already owned)

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My Name is Jimmy by Garrick Jones #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: My Name is Jimmy

Author: Garrick Jones

Publisher: MoshPit Publications

Cover Artist: Garrick Jones

Release Date: June 1, 2022

Genres: LGBT mystery thriller, LGBT crime fiction

Themes: Lies and deception, murder mystery, finding Mr. Right, war and its aftermath

Length: 17 930 words/53 pages

Heat Rating:  4 flames

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

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon AU  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Blurb

In 1947, James “Jimmy” Bacon becomes involved in a violent workplace altercation fuelled by a PTSD-induced rage. His boss, a fellow war-veteran, tells him to take a few months off work, have a holiday, go somewhere warm, and get his head together.

Jimmy decides to take a coastal steamer to the northernmost outpost of Australia, Darwin, the capital of the Northern Territory, to visit the grave of his oldest friend, Sandy, killed during the Japanese bombing of the city in 1942. Upon arriving, he discovers that Sandy’s death is not as simple as military records seemed to indicate. After learning that Sandy’s grave contains only an arm with no distinguishing features, he starts asking questions around town in order to find out what really happened to his mate. 

The more he asks, the more he discovers that Darwin is less about post-war reconstruction and more about drugs, gambling, and the excessive consumption of alcohol. It’s a lawless city where 95% of the population is male and prostitution is banned, creating a thriving underworld where rough frontier-town blokes and men from the armed forces are doing more with each other than having a beer and passing the time of day.

While digging deeper, Jimmy discovers a terrible truth, arousing the interest of men who would do anything to keep the past a secret—men who consider his life of little value. Jimmy is forced to rely on quick thinking and his army training when death comes looking for him in the dead of night.

Excerpt 

Tides in Darwin were monumental, sometimes more than twenty feet rise and fall twice a day. The harbour was still dotted with wrecks, the Indonesian bosun of the launch from the Pamanoekan taking us to the makeshift long jetty that jutted out into the sea from Mindil Beach happily pointed out the ships and the numbers killed on each vessel. The American destroyer USS Peary had the highest death toll: over eighty-eight killed during the raid and only fifty-three survivors. I had no idea; we hadn’t got that news, just that ships had been sunk and the town bombed twice. As we negotiated towards the beach, I saw two officials waiting at the end of the jetty. There were only six of us disembarking in Darwin, but there seemed to be a small crowd on the beach itself—probably about twenty men in all. I couldn’t imagine they were a welcoming committee; they were most likely blokes who’d decided to quit the town and sail on the Pamanoekan to either Broome or Perth to start new lives.

“Take care, Mr. Bacon,” the bosun said to me. “Darwin’s a hard drinking town, rough and violent. Too many blokes, barely any women. Watch yourself, especially in the pubs, most men in this hole like to speak with their fists.”

“Sounds like what I’m used to, mate. Don’t worry about me.”

“Got your military permit to go ashore?”

I patted the breast pocket of my jacket. Everyone had to have a reason to go to Darwin; in 1947, you still couldn’t just turn up there out of the blue. I’d applied for my permit with a covering letter from Sandy’s parents, asking me to take a photo of his grave. Reluctantly, it had been granted after I’d showed my service record to the dick at the permit office in Sydney. He was all of sixteen by the look of him. I’d slapped it on the counter and growled. His eyes had bulged a little, but he’d stamped it and called out “next!” over my shoulder.

I had six weeks in Darwin to get warm, find what I was looking for, and shake off some of my demons. The first two I was sure I could do; the last remained to be seen.

“Taxi, sir?” a thick-set man asked as I stepped onto the beach after being processed.

“Nah, I’ll walk,” I replied.

“Where you going?”

“Stokes Hill.”

“In this heat?” he asked with a smile, showing a mouth full of gold teeth. “That’s nearly an hour on foot, mate. Do yourself a favour and get in my cab.”

