New Release – Cursed (A Balance of Magic #2) by Jackie Keswick #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Cursed (A Balance of Magic #2)

Author: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Jackie Keswick

Release Date: March 23, 2022

Genre: M/M Fantasy

Tropes: Friends to lovers, love vs. duty, soul mates, found family, worlds in peril, two against the world, hurt/comfort

Series Themes: the world is fragile, short-term decisions have long-term consequences, gifts are given for a reason

Heat Rating: 3 flames   

Length:  77 000 words

It is the second book in a trilogy.

The book does not end on a cliffhanger. Raijin and Sandro’s story ends on a HFN. The main story arc continues across all three books.

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Two friends. Two worlds. A selfish desire that threatens them both.

Blurb

Two friends. Two worlds. A selfish desire that threatens them both.

Raijin killed a witch and found himself cursed.

Sandro went to Raijin’s aid and became an assassin’s target.

Neither expected that they would trigger the biggest upheaval their world had seen in a thousand years.

And that it needed the love between them to lift the curse.

Cursed, the second book in the Balance of Magic series, is a slow-burn m/m fantasy romance featuring friends-to-lovers who become soulmates, irate death gods, curses, inept, narcissistic politicians, curious, compassionate witches, and a found family.

Excerpt 

France, Summer 1920

“Poplars and plane trees, beeches and birches, or a mountainside of firs.” Sandro stared into the bottom of his wine glass and tried to keep the misery at bay. “Is it really too much to wish for a few olive and lemon trees? I’ve not been near my grove in six years. Six years, Raijin!”

“I know.”

“What if they’ve dug it up?”

“Why would they?”

Sandro set the glass down. “To spite us,” he said.

Raijin stared at him.

“I know, I know. It’s not like me to think badly of people.” He waved a hand. “But what other interpretation is there for the way Tan Hao treats us? Every time we finish a task, he finds another one that keeps us from the base. Do you really think he does that to everyone?”

Raijin wisely kept his mouth shut.

Sandro was grateful. He’d never been a maudlin drunk, but the last six years had changed many things. Being prevented from visiting the only home he’d ever known… hurt. Even if he’d barely spent a day alone while the human world tore itself to pieces.

Maybe he shouldn’t complain. Especially not to Raijin. He hadn’t been home for far longer, but… He lifted a hand to summon the waiter and order another bottle of wine, when Raijin stopped him.

“Come along. I have an idea.”

“What kind?”

“The good kind.” Raijin smiled the soft, lopsided smile that Sandro had no defences against.

“Tell me.”

“In a moment.”

They paid for their meal and left the restaurant, wandering up the street towards their lodgings. They had their own courtyard garden, had food, and even wine, but Sandro had been too restless to stay home, and Raijin had indulged him.

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” He tried to express his gratitude.

“Doing what?”

“Indulging me. I’m… Ignore me.”

“Never.” Raijin unlocked the gate and ushered them into the place they’d made their base since the Armistice. It was clean, comfortable, and private. But it wasn’t home.

Sandro had no idea what Raijin meant to do, but he didn’t have to wonder long. As soon as he’d locked the gate behind them, Raijin took hold of his arm, opened the veil and tugged Sandro through.

Two steps later, scents of brine and citrus hit his nose. Soft, springy turf caressed his feet, and one look at the familiar trees had him fight back tears.

Raijin had brought them to the top of the Custodia base. Had given Sandro what he’d most needed: a visit to his grove of lemon trees.

If he could have touched all his trees at once, he’d have done so. Since he lacked that ability, he wrapped his arms around the nearest tree, and hummed.

The trees responded, impressions wrapping him up like a cloak: comings and goings, hot sun and sparkling raindrops, a storm from the east. Sandro soaked it all up like a starving man and shared his own experiences in turn.

After the first sharing was done, Sandro went from tree to tree, touching, checking, renewing his connection. When he joined Raijin at the centre of the grove and accepted the glass of wine Raijin had poured him, he hummed with green energy, his watcher sight as sensitive as it had never been before.

“I wish I could explain—” he began hesitantly.

Only for Raijin to wave it away. “It’s fine. You wanted to check on your family. I understand.”

Raijin wasn’t demonstrative.

But when he chose to make a point, he took Sandro’s breath away.

About the Author 

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops.

