Dirty Sweet Deliveries by Ally Vance & Yolanda Olson

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Dirty Sweet Deliveries

Authors: Ally Vance & Yolanda Olson

Cover Artist: Black Widow Designs

Release Date: August 30, 2022

Genres:  M/M romance – age gap

Tropes:  Forbidden love (best friend’s father)

Themes: Enemies to lovers

Heat Rating:  4 flames      

Pre-Order Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Everyone is an enemy—even now.

Blurb 

Mistreated, left to run wild on the wrong side of the tracks.

Bad enough to be a boy, but not bad enough to be a man.

Threatened with losing everything, I’m forced to reevaluate.

Poor life choices, with a chance to turn things around.

Second chances are a luxury, to everyone except for me.

The day I turned seventeen, my best friend picked me up from juvie.

I have a habit of taking things that don’t belong to me.

One look at his father, and I knew… I was going to take him too.

About the Authors

Ally Vance is an International Bestselling Author who writes in the Dark Romance & Horror genres. Ally has been writing since she was a teenager, and it had been a long-time dream of hers to finally become a published author. Ally lives in Kent, in the United Kingdom, with her husband, son, and their two crazy kitties; Kian and Declan.

Blog/Website  |  Facebook

Yolanda Olson is a USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author. Born and raised in Bridgeport, CT where she currently resides, she usually spends her time watching her favorite channel, Investigation Discovery. Occasionally, she takes a break to write books and test the limits of her mind. Also an avid horror movie fan, she likes to incorporate dark elements into the majority of her books.

Social Media Links

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Reigniting Chase by Jeanne St. James #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Reigniting Chase

Author: Jeanne St. James

Publisher: Double-J Romance, Inc.

Cover Artist: Golden Czermak @ FuriousFotog

Release Date: July 30, 2022

Genre:  Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Gay, mature (both characters over 40), small town, grumpy/sunshine

Themes: Dealing with loss, new beginnings

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 368 pages

It is a standalone story with no cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

An unexpected collaboration between two authors that’s hot enough to spark a fire…

Blurb

Chase

After an excruciating loss, I’m desperate for a fresh start.

Away from the painful memories.

Away from everyone I know and anyone who knows my story.

That’s how I end up in Eagle’s Landing, Pennsylvania.

As a bestselling author, my main reason for moving to a remote mountain cabin is to overcome the writer’s block that crushed my creativity for the past two years. My hope is to rediscover my words in the quiet, small town where no one knows me. Or my past.

A place where I can blend in enough that I become invisible.

Rett

Even though Chase, one of my favorite authors, insists he wants to be left alone, I refuse to let him wallow in whatever’s drowning him.

As a local bookstore owner and author myself, I’m intrigued by the man who’s a master of the written word. Unfortunately, his social skills could use a lot of work.

Even so, I’m determined to pull the irritable and frustrating man out of the dark pit he’s fallen into and back to the surface, no matter how hard he fights it. I only hope dragging Chase down that fiery path just might reignite his spark and that I don’t get burned in the process.

Note: Please check the content warning before reading or purchasing. It can be found at the beginning of the book (accessible by Amazon’s “look inside” feature or by downloading the sample) as well as on my website. This standalone gay romance has a guaranteed HEA, no cheating and no cliffhanger.

Excerpt 

I paused my fork halfway to my mouth. I had only made a small dent in the diner’s belly-busting breakfast special so far. It was criminal how much food the server had delivered for five bucks.

Five freaking bucks. On Long Island, it would have cost me at least fifteen.

And for only two more dollars, the coffee came with unlimited refills. If I could mainline that welcomed caffeine right now, I would.

My whole body ached and I was exhausted, not only from sleeping like shit in the motel, but from tackling the seemingly endless job of cleaning the cabin from top to bottom. I didn’t want the furniture I purchased down at a mom-and-pop store in Picture Rocks to be delivered until the place was completely spotless and all my unwanted roommates had been effectively evicted.

While I liked bats and knew they were beneficial, I just didn’t want to share the same space with them. If they returned to sleep in the rafters today, then I needed to find how they were getting in since I had covered the broken window with plastic-sheeting.

But all of that wasn’t what made me pause my eating, it was the man across the diner who wouldn’t stop staring.

Like me, he also sat alone, but unlike me, he seemed to know everyone in the diner. A local just like everyone else there.

The first morning, all eyes had turned in my direction as soon as I walked through The Eagle’s Nest’s door, but now the waitresses were used to seeing me since this was my third day eating in the diner, for both breakfast and a late dinner.

The food was good. The prices and attentive, friendly service even better.

Even one of the thirty-something-year-old waitresses had tried flirting with me. She had no idea she was barking up the wrong tree. Even if I was on the dating market, she was playing on the wrong team. While I had the utmost respect for women, I simply didn’t want to sleep with them.

However, the man who kept staring at me was most likely not on my team, either.

Was he staring because I was simply a stranger in a close-knit community, where everyone apparently knew everyone?

It couldn’t be because I was gay. While I had never hidden it, I also didn’t flaunt it and most women, when I broke it to them gently, were shocked to find out the truth.

Most men, too.

I’d heard, “My gaydar must be broken,” more times than I’d ever wanted to.

Even so, dating wasn’t on my agenda anytime soon. Or ever, since I had no plans on dating anyone ever again.

Life would be easier that way. Plus, at this point, being a team player didn’t matter, I preferred to remain a free agent.

Ignoring the man, I finished shoving the forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth, hoping the guy would get bored staring at me.

Still ignoring the man, I stabbed a piece of sausage, also shoving it into my mouth and chewing, hoping the guy would lose interest in whatever had caught it in the first place.

Continuing to ignore the rude man, I sucked down half a cup of black coffee, hoping the guy would simply fuck off.

Finally, unable to ignore him anymore, I dropped the fork on my plate with a clatter, tipped my head down and rubbed my forehead. I steadied my breathing in an attempt to lower my quickly rising blood pressure.

I only wanted to eat in peace. I wasn’t here to make friends, or even enemies.

I only wanted to be left the fuck alone.

But of course that wasn’t going to happen.

This was exactly why I left Long Island, everything I knew and everybody who knew me.

I wanted to live somewhere no one knew me or my backstory. I had gotten to the breaking point, swallowed up by pity on one hand, or people thinking it was time I “got over it” on the other.

I’d never get over it.

Not fucking ever.

“Fuck!” screamed through my head when the dark-haired man rose from where he sat at the counter. After throwing a few singles next to his plate, he turned and headed away from the entrance and toward my booth.