“Call this hot? I served in Ceylon, India, and Malaya, and finished my war in Burma and Siam, my friend. An hour stroll in the sun will do me good.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. When I asked which way I should go, he pointed in the direction of Stokes Hill then turned his back on me to ask a man and his wife who were standing not far away, looking stunned at their surroundings, whether they needed a taxi. Two years after the war, there were still bomb craters and uncleared tangles of broken palms on either side of the road that led to the jetty.

I walked down the beach for a bit then changed into my shorts and a singlet, threw my army duffel bag over my shoulder, and lit a fag. “Hello, Darwin,” I said to nowhere in particular.

I could have sworn it told me to fuck off and go back home.

About the Author 

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 CQUniversity.

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.

I write mostly historical gay fiction. The stories are always about relationships and the inner workings of men; sometimes my fellas get down to the nitty-gritty, sometimes it’s up to you, the reader, to fill in the blanks.

Every book is story driven; spies, detectives, murders, epic dramas, there’s something for everyone. I also love to write about my country and the things that make us Aussies and our history different from the rest of the world.

I’m research driven. I always try to do my best to give the reader a sense of what life was like for my main characters in the world they live in.

Social Media Links

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The Plans Trilogy Box Set by Addison Albright #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Plans Trilogy Box Set

Author: Addison Albright

Publisher: JMS Books, LLC

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs

Release Date: May 28, 2022

Genre:  Fantasy M/M Romance

Tropes: Arranged Marriage, Memory Loss

Themes: Virgin/first time, abduction, newfound courage, hope, royalty/princes

Heat Rating: 3 flames    

Length: 73 459 words

This is a box set of three stories that were previously published individually.

The three books in the trilogy, together, stand alone with no cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Reduced Price at JMS Books  

Universal Link   |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

Once upon a time, two handsome young princes fell in love, faced down adversity, and lived happily ever after. Until one romantic evening, they unwittingly ate a confection laced with a mind-wiping toxin.

Blurb

In this light fantasy world, four realms have settled into an uneasy peace. A surprise twist to a prearranged marriage agreement spawns this story of unexpected love, newfound courage, and heroic adventure. Join Princes Efren and Marcelo on their heart-warming journey as they sort through misleading twists and turns to defeat devious foes. Twice! Contains the stories:

The Contingency Plan: An untimely death throws a marriage arrangement, the final phase of a treaty, into disarray. Now the Crown Prince of Zioneven can make his own choice from among the princess’s younger siblings. As a royal son in the matriarchal sovereignty of Sheburat, Prince Marcelo grew up knowing Royal sons never married. Never. Period. Except Prince Efren isn’t from Sheburat, and he has other plans.

The Best-Laid Plans: A death that wasn’t what it seemed … A kidnapping that isn’t what it seems … Time is running out. Enmeshed in political intrigue, death, and a kidnapping, will Prince Efren untangle the web of clues in time to save his naïve young husband, or will Prince Marcelo dig deep to discover a previously untapped inner strength and determination to facilitate his own survival?

Change of Plans: Once upon a time, two handsome young princes fell in love, faced down adversity, and lived happily-ever-after… until one romantic evening, they unwittingly ate a confection laced with a mind-wiping toxin. Are their chances at rekindling their love doomed? Or will their ignominious new beginning propel them toward a more teasingly fun rapport?

Also contains three bonus scenes not included with the individual stories.

Excerpt 

With everyone now in attendance, Queen Giselle stepped forward. “Your Royal Highness, Ladies and Lords, and people of Zioneven, please accept our warm welcome to Sheburat, and I hope you’ll accept our sincere apology for the chaos in which you find us today.”

Prince Efren inclined his head. “Of course, Your Majesty. On behalf of Zioneven, I offer our heartfelt condolences on the loss of your beloved daughter.”

“Thank you,” Queen Giselle replied. “Sadly, our loss yesterday affects more than simply causing us private pain.”

“Indeed.” Prince Efren kept his reply short, perhaps diplomatically leaving it to Queen Giselle to either further the conversation toward whether or not he was ready to choose his alternate, or to wait for a time when her grief would be less immediate.

His mother would put diplomacy first, Marcelo didn’t doubt that. The conversation may or may not happen today, but it would occur during this visit. Diplomacy always came ahead of personal concerns.