For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in all the usual places

Blog/Website  |  Facebook group  |  Facebook page  |  Twitter 

Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up  |  TikTok  |  Patreon 

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Meduso: A Greek Mythology Gay Retelling #kindleunlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Meduso: A Greek Mythology Gay Retelling 

Author: B.J. Irons

Publisher/Cover Artist: Spectrum Books

Release Date: February 19, 2022

Genre: Fantasy M/M Romance – Greek Mythology

Tropes: Forbidden love

Themes: Coming of Age, Innocence, Betrayal, Tragedy

Heat Rating: 3 flames    

Length: 75 000 words/270 pages

It is book 1 of 9 in the Mythologay Series

Warning: The book has a sad ending.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Greek Mythology with a Gay Twist

Blurb

Venomous snakes for hair.

A glare that will cast people to stone.

Beheaded by the tragic Greek hero, Perseus.

It’s a safe assumption that we all know the basic facts about one of Greek Mythology’s most famous monsters, Medusa; the beautiful maiden cursed and turned into a Gorgon. Her tragic story and death at the hands of the hero, Perseus, has been told countless times for thousands of years.

But the thing with Greek Mythology is just that. They are myths. Narrated, fictional legends as old as time that have been passed down from generation to generation. Time has a way of changing the original tale. So, how can we be sure that the myths we think we know are the real story?

What if important aspects of these myths have been altered? What if the monster wasn’t really a monster at all? What if Medusa wasn’t actually Medusa? What if her name was Meduso? And what if she wasn’t a her, but a him? This is the tale of Meduso and his death at the hands of the hero Perseus’ sword. It is a tale of innocence, love, betrayal, and tragedy. 

Excerpt 

Stheno and I continued to descend the mountain until we passed the precipice. The slope flattened, leading to a narrow trail. We followed this trail until we were able to see a bare hole right in the middle of the mountain. Stheno led the way inside, grabbing a lit torch at the entrance, carrying it with her as we explored deeper into the cave. 

It felt like a never-ending tunnel. We continued to walk for several minutes until we finally reached a very large and circular room within the cave. The torch was no longer of use to us since there was a massive oculus overhead, allowing light to enter. 

A figure came forth, stepping into the light. My mouth gaped open. For being Typhon’s wife, I was expecting to see a monstrous female creature. A repulsive, murky beast with fangs and talons, smelling of putrid, rotting flesh. But this was not what stood before me. She had similar features to my mother. The lower half of her body was composed of forest green scales, coiling into a snake’s tail. Her upper body was that of a human, but not just any human. An alluring one. Pleasant to the naked eye. Fair-skinned with shiny hair, the color of emeralds. 

“Come forward, brother and sister,” the figure commanded.

Stheno and I approached her, now allowing me to get a closer glimpse of her jade eyes that matched the jeweled tiara on her head.

She slithered just inches away from us. Her palm rubbed along my cheek, with her fingertips tracing my chin. She studied me carefully. 

“My. Oh my! And to think Ceto and Phorcys had the capability to produce such a lovely creation,” she said to me. Her fingers now spun in a circular motion to feel my hair. “And these beautiful golden locks. You will tempt all of the mortals with this face. Dare I say the goddesses and even the gods too?” Echidna winked at me before stepping back to give us separation.

“Meduso has yet to be introduced to the mortals, Echidna. He will begin to socialize with them soon,” Stheno proclaimed. 

“Ahhh. Is that so? His gorgeous features and now the added layer of innocence and naivety will do wonders in the mortal world,” Echidna declared.

My face began to turn as red as the rose of Aphrodite. I did not know whether to be appreciative or stunned by her flattery. I’ve never had anyone pay me such compliments in my entire life.

“Tell me, my dear, what is it you desire?” Echidna asked.

“Desire?” I questioned.

“Yes. What is it you seek from this world? Power, riches, a gorgeous woman… or maybe a handsome man?” 

Stheno cut her off. “That will be enough, Echidna. There is no need to tarnish the boy’s mind.”

I was unsure of what Echidna meant by desiring a handsome man. I’ve never even set sight on a mortal to know what aspects of them I was captivated by. Most of the stories I’ve been told involved a male being in  love with a female. However, Euryale did share some rumors she had heard about certain Olympian gods taking some of their male servants as lovers. But I did not know where my attractions lied, based on my lack of experience.

“Oh, don’t be so dull, Stheno!” Echidna exclaimed. “At least give the boy some direction! He’ll wind up as dull and stupid as Koalemos if you keep him secluded any longer.”

Stheno shook her head. “I think you of all people are the last immortal that should be giving me advice. Look at the direction you chose for yourself. And know where it put you!”