Of. Fucking. Course.

Dread rose from my gut into my throat and began to choke me. The man might have recognized me somehow.

Lifting my coffee cup, I peered over the rim to keep an eye on the approaching man. My muscles and spine stiffened more with every step taken closer to where I sat. Trying to mind my own business.

Trying to eat breakfast.

Trying to exist in peace.

About the Author 

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today, Amazon and international bestselling romance author who loves writing about strong women and alpha males. She was only thirteen when she first started writing. Her first published piece was an erotic short story in Playgirl magazine. She then went on to publish her first romance novel in 2009. She is now an author of over fifty contemporary romances. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages, including interracial. She also writes M/M paranormal romance under the name J.J. Masters.

Social Media Links

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Spanish Siesta (Flying into Love #2) by C F White #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Spanish Siesta (Flying into Love #2)

Author and Publisher: C F White

Cover Artist: Kelly Martin (KAM Design)

Release Date: July 29, 2022

Genre:  Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Friends to Lovers

Themes: Bisexual awakening, forced proximity, coming out

Heat Rating: 4 flames       

Length: 65 250 words/260 pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Universal Link

Audible US  |  Audible UK 

Can a Spanish siesta make Matt see his best friend the way Kieran’s been hoping he would for years?

Blurb

Matt Robinson just got dumped. Again. With his sister’s wedding on the horizon, he needs a plus one.

Kieran Barker has been in love with his straight best friend for far too long. It’ll never happen. Having already been left behind when Matt went to university, Kieran can’t take more heartbreak.

So when Matt invites Kieran to spend a whole week with him on the island of Majorca, Kieran can’t let himself think there’s more to it than lads on tour. All he can do is play the field to take his mind of the hot, rugby honed body of his oldest mate. Sexy men are in abundance in Magaluf, right? Matt only wants to cop off with the bridesmaid anyway.

But when Matt’s overprotectiveness about Kieran’s late-night escapades borders on jealousy, can he even dare to think that there’s more to their years of flirtations than simple bromance?

And can Matt really acknowledge his feelings when they’ll soon be returning to England, with him back to the university rugby team and two hundred miles away from Kieran.

Spanish Siesta (Flying into Love #2) is a Contemporary, Friends to Lovers, Bisexual Awakening, Forced Proximity MM Romance featuring a hot-headed rugby Fly-Half struggling with his emotions and an out-and-proud wannabe dancer suffering from unrequited love.

Excerpt

“Shit.” Matt grabbed Kieran by the arm, and shoved him back into the elevator, slamming his hand on any old button.  

“What the fuck, Matt?” 

The elevator shunted and they both had to grab the handrail running along the lift. 

“It’s going down!” Kieran widened his eyes. “How is it going down?” 

Matt didn’t say anything. His heart thumped and the foggy wooziness from the alcohol he thought hadn’t affected him crept up to make his head spin. The doors opened into a dark space. A basement, maybe? A cleaning closet. He’d hit the sodding service call button. 

Kieran reached out to hit the G but Matt grabbed his arm, preventing him then yanked them both out and into darkness. 

“What the—” 

Matt slapped a hand over Kieran’s mouth, “Shhh!”

The elevator doors closed, the lift moving up, surrounding them in silence. Kieran stared at him, eyes widening. Matt drifted his hand from Kieran’s mouth but held a finger to his lips. 

“What the fuck?” Kieran mouthed. 

Matt stepped farther into the dark space, checking the surroundings. He breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered they were alone then turned back to face Kieran.

“Why have you shoved me in a fucking broom cupboard?” 

Matt’s chest rose with the force of his inhalation. He tried to calm his thrashing heart. His invasive thoughts. His fear. His nerves. He couldn’t find any words. How could he explain? What would he say when he didn’t understand any of this himself? Rationality drowned by his thumping pulse, he closed his eyes to try to steady his breathing. 

“Matt?” Kieran’s voice was distant but calming. “Matt, you okay?” He placed his palm to his forehead. “Is it sunstroke?” 

Matt opened his eyes at the gentle touch, at the warm breath trickling onto his skin, at the unwavering concern in shaking lips. 

Matt shook his head. 

Kieran lowered his hand but Matt grabbed his wrist. 

“Matt? You’re scaring the fuck out of me.” 

“You think I ain’t scaring myself right now?” 

“Why?” Kieran’s question was shrouded by his sharp swallow. 

“Because I don’t know, Kier. I don’t know what’s happening.” He squeezed desperate fingers around Kieran’s wrist, glancing down to the swirls of his tribal tattoo and his breath hitched. “What’s happening to me?” 

“Too much sangria?” 

Matt pursed his lip, shaking his head. 

“Too much sun?” 

Matt shook his head. 

“You drank the tap water?” 

Matt hefted out an exasperated sigh. 

“Then, you’re gonna have to tell me.” Kieran licked his lips. “Because I’m all out of ideas.” 

Matt rubbed his thumb along the underside of Kieran’s wrist, eyes down, not able to look at Kieran as he contemplated what he should do. What he needed to do. What he was so desperate to do that it consumed his every breath. 

“Matt—”

Matt cut off Kieran’s words with a kiss. 

Kieran didn’t respond. He stood there, eyes wide as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. Frozen. Stunned. Accepting Matt’s lips on his. Shit. It was wrong. This was wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Fears confirmed, Matt pulled away, sinking back against the wall, telling his thumping heart he was sorry. 

Kieran didn’t move. He didn’t breathe either.

Then, he closed his eyes to exhale the words, “You better not be fucking with me.” 

Matt met his gaze through the shadowy darkness. “Give me half a chance.” It had meant to be a light-hearted joke. Something to lift the mood. It came out wrong though and Kieran reached for the lift call button. 

Matt held out his hand. “Don’t.” He hung his head. “Please don’t. I got this far. I might need help for the next step.”

Kieran dropped his hand away. Then, after several awkward moments of silence, he said, “You kissed me.” 

“Yup.” 

“You put your lips on mine.” 

“Yup.”

“You…were going to put your tongue in my mouth.” 

“Are you a fucking snog pundit? Do you commentate all your kisses in the dark?”

“No, Matt!” Kieran raked a hand through his hair. “Just the ones that come from my best fucking mate.” He slapped Matt’s chest. “My straight best mate.” 

“I don’t recall ever saying I was straight.” 

“You don’t have to, Matt. It’s implied in your heterosexual relationships.” 

Matt cocked his head. “Bit last season, there, Kier.” 

“I’m going to choke you with bog roll in a minute.” 

“Bog roll?” 