“Although disappointment caused by the cancellation of the wedding we’d expected tomorrow is unavoidable,” Queen Giselle said. “I hope you’ll find a small comfort in knowing that you may now make your own choice of your future bride from among my younger daughters rather than the arrangement made on your behalf at the tender age of five.”

Again, Prince Efren inclined his head. “Sibling.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sibling. The terms of the treaty specify I may choose an alternate from among Princess Marcela’s younger siblings. It didn’t restrict the choice to daughters.”

Marcelo stiffened. What in the world could Prince Efren mean by that? Men didn’t marry men. At least, he’d never heard of such a thing occurring in Sheburat. Marcelo wasn’t alone in his bewilderment. Everyone on his side of the room stilled. None of the faces opposite them exhibited confusion. Was that an acceptable option in Zioneven’s culture?

It was only by mere minutes, but Marcelo did qualify as a younger sibling to Marcela.

For the first time in Marcelo’s recollection, his mother faltered. “Do…surely…but…”

Marcelo turned his head toward her, his wide eyes silently imploring her to voice an objection. Kemble may have recently grown complacent thinking herself in the clear, but she’d at least spent her life knowing she was the likely backup plan.

As a royal son in this matriarchal society, Marcelo had grown up knowing he would never marry. Never. Royal sons did not marry. Period.

He’d been perfectly happy with that knowledge because he’d never experienced the attraction that men outside the royal family felt toward women. In fact, he’d enjoyed knowing he would not have to merge his life with a woman’s with the expectation of having to bed her.

His gaze flicked back and forth between Queen Giselle and Prince Efren before settling on the prince. Prince Efren had kept his eyes locked with the queen’s, but as if sensing Marcelo’s scrutiny, his head turned to reflect Marcelo’s regard.

Marcelo’s heart thudded so vigorously in his chest, surely everyone in the room must hear it. His respiration quickened. That single word uttered by Prince Efren had shattered Marcelo’s understanding of everything he knew about the world and had expected in his life.

Queen Giselle remained frozen for a few more moments, her brows drawn together as she processed the unexpected direction of this discussion. She cast a brief, apologetic glance toward Marcelo, then lifted her shoulders in a barely visible shrug. “The treaty does indeed use that word. Prince Efren, the choice is yours.”

Marcelo’s stomach dropped as her words echoed through the silent hall even though he’d known in his heart that she’d put Sheburat before her son’s individual concerns. So, he felt no personal betrayal. It was who is mother had to be.

Prince Efren continued to stare at Marcelo as he firmly stated, “I choose His Royal Highness, Prince Marcelo. The wedding will proceed tomorrow as planned.”

Marcelo swayed as the blood drained from his face. How could this be? How did such a marriage work? Would he be expected to—

“Marcelo?” Suky’s whispered tone voiced her concern. “Are you unwell?”

She repeated the words, but from farther away. Or did her voice only seem distant? He wobbled as the people around him faded, and then, thankfully, this nightmare all went away.

About the Author 

Rainbow Award winning author Addison Albright lives smack dab in the middle of the USA. Her stories are gay romance in contemporary, fantasy, paranormal, and science fiction genres. She generally adds a subtle touch of humor, a dash of drama/angst, and a sprinkle of slice-of-life to her stories. Her education includes a BS in Education with a major in mathematics and a minor in chemistry. Addison loves spending time with her family, reading, popcorn, boating, French fries, “open window weather,” cats, math, and anything chocolate. She loves to read pretty much anything and everything, anytime and anywhere.

Social Media Links

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Twitter  | BookBub |  Instagram

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one of five ebooks from Addison’s backlist

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Dysfunctional by Isabel Lucero #kindleunlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Dysfunctional

Author and Publisher: Isabel Lucero

Cover Artist: Robin Harper from Wicked by Designs

Release Date: May 25, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Stalker, serial killer romance

Themes: Dark romance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 67 666 words/190 pages 

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

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Blurb

Ezra Hamilton hasn’t felt the warm spurt of blood flow through his fingers or the indescribable feeling of pushing a knife deep into someone’s flesh in a long time. Too long.