“Hmph. I’ll never understand you and our parents. Choosing to stay isolated in the oceans while the rest of the world around you is drastically changing.” Echidna continued to express her disdain for the traditions and beliefs of our family.

As my sisters continued to banter back and forth, I stood still, just staring ahead at them. Their silhouettes became blurry and then non-existent in my line of vision. Was I having an out-of-body experience? Instead, a new sight was before me. Some sort of rope. No, it was a net with a gigantic fish caught in it, in the water, except the water was fairly shallow. I could see its translucence and the glimmer of light shining through it. I swam toward the caught fish, trying to free it with my bare hands. The fish was able to escape, but as I tugged away, I realized I was snagged within the confines of the net. I tried my best to yank away, but to no avail. As I glanced upward, I realized I was being pulled towards the surface, until… 

Stheno called out to me, bringing me back to reality. “Meduso! Are you okay!?”

I just glanced at her blankly. “Yes. I’m fine. Why? What is wrong?”

“Your eyes…” Stheno began, with a worried expression on her face. “They turned pure silver, for a moment,” she revealed.

“What? Are you sure?” I was extremely bewildered, not even sure if I believed what she had just shared.

“A vision.” Echidna slid close to me and raised my chin up with her hand, glaring into my eyes. “Did you have a vision, Meduso?”

“A vision? I mean, I saw a fish being caught in a net just now. I’m not sure where. I’ve never experienced anything like this. What is happening?” I felt shook up.

“It’s nothing to worry about, dear brother. You just had a vision. Call it a gift, if you will. A sight into the future or a major phenomenon happening elsewhere in the world. Such things gods usually experience. I’m surprised you, as a mortal, are able to have them,” Echidna confessed.

“This truly is your first time experiencing this, Meduso?” Stheno asked.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Hmm. I wonder what it could mean. A fish in a net?” Stheno was puzzled.

“View it as a mark of destiny, Meduso.” Echidna advised. “Whatever you do, never run from these visions you have. The Fates are reaching out to you, for a reason. They want you to see this. They want you to be brave and follow through with these visions.”

“Do you really think so?” I turned to Stheno to see if she had the same opinion.

“I think you should inform our mother and father about this first,” Stheno recommended. 

“Oh. Don’t listen to her, Meduso! They’ve held you back long enough from whatever your destiny may be. Press onward, dear brother. If I were you, I would leave the oceans the second you get the chance to, and never look back,” Echidna advised.

“Yes. Echidna did the same, Meduso, and look where she ended up. Locked away, alone in a barren cave in the mountains!” Stheno wittily remarked.

Echidna’s eyes flared at Stheno as she made this comment. Her once pale skin shifted to a dark green color to match her scales. She was now angered. “I’d watch your tongue, Stheno! Although I am your sister, I am not to be made a fool of! Do not trifle with me!” Echidna threatened.

Stheno stood her ground. “And what are you going to do? Make any tumultuous action and the gods and goddesses will know of your location. An empty threat, if I’ve ever heard one.”

“How dare you! Get out, now!” Echidna vilely screeched.

Stheno grabbed the torch and turned back to face me. “Come, Meduso. We leave!”

I just stood there, equidistant between both of my sisters. Echidna glided to me, caressing my cheek one last time before our departure. “You are more beautiful than I had ever imagined, brother. It will serve you well in their world. Never put that beauty to waste.” Those were her parting words as Echidna swiftly skidded out of sight in the blink of an eye, deeper into the dwelling of her cave.

I followed behind Stheno as we left, ascending the mountain once again.

“That Echidna! Curse her!” Stheno grumbled.

“I don’t think she was so bad, Stheno. Much more pleasant than I had imagined.”

“Meduso, that was only one side of Echidna that you saw. Remember, she is the wife of the most cruel and vicious monster known to existence. Do not forget. It takes a certain someone to be able to commit to that,” she explained.

Once we reached the summit, Stheno held out her hands to me for me to take. I clasped onto them and we closed our eyes, summoning our mother for our return. Within a flash, I opened my eyes, and I was once again standing on the ledge of the cliff in our grotto.

“How does Echidna fare?” my mother, Ceto, asked.

Stheno shook her head and dismissed herself. “Troublesome as ever! We have much to talk about, mother!” She headed back into the palace, with my mother following in pursuit.