“We’re in a fucking closet!” Kieran flapped his hands at shelves and shelves of toilet paper and cleaning products. “Which is so damn ironic, I can’t deal.” 

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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New Audiobook – Legacy: Deadly Curiosities 5 by Gail Z. Martin

AUDIOBOOK TOUR

Book Title: Legacy: Deadly Curiosities 5

Author: Gail Z. Martin

Publisher: SOL Publishing and Tantor Audio

Narrator: Courtney Patterson 

Release Date: May 10, 2022

Genre: Urban fantasy with MM romantic elements

Tropes: Pirates, sea captain, soul bond, friends-to-lovers, magic, witches, Voodoo, visions, psychics, ghosts, monsters, bisexual romance, ghostly lovers, sex magic, omens

Themes: Found family, soulmates, loyal friends, eternal love, second chance at love

Heat Rating: 1 flame

Length: 7 hours and 48 minutes

It can be read as a standalone but is also part of a series. It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Note: Legacy isn’t a romance—it’s adventure/suspense with strong romantic elements. The two main romances in the book are between Gideon (sea captain) and Ramon (privateer) right after the American Revolution, and between Teag and Anthony in current time, and while the romances play an important part in the plot, the focus is on the action/mystery/supernatural elements. (Gideon and Ramon work forbidden magic to bind their souls together forever to protect the coast from a malicious demigod, and because they never want to risk being separated in the afterlife.) There are two secondary romances, an MM one between Dante and Coltt (privateers in the Revolutionary era) and between Cassidy and Kell (MF but nothing beyond a few kisses and cuddles). There is no explicit/on-page sex. Both Dante and Gideon are bisexual, and those pairings are important to the plot.

Also—there are massive crossovers between Legacy (and the whole Deadly Curiosities series) and my Morgan Brice series, especially Badlands, Treasure Trail, Witchbane and Fox Hollow. 

Buy Links

Audible US  |  Audible UK 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

The clock is ticking for Cassidy and her friends to stop the dark warlock, capture the goblin, and restore the guardian spell before a malevolent ancient entity takes its vengeance on Charleston and the coast.

Blurb 

Omens of impending disaster have the city of Charleston on edge. Tremors warn of earthquake risk, while a potentially catastrophic storm gathers strength over the ocean and heads for land. 

A last-man-standing promise among elderly veterans creates a dangerous inheritance involving an imprisoned, wish-granting goblin. A sea captain and a swashbuckler worked blood magic to protect Charleston from an ancient evil with a spell that bound their souls and their descendants to the task, but danger looms as its power fades. The head of a witch family wants artifacts and secrets—and he’ll do anything to get them.

Cassidy Kincaide runs Trifles and Folly, an antique and curio store where her touch magic helps get cursed and haunted objects out of the wrong hands. More than once, she and her allies have saved the world from supernatural threats. 

The clock is ticking for Cassidy and her friends to stop the dark warlock, capture the goblin, and restore the guardian spell before a malevolent ancient entity takes its vengeance on Charleston and the coast. It’s going to take all the magic, courage, and quick thinking they can muster—and for once, that might not be enough.

About the Author 

Gail Z. Martin writes epic fantasy, urban fantasy and steampunk for Solaris Books, Orbit Books, SOL Publishing, Darkwind Press, Worldbuilders Press and Falstaff Books. Recent books include Convicts and Exiles, Sellsword’s Oath, Inheritance, and Night Moves. With Larry N. Martin, she is the co-author of the Spells Salt & Steel, Wasteland Marshals, Joe Mack and Jake Desmet series. 

As Morgan Brice, she writes urban fantasy MM paranormal romance including the Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail and Fox Hollow series. 

Author Links

Blog  |  Facebook  |   Facebook Group  |  Twitter  |  Pinterest

Newsletter Sign-Up  |  Instagram  |  BookBub  |  Goodreads  | TikTok 

Amazon Author Profile

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Trans Deus by Paul Van der Spiegel #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Trans Deus

Author: Paul Van der Spiegel

Publisher: Perceptions Press

Cover Artist: Paul Van der Spiegel

Release Date: August 11, 2020

Genre: LGBTQ – Christian

Tropes: Trans Christ in modern day England 

Themes: Trans Christ persecuted by the religious, the transphobes, the haters; closeted Peter, terrorist Judas, addict Andrew, humanist Thomas.

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 75 000 words/ 249 pages

It is part 1 of 4 Queer Gospels – each one is a different take.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Trans Christ born in a modern-day, transphobic England

Blurb 

The Word was with God. The Word was God. Nothing was created apart from the Word. The Logos became a trans woman and she dwelt amongst us, full of grace and truth.

Four men have their lives changed forever: Jude, the terrorist sent to kill the transgender Christ; Peter, the repressed gay man grasping after a religion of certainty; Andrew, the slave to his sexual appetites; and Tom, the ardent atheist with crippling financial problems.

From the towns and moors of northern England to the shadow of the cross in the City of London… the light shone in our darkness and the consumer, military technocracy comprehended it not.

Excerpt

Tom Bauer scanned the myriad titles in the Selfish Help, Mind n’ Body, Religion, and Pop Psychology subcategories, publications propped and penny-stacked on white MDF shelves.

Pop Psychology? What’s the world coming to? Tom thought. What he wanted was Death Metal Psychology, Hip Hop Head-Help, Roland TB 303 Counselling: anything but fluff and bluff. He started to laugh, at book shops, at life, at himself for being such a useless sack of shit. How have I ended up here? he demanded of existence, desperate for a fix of some arsehole’s fake positivity? 

The woman stood next to him reading the inside cover of The Secret slid it back onto the shelf, then hurried away.

The man who didn’t believe in belief pulled a volume from the packed display and examined the recommended retail selling price printed beneath the barcode—the book was the same price as a leg of lamb, as three large chickens. How the fuck can I justify spending that? he thought.

There was enough money to last another couple of months. His personal account was overdrawn, as was the joint account. There was always the credit card and the emergency second credit card, the one that Kristin didn’t know about. The feeling of being overwhelmed, of drowning, washed over him. Tom was scared: scared that they could lose their house, scared that what had been certain, mundane, predictable was now fuzzy and nebulous.

He picked out a copy of the Selfish Help bestseller I can make you Bulletproof and tried to read the introduction, but the words expanded and went blurry against the paper. Kristin stepping up her working hours to full-time helped, but it wasn’t anywhere near enough to cover the shortfall in his wages: the choice was now which bills had to be paid. 