He’s been watching a man stalk women, curious as to what he’s doing with them. Ezra’s never encountered someone with similar dark tendencies before, and what starts off as genuine curiosity turns into much more when Kaspian turns the tables on him.

As their chemistry builds, so does the mistrust. They both know they can’t trust a killer, but their inner demons call to each other anyway.

When Kaspian’s impulsivity threatens to ruin Ezra’s freedom, he knows he has to stop him. Kas appears to be fixated on Willow—a woman Ezra works with. In an effort to not have to worry about her disappearance bringing heat on him, he tracks Kaspian as Kaspian follows Willow into a cabin in the mountains.

There, in the middle of a blizzard, secrets will be revealed and revelations made, but the chances of everybody making it out alive are slim.

Excerpt

“Are you planning on killing me? Or is that just reserved for women?”

I grin and take a sip. “I don’t plan these things. Not really.”

“So, then maybe I should take care of you right now. I could live in peace without the worry that you’ll run your mouth or decide to try to kill me one day.”

“I wouldn’t kill you, Ezra.”

“You couldn’t kill me, Kaspian.”

I bite my bottom lip before a smile takes over. “Don’t underestimate me.”

“Don’t play with me.”

“Like this?” I say, chancing a step in his direction as I slide my fingers into his waistband again.

His hand is around my throat in an instant. “If you even think about saying anything to anyone, I will end you before you even realize I’m a threat.”

“You’re always a threat.”

“Don’t forget it.” He eases his grip but keeps his hand in place. It’s probably because he just likes touching me, but I don’t mind it.

“We could work together.”

“What we do is different, and I don’t work well with others.”

My fingers unsnap the button before dragging his zipper down. “We’re similar, you and I. It could be fun.”

“I don’t have a reason to anymore.” He struggles to get the sentence out, long pauses between the words.

“Oh, you don’t think I believe that, do you? Maybe you had a reason to kill the first two, but what about the others? Was there a reason? Or did you simply have a need? An urge?”

I start to tug his pants and underwear down, and he keeps watching me.

“I told you. I don’t want to have to worry about moving again. I’m fine with the way things are now.”

“Are you?” I question. “Really?”

He ignores me, because he knows his answer would be a lie. “Now that you’ve gotten my attention, what’re you planning on doing next? Find more girls to follow?”

My fingers wrap around his shaft. “Would that make you jealous?”

He moans as I drag my fist down to his crown. “No. There’s nothing between us.”

My nostrils flare when I look at him. “I wouldn’t say that.”

His hand moves from my throat to my hair, yanking on the strands until my head is as far back as it can go. “You want me now, huh? That’s what this is? You’ve used the girls, you’ve killed them, and it’s my turn, right? You want me to take care of you? I’m supposed to fawn over you, care where you are and who you’re with? You want me to be the daddy you likely didn’t have? Is that it?”

I suck in deep breath through my nostrils, rage running through my veins as I clench my jaw. “Don’t. Do not mention him.”

His lips curl up into a snarl. Hardly a smile, but he’s amused. “Ah, I’m starting to understand. Daddy didn’t give you what you needed.”

“Shut up,” I say, releasing my grip on his cock and trying to push away.

He tightens his hold on my hair assuring I can’t go anywhere. He’s got maybe fifteen pounds on me, and it’s all muscle.

“Daddy didn’t give you any attention, did he? He didn’t care about you. Wasn’t there for you. Maybe he didn’t love you. Daddy ignored you, didn’t he?” His tone is nothing but mocking hostility.

“Stop it. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

His arm wraps around my back to keep me from fighting out of his grip, pinning my arms down in the process. He smashes me into him, his expression wicked. This isn’t Ezra. It’s Quintin.

“That’s why you need a man to obsess over you. You want that father figure, right? I’m guessing dear old Dad didn’t discipline you either. You seek it out in men. That’s why you like them dominant.”