Tom knew that he was not on his own: across the Public Sector thousands of people were being let go, especially, it seemed, in the north of England. Every suitable vacancy had hundreds, thousands, of applicants. His mind flicked to the visit he had made to the Didsbury Job Centre that morning: there was nothing, not unless he wanted to be an amusement park squirrel on minimum wage. He had asked the stony-faced Employment Agency manager whether a drug habit was a mandatory requirement for the role. 

Some people have no sense of humour, he reminded himself.

Once he had been on an upward trajectory within society. Now, Tom visualised his family falling into the abyss of poverty.

Tom pushed I can make you Bulletproof with its free hypnosis CD back into the shelf. He stared at the rows of crack-lit books, at the dope publications, at the trash written by authors selling glass pipes and rocks to the vulnerable, pushers who peddled badly cut gear to existential junkies. Bluffers and bullshitters, he thought, the lot of youAnd yet, I want to buy your product, get high, face the inevitable come down, buy the sequel. The thought compounded his sense of despair. 

That was when Dave Lucas and Bob Nielson from the Salford Health Trust Planning Department strode past the end of the aisle and took their seats in the coffee bar. Tom had forgotten the two spreadsheet goons read manga and graphic novels for free during their lunchbreak. The last thing he needed was Dave—the Lurch lookalike in his X Files T-shirt—and Bob—his skinny anaemic monosyllabic sidekick—asking him how he was. And he certainly didn’t want to hear how things were going back at the office, didn’t want to see that “you-poor-bastard” smile, or, even worse, the sparkle of glee in the eyes of those spared the executioner’s axe. In Tom’s considered viewpoint, anyone who still believed in “love for your neighbour” need only set up a corporate redundancy programme to see the reality of the human: fuck thy neighbour lest thou too get fucked.

Bob Nielson—a sadistic un-helpful prick in Tom’s opinion—was the man widely suspected of being the elusive Phantom Logger, that desperado of the digestive system who delighted in cooking up foot-long turds and depositing them in the men’s third-floor toilets and leaving without flushing. A closed toilet bowl lid was a sure sign that Nessie was back in town. Neilson had been spotted giggling outside Trap One just before one particularly unpleasant discovery. Maybe Bob n’ Dave took it in turns, Tom considered, competing in their own ghastly gastrointestinal game.

How had those two morons survived whilst he’d been cast aside? 

He needed to escape the book shop ASA-fucking-P. Tom knew that if he had to engage in any form of communication with Beavis and Butthead, he was liable to murder one, or both, of them; bash their heads in with a British Bake Off cookery brick. 

Option One was to hide in the stinking toilets for an hour like a junkie. Screw that, Tom decided, which left him with Option Two. 

Option Two was printed on the flyer that he had been given by a smartly-dressed woman outside Boots the Chemist on Market Street, a piece of paper that announced Manchester Cathedral were running a lunchtime programme of speakers with that day’s febrile attempt entitled, “The Myth of Eden—a new approach to Genesis.” Having someone attempt to defend the Great Book of Fairy Tales enraged and fascinated Tom at the same time. 

He decided that facing down a representative of a misogynistic, homophobic, corrupt organisation staffed by paedophile pensioners would take his mind off his financial woes, even if only for a short time. Tom wondered if he could get thrown out of church for heckling. Watch out all you bishops and kings, he thought, the Pale Rider is at your gate

He paid for a copy of The Times at the self-scanning machine, extended it to its full height, hid his head behind the newspaper, and strode through the main door. Once he was on Deansgate, he stuck his tongue out at Dave and Bob through the window. The two men didn’t notice, but an old man drinking a latte from a tall glass stared at him in surprise. 

It took two minutes for Tom to walk to his favourite place in the whole world, the John Rylands library. Tom loved everything about the building—the décor, the stillness and, most of all, the collection of ancient writings, works that covered every aspect of the human experience across three millennia: legal, medical, science, and the history of tribes and lost nations. He could spend his entire life in this one library and still only scratch the surface of the knowledge within. 

Plus, it was free admission.

Through the glass entrance, through the gift shop and café, up the modern staircase, past the Italian tourists, then into the red-stone vaulted cloisters, and up the stone staircase to the third floor where Thomas reverently entered the Reading Room. There, he was greeted by old friends: Luther, Milton, Shakespeare, Goethe, and Calvin, evidently no girls were allowed in Enriqueta Ryland’s library, apart from the lady herself. Tom sat at the mahogany table beneath the statue of Gibbon. Trusting in the presence of this enemy of Faith he read the newspaper, searching all the while for the one-liner that would transform his life.

Tom finished the easy, then started the medium difficulty, Sudoku puzzle. Thirty minutes later, he had ground to a frustrating halt. Checking his watch, he noticed he was late for the Genesis gig at God’s gaff. He had a choice to make—sack off scripture or go and put the righteous in their rightful place. Still holding the newspaper, Tom legged it from the library, dove down Deansgate, veered along Victoria, and arrived, gasping for breath, at the Cathedral doors. 

The presentation in the Saviour Chapel had already begun and all the black metal chairs had been taken. Tom edged right and stood, leaning against the cold stone wall. 

A blonde woman in jeans and a blue t-shirt prowled the front of the chapel. “Clothes are made from the cotton plant,” she said to her audience, “from animal hide, from nylon that is made from oil found under the seabed. Clothes are human constructs of naturally occurring materials. Gravity is a physical law, but our certainty that the universe is a matter machine is a human construct, a metaphor. Even when we are given fact, we fashion it into meaning to wear about our person.” 

“Amen,” a man in front of Tom said.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tom muttered, shaking his head, realisation dawning on him that he had made a dreadful mistake. 

“Our certainties adjust during our lifetime,” the woman said, “new knowledge and different learning become more important, people we love die, friends change, our pets grow old and die, the world around us changes, new roads are built, and our favourite breakfast cereal has a packaging redesign.”

To his left was a disabled man in a wheelchair—twisted limbs, twisted face, thick oversized ears, and jam-jar spectacles. Tom averted his gaze. Poor sod, he thought. It would have been better for him, for his family, for society, if he’d never been born.

“That which is our reality, our certainty, is but a metaphor. It is unreal in the sense that it is a construct of a construct. All our certainties are torn down at our death. We arrive at check-in stark naked and shivering, belonging to no culture and belonging to all. Stripped of all that we have ever wrapped around ourselves, what is left?”

You’re shit-boring, love, Tom thought. Wish I hadn’t come now. Behind the altar, a huge red curtain hung from the roof. Tom was struck by how much the church resembled the 2-3-74 temple in Ultimate Negation 2—the first-person shooter game that had used a digitised version of the building as the backdrop for all-out war between the remnants of humanity and hordes of gun-toting alien invaders. The Church authorities had claimed on the TV news that their Cathedral was a “space for grace,” and the Japanese corporation who had produced the game had violated this sacred principle. Tom had never heard anything so stupid in all his life: most city-centre tourist attractions would give their right arm for that kind of publicity.

About the Author 

I am the author of Trans Deus, 7 Minutes, Parably Not, and A Particular Friendship. My stories are about the intersection of faith and sexuality. I am a William Blake obsessive, and I’m working on new books with Blake’s themes – sex and gender, revelation and rebellion – at the heart of the narrative.

Author Links

Blog   |   Twitter

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Blog Tour – Novas Got Nerve by B L Jones #giveaway

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Novas Got Nerve

Author: BL Jones

Publisher: Ninestar Press

Cover Artist: Jaycee DeLorenzo

Release Date: June 14, 2022

Genres: Sci-fi/paranormal/urban fantasy, action/romance thriller, Superhero/supervillain. Magic/superpowers. 

Tropes: Found family, slow burn romance, tragic past, orphan, emotional scars, Best friends older brother, love triangle, antagonistic romance, love/hate relationship, Opposites attract 

Themes: Emotional trauma. What makes a hero? Found family. Not being defined by your parents’ actions/by your past.

Heat Rating: 2 flames   

Length: 165 000 words/585 pages

It is not a standalone book and is part of a series (Liquid Onyx series)

The book ends on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

NineStar Press  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

He has far too much nerve. He can blow things up with his mind. He’s got anxiety. Yeah. The world should probably brace itself for this one.

Blurb

British superheroes, melodramatic Mages, snarky secret agents, one hell of a found family, and a whole load of weird people.

Also, there’s a duck.

This is the painfully bizarre origin story of Rexley Nova.

When Rex was four years old, he became one of the world’s first superhumans.

When Rex turns twenty, he feels the drive to use his scientifically given abilities to protect the world. He leaves home to become a member of the Secret Superhero Security unit, alongside three of his friends and Danger City’s own superhero, Polaris.

Rex fights murderous Mages, evil organisations, criminal mafias, his agency appointed psychiatrist, his own anxious brain, and the most frightening of all, his attraction to a certain blue-eyed superhero.

Excerpt 

“Come on, North,” I say, coaxing, spitting blood out of my mouth. “Don’t be nice.” I get as close as he’ll let me. “Treat me like you’re paying for it.”

Damon’s nose flares, and his lips curl to form a jagged snarl. His expression changing from robot to human in zero point five seconds flat. He makes a low sound that’s just the right side of threatening to be a problem for me. And not in the way it should be a problem for me.

Damon catches my arm at the right angle and twists me around so my back is pressed against his front. He wraps an arm securely around my waist, hauling me in even closer. A blaze of heat singes along my nerves when Damon runs his hand under my T-shirt, his fingers dragging over the hot skin of my belly. I try to kill it dead, the vulnerable quiver his intimate touch invokes, but that just makes it worse.

A full-on no-shit bonfire lights up inside my stomach. It sends a fucked-up message to my head, which in turn sends an even more fucked-up message to my cock. It’s like my body is playing telephone with itself.

You’re not supposed to want to get off with the bloke who’s making you bruise and bleed. Not without a serious discussion about it beforehand, anyway.

Pretty sure Damon and I aren’t going to be doing anything that sensible. Especially since the most sensible thing would be letting go and walking away before we can make this situation any worse.

Damon wraps his other hand around my throat, fingers digging in lightly, his thumb pressing against the edge of my jaw. He tilts my head to the side, exposing more of my throat to him. I resist the urge to lean my head back on his shoulder. Because I’m not mad.

My chest rapidly rises and falls as I struggle to breathe. It’s not really because of all the hits I’ve taken. I’m having more trouble dealing with Damon’s proximity than I am to what he’s done to me with his hands. A sign that maybe he was pulling some of his punches.

“You,” I say, barely getting the words out through all the tightness and the pain and the blood, “have got some serious control issues, North.” I shift against him, and he tightens his hold in response. I smile, oddly charmed by it.

“Might want—” Another few unsteady breaths. “—to see somebody about that.”

Damon feels like solid stone against my back, his body so tense I’m worried he might shatter if I tap the wrong spot too hard. As if in response to my thoughts, Damon’s arm around my waist changes from tight to crushing. His fingers press into my neck with clear intention. Not enough to choke. Just a reminder. Or a warning. A warning to be careful where I’m going with all of this.

My pale skin bruises easily. I can tell I’m going to have some on my throat. I don’t hate that idea like I should. And something about it being Damon who made them, whose fingers dug into my skin and left behind a mark, speaks to a primal part of my brain.

Damon’s mouth skates along my jaw, either by accident or on purpose, I’m not sure which. It doesn’t really matter. A short, bitten-off moan leaves my throat in a rush. I clamp my lips together to try to contain the rest of it. But it’s too late. Damon heard it. A shudder runs through him, a ripple of feeling and skin and warmth. An answering wave rolls through me, my body set to quaking.

I need to stop.

Damon bends his neck to speak directly into my ear. Our height and size difference aids him in making me feel completely taken over, enveloped, held in place, swallowed up and overwhelmed by my temporary loss of autonomy.

“Is this a game?” Damon asks, and he sounds, it beggars belief, genuinely upset by the idea.

About the Author

BL Jones is a twentysomething British author who spends all her free time reading and writing and taming her three little brothers. She lives in Bristol with a temperamental bunny named Pepsi. She’s been writing stories since she was five, rarely sharing them with anyone except her numerous stuffed animals. BL has had a difficult journey into discovering and accepting her own queerness, and therefore believes that positive, honest, and authentic stories about queer people are very important. She hopes to contribute her own stories for people to have fun with and enjoy.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Instagram

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Don’t Hold Back (Chasing Gold Book 2) by Colette Davison #kindleunlimited #giveaway

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Book Title: Don’t Hold Back (Chasing Gold Book 2)

Author and Publisher: Colette Davison

Cover Artist: Colette Davison

Release Date: July 26, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Rivals to lovers, grumpy and sunshine, slow burn, hurt/comfort

Themes: Winning isn’t everything, learning to love yourself

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length:  93,000 words

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 

Can rivals gain Olympic glory and love?

Blurb

Garret has spent years training in gymnastics, but the pressure has taken its toll. Despite qualifying for the Olympics, failing to medal at the World Championships is all he can think about.