“You couldn’t be dominant if you tried,” I sneer. “Mr. I-have-to-have-reasons. There’s no fucking moral code to killing. You don’t get to make up an excuse to justify why you did it. You did it because you fucking wanted to. If you can’t admit that, then—”

I’m spinning. He doesn’t let me finish my rant, because he releases his hold on me just to swirl me around and bend me over the kitchen counter. His cock presses into my ass while his hand comes down on the side of my head, pressing my cheek to the cold granite.

“Shut the fuck up.” His voice is like gravel—rough, and it sends a thrill up my spine. “You like commanding men? Then do what the fuck I say and stay there.”

He walks around me, his hand moving to my back while he uses his other one to open up drawers.

“What are you looking for?”

“Shut up.”

“A knife? You gonna kill me?”

A drawer slams shut, and when he has to lean over to open the next one, his hand on my back lifts slightly, so I take the opportunity and run.

About the Author 

Isabel Lucero is a bestselling author, finding joy in giving readers books for every mood.

Though born in a small town in New Mexico, Isabel currently lives in Delaware with her family. When not completely lost in the world of her next WIP, she can be found reading, or in the nearest Target buying things she doesn’t need.

Isabel loves connecting with her readers and fans of books in general. You can find her on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok

Social Media Links

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The Devil You Know by S. J. Coles #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Devil You Know

Author: S. J. Coles

Publisher: Pride Publishing

Release Date: May 24, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance, Mystery, Courtroom Drama

Tropes: Forbidden Love, Second Chance, Reformed Bully, Billionaire Lawyer/Client

Themes: Forgiveness, Journey of Discovery, Healing

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 98 131 words/ 402 pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Link  |  Pride Publishing

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

The law is about how you choose to represent the truth. Love is no different.

Blurb

Hilary Whyte believes that he has left his teenage troubles—and the person who embodied them—in the past. He has spent a decade building his career as a defense solicitor, believing that despite his troubled past, even the worst human beings deserve justice.

Now he has a promotion on the horizon as well as a fairytale wedding to his film star fiancé. On paper, life couldn’t be better.

But now he is being made to represent Dom Gosford, the boy who made his adolescence a living hell, on a double murder charge, and Hilary can’t be sure he is innocent. As the trial approaches, the two men are forced to travel a road of discovery, only to find that the truth of their connection goes much deeper than the question of who killed Lizzie and Dean Wood.

Reader advisory: This book contains a graphic description of murder and references to suicide, pedophilia, blackmail, pre-marital infidelity, and child pornography

Excerpt

Dominic finally turned around. Hilary had told himself many times in the last few weeks that he’d forgotten what this man looked like—that he’d successfully wiped the image from his mind, along with the sound of his voice. But as he took in the eyes, blacker than midnight, the hard, almost cruel set to a jaw that would otherwise be considered handsome, it was like Hilary was again sprawled on the PE changing room floor, that same face hanging over his, bloodied lips twisted and mocking, his fist raised for another blow.

“So, it really is you.” Dominic didn’t speak loudly, but it was like a stone had dropped into the silence of the room. “I could have laid a considerable amount of money on never seeing you again.”

“Well, I guess we would have both lost that wager. Shall we?” Hilary said, indicating the sofas and coffee.

“I’m good,” Dominic said, lifting his glass. “You help yourself.”

Hilary sat, ignoring the coffee, even though his veins were clamoring for caffeine. Fear that the coffee pot would shake in his grip was too real. Instead, he opened his briefcase and began laying the paperwork out on the narrow glass table. “It probably would have been better to meet at the office for this—”

“Too many flapping ears,” Dominic said. “My mother-in-law has some trust issues, to say the least.”

“We can manage here if you’re more comfortable. But just so you know,” he said, pulling a device out of his case and laying it on the coffee table, “I’ll be recording every session.”

“Still have trust issues of your own, I see.”

“So,” Hilary said, switching the recorder on, not meeting Dominic’s eye, “I’m up to speed on all the known facts of this case. This meeting is for me to get to know your side of the story in more detail and to help you prepare for what happens next.”

Dominic gazed at him thoughtfully. “I’ve been trying to remember… What was it we called you? In school?”