Anger is taking control and strangling his ability to focus on training, when his main rival, Team USA gymnast, Ryder Anderson, arrives at the gym to train alongside him.

Garrett wants to hate Ryder, but he can’t ignore his rival’s sunshine personality and handsome looks. Discovering Ryder is fighting a battle against himself, Garrett’s anger turns to admiration and then love. 

Dating his rival isn’t against the rules, but that doesn’t make it a good idea. Can they make a relationship work despite the pressure of the Olympics, or will they crack under the strain?

Don’t Hold Back is an M/M sports romance with a grumpy gymnast who falls for his sunshiny rival. It has a slow-burn relationship and some hurt/comfort.

Trigger warnings: Don’t Hold Back features a character who has anorexia.

Excerpt

“Ryder.” Lennie waved him across. “Good work. I’ve got two options for you.”

Ryder raised his eyebrows as he waited. From the look on Lennie’s face, he wasn’t sure he’d like either of them.

“You could go to Boulder and train alongside David Marshall.”

David was a two-time Olympian.

“Isn’t he trained by Isaiah Hobbs these days?” Ryder asked, trying hard not to scowl.

“Yes.”

“That’s not really an option, then is it?”

“Hobbs said he’d have you.”

Ryder shook his head and half turned away. “I don’t particularly care.”

“I didn’t think you’d go for it. But Boulder’s closer to home than my next suggestion.”

“There’s not much farther away than that.”

“The other option is to come with me.”

“To England?”

Lennie nodded. “I’ve called in a favour at my old gym in Leeds. They’d be happy to have us. We could train around visiting hours. They’re pretty prescriptive. You’d get more training hours in if you went to Boulder.”

“I’d rather take the week off than train under Isaiah again.” He folded his arms and dipped his chin. “England, huh? I’ve always wanted to see Buckingham Palace.”

Lennie laughed. “Leeds and London aren’t exactly next door.”

“Oh.”

“Seriously, what do you think?”

Ryder drew in a breath. “Travelling’s always harder than being home, but I’d rather train with you in England than with Isaiah. But only if you’re sure.”

“I am. We can stay at my parents’ house. Dad won’t mind if you take over the kitchen. Or if you prefer, we can rent somewhere.”

“Sounds good.” It was easy to say, less easy to feel.

Ryder always felt anxious about travelling, especially when it meant staying somewhere else for any length of time. But travelling was unavoidable at his level of gymnastics, so he dealt with it.

“You’re sure?”

Ryder smiled and nodded. He wouldn’t train under Isaiah again. He couldn’t.

“You won’t be the only Olympian training at the gym we’ll be using,” Lennie said.

“Oh?”

“Two members of the British team train there. Reece Matthews and Garrett Kidd.”

“They’re great gymnasts.”

“Yes.”

Ryder laughed. “Garrett’s the handsome scowling one, right?”

Lennie gave him a stern look.

“What? He is handsome, and he was very scowly at Worlds when I went to congratulate him.”

“You beat him.”

“So?”

Lennie rolled his eyes. “He probably thought you were rubbing your win in his face.”

“Me? Nah. Why would I do that?”

Lennie raised an eyebrow.

“I barely beat him in the all-around final. It was by point four or something.”

“Point two.”

“Oh. Even closer than I thought.” Ryder shrugged. “Either one of us could have won on the day. I was just luckier. See? Now I’m looking forward to a trip to England.”

Lennie shook his head and sighed. “Let’s see your floor routine again.”

Ryder grinned. “On it.”

About the Author

Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook Page   |  Facebook Group: Colette’s Cosy Corner

BookBub   |   Twitter  |   Goodreads  |  Instagram: @colettedavison

Mailing List  |   Newsletter Sign-Up

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Sins of our Sons by Kristian Daniels #giveaway

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Book Title: Sins of our Sons

Author: Kristian Daniels

Publisher: Extasy Books

Release Date: May 28, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Forbidden love, murder, conversion therapy

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness, hate crime, love

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 94 000 words/ 333 pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Extasy Books

Contemporary MM Romance, murder, conversion therapy

Blurb 

Young lovers Greg and Tyler secretly meet to spend time together, until a moment of passion by the moonlight throws their lives into chaos. When their parents learn about their little escapade, it opens a Pandora’s box that spreads family discord, resentment, and heartaches. When someone adds fuel to an already fragile situation, things get out of hand quickly. Will these two young lovers stay safe? How much can they endure before they break?

Excerpt 

Nestled in southwest Alberta’s rolling foothills lies the quaint little town of Cardston—the Miller and Bradshaw families’ hometown. Cardston straddled the Lee Creek valley and served as a shopping and tourist hub for southwest Alberta, and was the unrivalled centre of Mormon life in Canada. Three-quarters of the town’s residents belonged to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, while the other quarter was Catholic and Baptist. The town’s social life revolved around family life, team sports and religion.

Greg Miller was the captain of the town football team, the Cardston Cougars, and the proud son of John and Teresa Miller. Greg’s parents owned the only shoe store in town, where Greg helped on weekends and summer holidays.

Greg and his teammates had been busy preparing for their next big game against the Calgary Golden Bears; it was the Cougars’ opportunity to bring back home the trophy they lost to the Bears three years ago. Unfortunately, John and Teresa couldn’t be there to cheer on their son—John had his business to run, and since Greg would be in Calgary, his mother would have to be at the store instead. Sales had been down, and closing for even one day could cause the family hardship in the coming months. Tyler had attended Greg’s practices ever since they met. You could tell in Tyler’s eyes how proud he was of his boyfriend―his secret boyfriend. Unfortunately, Greg and Tyler needed to be discreet and hide when they wanted to meet, a drawback of living in a small religious town.

It was Greg’s last year of high school, and if his team won the game, it could mean a scholarship for him at the University of Alberta and a golden chance to play for the Golden Bears. Over dinner, Greg asked his parents once more if they were sure they couldn’t make the game.

His father looked at him and said, “Sorry, Greg. I wish we could go, but we can’t close the business. You know how important November is to us.”

“Can’t you ask Steve to cover for you?”

“No. Steve has decided to move on, and even if he was still with us, I don’t have the money to pay for him to replace me. I’m sorry, son, you’ll have to do this one on your own.”

“You don’t need us there,” his mother said. “You’ll do just fine.”

“I know. It would have been nice to have you guys there, that’s all. But I understand,” Greg said.

“Besides,” his mother said, “if we went, we’d need a hotel room and Calgary’s expensive.”

Greg nodded and lowered his head. He quietly finished his meal, took his empty plate to the dishwasher, and went to his room. He turned on his computer and browsed the internet for anything and nothing, then went and laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Bummer. I’ll probably be the only guy whose parents won’t be there.

He texted Tyler about meeting up. Thirty minutes later, Greg stopped by the living room and told his parents he was going out. He hopped on his bike and met his boyfriend, Tyler, at Lee Creek Park.

Unlike Greg, who was a Catholic, Tyler was Baptist. Tyler thought being Baptist was very similar to other denominations, but their parents thought differently. A typical week for Tyler was packed with religion, beginning with a seminar at six in the morning, youth group on Wednesdays, and bible school on Sunday. In high school, Tyler was referred to as the boy who didn’t drink, smoke, or hook up with girls. There was nothing he’d like more than to be like the other guys his age, but his religion forbade it, as did his parents.

Tyler was already at the park when Greg arrived, sitting near the creek, leaning against a tree and lost in his thoughts. Greg quietly approached him from behind the tree and grabbed one of his arms.

“What the…” Tyler jerked his arm away, and Greg burst out laughing.

“You scared me,” Tyler said.

“How’s it going, dude?”

“Okay. And you? Ready for the big game?”

“I think so, but it’s a bummer my folks can’t come.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Yeah, but what can you do?” Greg said with a shrug.

“Would you like me to be there? I can be your cheering section in the audience,” Tyler said with a smile.

“You would do that?”

“Of course.”

“That would be so cool. We could rent a room for after the game.”

“Won’t you have one already?”

“Yeah, but we’re four of us in there, and I don’t think the coach would let you crash. Besides,” Greg said, leaning forward towards Tyler, “we wouldn’t be able to do this.” The two of them kissed.

“You have a point there,” Tyler said. “I’ll ask my parents to reserve a room for me. You need to keep your cash for university.”

“Will they let you go?” Greg asked, excited at the prospect of being with his boyfriend alone where no one knew them.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll be there to support you,” Tyler said with confidence.

“I can’t wait for us to be at university so we can be together. I’m tired of hiding,” Greg said, looking at Tyler.

“Me too. You’ll have to wait, though, because you’re a school year ahead of me.” Tyler grinned.

“Right.” Greg made a sad face. “But you can join me the year after,” he said with a smile.

“Think of what would happen if our parents found out about us,” Tyler said, lost in his thoughts.

“That’s a scary thought. Come here.” Greg placed his hands on Tyler’s shoulder and lowered him on his lap.

Tyler rested his head on Greg’s lap, and Greg bent over and placed his lips on Tyler’s.

About the Author 

Kristian Daniels is a published author. His first novel Stolen Heart was published a little more than one year ago. An Information Technologist by profession, he retired a few years ago to dedicate his time to his storytelling. Kristian is passionate about writing. Fiction and coming–of-age stories are what he likes to write about.  Kristian lives and works out of his home in Canada and spends his summers traveling and enjoying a drink a good book and the sun by his pool.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook   |  Twitter   |  Instagram

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Sucker For Love Mystery #6: Our Shellfish Desires by K.L. Hiers #kindleunlimited #giveaway

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Book Title: Sucker For Love Mystery #6: Our Shellfish Desires

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Tiferet Design

Release Date: July 19, 2022

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Tropes: MMM, First Time, First Time Threeway, First Time Throuple, Grumpy One Loves the Sunshine Ones

Themes: Learning to trust, Healing from trauma, Overcoming addiction 

Heat Rating: 5 flames     

Length: 65 000 words    

It is a standalone story, BUT the author would highly recommend reading the rest of the series.

The book does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

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You don’t need a body to have a heart.

Blurb 

People talk about the marriage of true minds, but Alexander doesn’t think this is what they meant.

After a cruel experiment binds him to the soul of Rota, an old god, Alexander has one mission: find Rota’s body. Having a godly boyfriend is great, but it would be better to have one that he could actually touch. Unfortunately, even Alexander’s ability to command Rota’s divine power hasn’t helped.

A rare book of poetry may finally provide the answer. The expertise they need translating it brings them to Oleander Logue, a young man with plenty of problems that seem at odds with his cheerful nature. Ollie is happy to help, but he’s in trouble with a gangster who demands that Alexander and Rota solve a series of murders first.

Desperate, Alexander and Rota accept the case… but it’s not that simple. The gangster’s threats to Ollie’s safety disturb them both, but is that because they’re both growing more attracted to Ollie… or because he’s a potential host for Rota? If they can’t solve these murders, they may never find out.

Excerpt 

“Thank you!” Ollie gushed. “That was so cool! You totally just kicked Nathaniel’s ass!”

Alexander swallowed a squeak and forgot how to work all of his muscles. Ollie was so warm, and he smelled like alcohol, cigarettes, and patchouli oil with a hint of vanilla.

“Seriously, that was amazing!” Ollie turned Alexander so he could beam down at him, still hugging him close. “I mean, okay, it’s kinda your fault he got in here, but thank you.” He smiled wider. “Whoa. Your eyeballs are turning all pink.”

Alexander was torn between pushing Ollie away and melting into his arms. The simple affection was making his knees weak, having for so long only experienced physical touch that was designed to hurt. His brain refused to cooperate, and all he could do was stutter, “Y-yeah, they do that.”

Who was that man, Ollie? Rota asked.

Alexander slipped away from Ollie, mourning the loss of contact the second he did. He scrambled to get another cigarette. “Yeah, and what was he? I’ve never seen magic like that before.”

“His name is Nathaniel Ware.” Ollie fidgeted and dipped back into the kitchen, still talking. “He is so not fuckin’ human. He’s, like, a troll dude with tusks and a long tail.”

An Absola? Rota sounded intrigued. Here on Aeon?

The gods had created many monstrous creatures before mortals, including a troll-like race of beings called the Absola. They, along with the other so-called everlasting people, were said to have gone with the gods into the dreaming, and neither Alexander nor Rota had heard of any living in this world for thousands of years.

“Yeah, but not, like, all the way?” Ollie mused. “He’s like a diet Absola.”

“But the Absola don’t control time or space,” Alexander pointed out. “The Faedra do.”

“Whatever! Look, he’s a freaky monster guy, and he works for Sullivan Stoker. Do you know who that is?”

“No.” Alexander grabbed the book to put back in his pocket and followed Ollie. Unsurprisingly, the kitchen was as much of a disaster as the rest of the apartment.