“That isn’t—”

“Lilywhite. That was it, wasn’t it?”

Hilary took a moment to steady his voice. “Let’s get one thing straight right from the start, Mr. Hart-Gosford,” he said levelly. “Our personal connection is one of the reasons why Walter Gunnerson wanted me to represent you. But all he knows is that we both attended St. Edmund’s.”

Dominic lifted his fine, black eyebrows. “If the good Mr. Gunnerson knew the truth, he might wonder why you agreed to take this case at all…as I do.”

Hilary looked him in the eye. “I’m capable of not allowing the past to affect my judgment. But if you insist on bringing it up, it will become a problem. Understand?”

He sipped his drink. “I understand.”

About the Author

S.J. Coles is a Romance writer originally from Shropshire, UK. She has been writing stories for as long as she has been able to read them. Her biggest passion is exploring narratives through character relationships.

She finds writing LGBT/paranormal romance provides many unique and fulfilling opportunities to explore many (often neglected or under-represented) aspects of human experience, expectation, emotion and sexuality.

Among her biggest influences are LGBT Romance authors K J Charles and Josh Lanyon and Vampire Chronicles author Anne Rice.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter 

Instagram  |   Pride Publishing

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The Fractured Fallen (D’Vaire, Book 29) by Jessamyn Kingley #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Fractured Fallen (D’Vaire, Book 29)

Author and Publisher: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: May 19, 2022

Genres: M/M Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes: Fated mates

Themes: Love, second chances, overcoming obstacles

Heat Rating:  3 flames   

Length: 89 083 words

It is not a standalone story, but does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads Series Link

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

For any chance at love, they must first be willing to trust.

Blurb

A proud fallen knight, Gentry Patterson likes to take people under his wing. Gifted with an easygoing nature, he makes friends effortlessly and, thanks to his love of cooking, often invites his inner circle over for meals. Gentry’s favorite week of the year is the annual retreat for his race, where he’s reunited with the many friends and colleagues he’s met through the years. The only thing that would enrich his existence is his mate, but he has yet to meet him.

Newly resurrected Tobias Kinsler wants to put his training behind him and make his superiors proud. However, Tobias is struggling. He keeps it to himself because he lacks people he’s willing to trust. With a mere few months of life under his belt, Tobias attends the fallen knights’ annual retreat and discovers his other half.

The two men have a sizzling connection from the start and waste no time binding their souls. Unfortunately, they will soon learn that secrets lurk beneath their growing friendship, and those secrets fracture the tenuous bond between them. As they chart an uncertain future, Gentry and Tobias must decide if they’re still willing to honor Fate.

Excerpt

Gentry relished the last bite of his dessert and grinned at Toby. “Did you want to dance?” 

The room had filled with soft music, which was perfect to sway to. Many couples were already near the stage, moving to the melody.

“I don’t know how.”

“I can teach you. We don’t have to do anything crazy,” Gentry assured him. 

Toby’s nerves and his lack of guile when it came to admitting everything he had no clue how to do endeared the fallen knight to Gentry. 

“Slow dancing isn’t too difficult,” Gentry said.

“This will sound crazy, but I’m not the best at physical stuff.”

“Oh, come on, only Juris Knights suck at physical stuff,” Gentry said with a laugh.

Toby leaned toward Gentry so no one would overhear him. “The Juris Knight at our table doesn’t seem to agree.”

“He’s frowning, but it’s true. I’m a fallen knight, I can’t lie.”

“I can’t tell if you’re lying.”

“Yeah, I think Fate did that on purpose. It’s so I can lie to you if you have on a truly horrible outfit. I’ll assure you it’s wonderful.”

“Please tell me if I’m wearing something horrible.”

“If you insist,” Gentry said. “You sure you don’t want to dance?”

“I’ll try, but I make no promises that we won’t embarrass ourselves and the entire Order of the Fallen Knights.”

“Not being perfect at something doesn’t mean we’re letting down our entire race,” Gentry said as he stood. Once again, Gentry held out a hand to Toby, who didn’t hesitate to take it after he rose. Gentry weaved between the tables with Toby in tow until he reached the cleared area that served as the dance floor. 