Ollie was pouring red wine into two glasses as he explained, “He’s a crime boss. Like, this big drug lord. And okay, so I may have had a tiny drug problem before. When I first got the eyeballs of Yeris, I had trouble dealing with it.” He thrust a glass at Alexander.

“No thanks.”

Ollie poured it into his glass and sipped off the excess. “I made okay money translating, but it wasn’t enough to keep up with my habit, so I started taking product on credit. Like, so much. And I kinda owe him a lot of money, and he’s very unhappy with me. I’ve been trying to make payments, and he’s been chill ’cause my uncle is a cop, but—”

“He’s tired of waiting and he’s sending goons after you?” Alexander finished.

“Yeah. Damn. You should be a detective.”

“How about this?” Alexander crossed his arms. “I’ll keep the criminal scum from hounding you in exchange for you translating the book?”

“I, I guess that could work.” Ollie frowned. “Will you…. Will you stay here? I need some time to figure out how to deal with Stoker, and, and I’ll find a way to make the translating work, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll put new wards up, and if anyone is stupid enough to come back, I’ll—”

“Where are you gonna sleep?”

“What?”

Ollie scratched his head. “My bed is kinda small, but I guess we could share—”

“Your couch is fine.” Alexander blushed miserably. He could not handle the mere thought of being anywhere near a bed with Ollie right now. He had to be going insane. That’s all it was. “Once it’s cleaned up, of course.”

You should take better care of your home, Ollie. It’s quite a mess.

“I know.” Ollie sighed. “It’s so damn bad. I just never have the energy, and I’ve been really depressed. Like, forever depressed. I died a little, my ex is getting married… it’s been a whole thing.”

Alexander had the inexplicable desire to reach out for Ollie. It was obvious he was upset, and Alexander wanted to feel his arms around him again. He stayed where he was, taking a step back for good measure, as if the distance would quell the urge.

So, you’re single?

“Rota!” Alexander barked, angrily chanting inside his head, Shut up, shut up, shut up!

“Yeah. Duh.” Ollie snorted and slurped more of his wine. He swayed and leaned against the counter, eyeing where Rota was hovering behind Alexander. He grinned. “Okay, wait. Are you hitting on me?”

I believe we are, yes. We’re not very good at it, but we’re making an effort.

“No, we’re not!” Alexander gritted his teeth. “Hey! You look good and drunk. Book. Now.”

Say please.

“Please,” Alexander hissed.

“Okay, okay, sure thing.” Ollie was still grinning. “You know, if you were hitting on me, I would have to tell you—”

A portal opened up and a hand slid through, snatching Ollie so fast that he dropped his wine. The glass hit the ground, shattering as the portal closed.

Just like that, Ollie was gone.

About the Author 

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, they worked in the death industry for nearly a decade. Their first love was always telling stories, and they have been writing for over twenty years, penning their very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but they never gave up.

Following the success of their first novel, Cold Hard Cash, they now enjoy writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. They love attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of their favorite characters. They live in Zebulon, NC, with their husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |  Instagram  

Twitter  |  Newsletter Sign-up  |  Patreon 

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Force Majeure by Sophia Soames

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Book Title: Force Majeure

Author and Publisher: Sophia Soames

Cover Model: Rourke

Release Date: July 15, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope: Childhood friends to Lovers

Themes: Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, Set in Berlin

Heat Rating: 4 flames   

Length: 32 000 words

It is a standalone story.

Goodreads 

Buy Links

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Love is an earthquake that relocates the centre of the universe.

Blurb

Oakley Hoffman is a walking, talking natural disaster. Not only does he seem to be the only functioning adult in his family, but he also stomps around creating irrational earthquakes with every badly thought-out ridiculous move he makes. He barely survived lockdown, and with life returning to something that vaguely resembles normal, Oakley has landed himself an inconvenient infatuation with his former best friend. Well, if he’s totally honest, he’s probably nursed that crush for years. Yet, this time around, infatuation has brought a bad streak of jealousy to boot.

Force Majeure is a 32K novella featuring childhood friends to lovers in adulthood, with explicit content intended for mature readers. No trigger warnings.

Force Majeure refers to a clause that is included in contracts to remove liability for natural and unavoidable catastrophes that interrupt the expected course of events.

Excerpt 

The clinking of the lock to the Demircis’ apartment kicks me out of my daydreams, and my heart jolts as I jump to my feet, almost tripping myself up in an effort to not look like I’m loitering.

“I could hear you a mile off,” Cem says, shuffling out into the hall, shivering despite the duvet draped around his shoulders like a royal cape. “You need to go to work and stop trying to scratch my head through the walls.”

He sits on the step. Too weak to fight the pull of his presence, I plonk down beside him, probably bruising my arse in the process, because I know I’ll get what I’ve been craving. Cem has always needed contact, and here I am, being squashed against the wall as he leans his body against mine and his head falls heavily on my shoulder.

“I’m a dick,” he says, bang on with the self-reflection.

“Yeah,” I want to shout at him, scream in his goddamn face, shake him until he gets his head in gear and sees how he has shattered my world. But I don’t. I can be a calm, reasonable person, and I have far too much self-control to fall apart in front of Cemil Demirci.

“I got carried away at the weekend,” he continues. “There was a party, and then I stayed over with friends, and time just kind of evaporated, you know?” Excuses. Always excuses.

“You have an exam today,” I say. If I sound angry, it’s because I can’t help myself.

“It’s under control.” He sighs deeply and turns his head so his nose is pressed into my shoulder. That’s something else he does to reel me in. Why do I let him so cheaply buy my forgiveness? “I studied all week, so I’m good. It’s all in here.” His hand pokes out of the duvet to point at his head. “I’m not worried about the exams.”

I’m not worried either. Cem is too clever for his own good. He’ll read a book and memorise every line, quoting it back at me in long, rambling sentences I barely understand. Nor have I ever seen him use a calculator. He scribbles down numbers at frightening speed on whatever surface he can find and then does the calculation in his head.

Cem knows stuff. Far too much stuff.

“I miss you,” I whisper without meaning to. Even shielded by all the jealousy and anger I feel, knowing I’m slowly, irrevocably losing him again, it’s the truth. He is the calm to my inner storm, and I will forgive him for anything and everything. And I hate myself for it.

About the Author 

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Find me on social media @sophiasoames on all platforms

Christina Stern is a Russian based artist. Quick sketches and portraits drawn in pencil are what she likes to do the most. Her work can be found on @christinastern on Instagram

Aurelia Morris is a cover artist, photographer, Photoshop wiz and eternal fangirl. She works in many mediums under more aliases that she can keep track of.

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