“Okay, what do I do?” Toby asked when they stopped.

Gentry turned to face Toby and put an arm around him. It brought them closer, and Gentry sternly warned his dick to behave. Without the need to be told, Toby mirrored his actions. Since they hadn’t let go of each other, Gentry raised his other arm so they were in the proper position to dance. 

“Just move your feet from side to side. We don’t have to do anything fancy. Follow my lead.”

“I can do that.”

Within a minute or two they synced their footsteps and were moving slowly to the lovely music piping through the speakers. 

“I told you it was easy,” Gentry said.

“I like being close to you.”

“We’re killing this mate thing so far.”

“You’re the first person who doesn’t make me nervous to be around them,” Toby confided. 

There was such earnestness in his pretty eyes that Gentry unconsciously came to a stop. 

“Are you okay?” Toby asked.

“I’d like to kiss you.”

Without a word, Toby raised up onto his toes, and Gentry wasn’t stupid enough to deny the invitation. Their lips met with exquisite tenderness. It was a moment frozen in time, and Gentry vowed to remember it for eternity. When Toby tilted his head, Gentry didn’t bother to resist darting his tongue out to deepen their caress. 

Toby moaned softly as they explored each other. While couples milled around them, Gentry lost all awareness of the outside world. He was steeped in Toby. They broke apart slowly, and Gentry stared into Toby’s stunned gaze. 

“I’m glad I waited for you to be my first kiss,” Toby said.

Gentry smiled at him. “I’m glad you did too.”

About the Author 

Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.

Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

Visit her website 

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

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The House with a Thousand Stairs by Garrick Jones

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The House with a Thousand Stairs

Author: Garrick Jones

Publisher: MoshPit Publishing

Cover Artist: Garrick Jones

Release Date: March 18, 2020

Genre: Historical gay novel

Tropes: Rekindling past friendships; the connection of spirits.

Themes: Cross-cultural relationships; connection through the love of the land; rebuilding lives after conflict; Indigenous beliefs and spirituality; farmer and policeman; Australian Outback.

Heat Rating: 2 – 3 flames

Length: 353 pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon AU  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Smashwords

Blurb

Warrambool

In Gamilaraay, the language of the Kamilaroi peoples of north-western New South Wales, it’s the word for The Milky Way. It’s also the name of Peter Dixon’s homestead and sheep station, situated in the lee of the Liverpool Ranges.

In 1947, Peter returns from war, his parents and younger brother dead, the property de-stocked and his older brother, Ron, having emptied out the family bank account and nowhere to be found.

The House With a Thousand Stairs is the story of a young man, scarred both on the inside and the outside, trying to re-establish what once was a prosperous and thriving sheep station with the help of his neighbours and his childhood friend, Frank Hunter, the local Indigenous policeman.

Enveloped by the world of Indigenous spirituality, the Kamilaroi system of animal guides and totems, Peter and Frank discover the true nature of their predestined friendship, one defined by the stars, the ancestral spirits, and Baiame, the Creator God and Sky Father of The Dreaming.

Maliyan bandaarr, maliyan biliirr.

Excerpt

Two days later, Richard Williams, Sparrow’s nephew, turned up.

Peter was standing in the old kitchen when he heard the car horn. He’d been shaving off his patchy beard and still had soap on half his face, so yelled up the side passage, “Out here!” He couldn’t be bothered shaving since he’d come back home and had let his beard grow for a few days. It grew thicker along his chin line than on his cheeks, and had got to the length where it looked untidy and scraggly … and it itched like a bastard.

“Jesus, look at you,” he said as Richard poked his head in the door. “You grew.”

“So did you.”

The first thing Peter noticed in his shaving mirror was how his boyhood friend had filled out. Dressed in a singlet under a pale blue shirt, opened to the third button from the neck, and overalls rolled down to the waist, Richard leaned against the doorframe, idly inspecting Peter’s back.

“Few war wounds, Pete.”

“You bring any back?”

“Only on my dick. Teeth marks mainly.”

Peter laughed, holding the razor away from his face so he didn’t cut himself.

“I bet if I had a good look I’d find teeth marks in other places, Dick.”

“No one calls me Dick anymore, except my uncle, Pete.”

“You’ll always be Dick to me,” Peter replied with a wink.

His friend laughed. They stared at each other in the mirror longer than men who hadn’t been close as teenagers might have done.

“Mechanic, eh?” Peter said, rinsing off his face and wiping his razor on a towel. He still used a straight edge.

“Here,” Richard said, “turn around, you’ve missed a bit.”

He took the razor and then scraped under Peter’s chin, nudging it upwards first with the back of his fist.

“I’ve missed more than a bit,” Peter said, pushing forward gently so their hips bumped against each other.

“I don’t do that anymore,” Richard replied with a smile.

“Yeah, neither do I.”

They both laughed.

There’d been a small group of boys, on the cusp of becoming men, who’d been close. They’d “mucked about together”, as it was called back then. They’d laughed and joked about it, compared sizes, talked about the girls they said they’d rooted, when every one of them knew each of them had lied. But then there’d been those times when a few of them would slip off somewhere together without the others, or meet up by chance with ants in their pants and find somewhere quiet.

Peter had been popular—the others had sought him out. He was happy to do the thing the others were leery of, or felt was somehow not manly. None of them blabbed about his ability to roll onto his tummy or lift a knee against a tree to let them have a go. He didn’t care what anyone thought. It didn’t make him feel any less of a bloke for it—he simply liked the feeling. His availability had always come at a cost, though. He’d invariably asked, “A ride there for a ride back?” And they’d always nodded dumbly, their knees trembling, knowing the reciprocal ride back was as rare as hens’ teeth. Dick Williams had been one of the few of his mates who had been happy to allow Peter to climb on after he’d had a turn, or to get on his knees and give him a gobbie afterwards to bring him off.

“Christ you’ve got some muscles on you, Pete Dixon.”

“Comes from doing push-ups with blokes on my back who say ‘I don’t do that anymore’.”

Richard snorted softly. “Guess that’s something you didn’t give up in the army?”

“I’ll bet you a fiver you didn’t either.”

Richard didn’t reply, he merely shrugged and looked over his shoulder out of the doorway. It’s what nervous blokes did, Peter thought. What have you got to be nervous about, Richard Williams? Those were his thoughts, but something below his belt had answered his question.

“So, we gonna go have a squiz at your truck?” Richard asked, offering his packet of tailor-mades.

“In a minute,” Peter said, shaking his head at the offer of a Chesterfield and then taking his makings pouch from the pocket of his shirt, which had been draped over the back of a chair.

“What you waiting for?”

“You to take your clobber off and get in there,” Peter said, tossing his head in the direction of the room in which he’d been sleeping for the past three days.

“I dunno, Pete … it’s been a long while, and as I said, I don’t—”

“Get in there, Williams,” Peter said with a growl as he lit his cigarette. “The squiz at the truck can wait a bit, there’s something in your pants I want a gander at first.”

He watched for a few seconds while Richard fumbled with his shirt; his hands were trembling. There’d always been a lot of chemistry between them. It was something he’d almost tasted the moment Richard had poked his head around the doorway.

“Let me unbutton your shirt,” Peter said gently, passing him his lit cigarette.

“Unless they had different names for them in the part of the army you served in, Pete, that’s not my shirt,” Richard said with a laugh.

“Buttons, buttons, shirt or pants, they all have to be undone, sooner or later.”

About the Author 

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 CQUniversity.

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.

I write mostly historical gay fiction. The stories are always about relationships and the inner workings of men; sometimes my fellas get down to the nitty-gritty, sometimes it’s up to you, the reader, to fill in the blanks.

Every book is story driven; spies, detectives, murders, epic dramas, there’s something for everyone. I also love to write about my country and the things that make us Aussies and our history different from the rest of the world.

I’m research driven. I always try to do my best to give the reader a sense of what life was like for my main characters in the world they live in.

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