I chose not to join them, knowing Stheno would have private affairs to discuss with my mother and father. I sat on the edge of the bluff, gleaming into the crystal blue water, reflecting on the vision I had.   

A net with a fish? What could it mean? 

I found myself coming up with little to no answers or guesses.

I was then reminded of Echidna’s counsel and the last words she spoke to me.

Never put that beauty to waste.

Little did I know that I would carry this guidance with me for years to come. Never did I picture that it would end up shaping my future.

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.

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Little Red by Shelby Rhodes #kindleunlimited

BOOK BLAST

Book Title:  Little Red (Fairy Tales Retold Book 1)

Author: Shelby Rhodes

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Jahla D. Brown

Release Date:  January 30, 2022

Genres:  Fantasy, Fairy tale, M/M Romance

Themes: Good vs. evil

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:  72 415 pages

It is the first book in the series. The main story is resolved.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

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Blurb

Follow along and you will see a tale retold in a world of unimaginable creatures, gods, and goddesses. A world filled to the brim with magic. Our story begins with a sorcerer with too much power without the age to match.

Ryder, our hero, who just so happens to be a painfully short redhead, has found himself burdened with the fates of thousands, in a life where he has so far received very few answers. In order to find the cure to the plague that has overtaken the Kingdom of Solais, he sets off on a quest to seek out his slightly crazy grandmother, in the Yore Forest.

Add in one flirty, handsome werewolf Prince, a sarcastic sorcerer-hating werewolf, some full-blown insanity, and a bit of magic, and Ryder finds his momentous task doubling in difficulty and stress. But all is not what it seems, and sometimes life takes you to places you never wished to stand. In the end, Ryder’s decisions and paths are not choices but destiny. And in said destiny lies insurmountable magic, death, and maybe even love.

Excerpt

       Bane sprinted into the forest, running faster than Ryder could ever hope to. The thudding of the man’s bare feet on the dirt path almost lured Ryder to sleep.

      It would have been to their detriment. The danger was not over. Escaping his grandmother would take more than physical strength and a little magic. She would not give up that easily.

      Ryder had barely had that thought when he felt it—magic. The air became electric as it surged closer. He could taste it. Ryder could feel it permeating his very bones. But something was wrong. Instead of fear or apprehension, his very soul felt elated.

      Ryder felt energy build inside him. Strength he shouldn’t have had, it called for his magic to rise. And as the unknown force sped towards them, his heart started to race in anticipation.

      At first, there was only a thundering rumble. Then the ground began to shake, and a roaring symphony of cracking, snapping, and explosions followed—sounds of pure destruction. Screeching beasts could be heard in the distance, the creatures dying as they are unable to get out of the way of his grandmother’s spell. And soon, the already dim sky darkened further.

      He watched Bane quickly glance back. When the werewolf swore and started a brutal pace, he knew they were probably screwed.

      Even knowing that, Ryder couldn’t stop his eyes from widening in horror when he finally caught sight of what was after them. It was not something anyone could outrun. Headed their way was a tsunami-size wave of dirt, rocks, and trees. He could see nothing beyond it. Not only was it coming from behind, but from all sides, leaving only an increasingly narrow path in front of them.

      And as the two waves began to swell over them, stealing away their path, Ryder’s first thought was that they were going to die. But then the defiant part of him, that always pushed him to defeat the odds, screamed no—no, he would not die this way! Ryder refused!

      He let his magic consume the mysterious energy—he let it free. Instead of recoiling from the all-consuming spell coming for them, his magic flew towards it. As their magic collided, a spell he had never learned filled his mind. The language was old, foreign to him, but he somehow understood.

      When the world turned to darkness, the wave mere seconds from crushing them, time slowed for Ryder.

      His body hummed, and the spell he shouldn’t have known past his lips. “Îgňaęϋe těŕrvʼna ɋȏnǹ ȸrǽ relǽg’uɱ Ťę môrʋǐtȕs!”

      He began to emit a red glow. That glow became brighter and brighter, until it was blinding.

      Ryder blinked as time returned to normal. The wall of dirt, all of it was gone. The only evidence of it having been there was the barren land all around them.

       “That was…insane,” Bane rasped, voice shaking. The man had a death grip on him, and the werewolf’s voice wasn’t the only thing shaking.

      In a slight daze, Ryder peered up at the man. Fearful brown eyes met his. It was the look one cast at a monster. Ryder quickly glanced away.

      Clearing his throat, Bane announced, “We should get going.”

      Going where, Ryder thought weakly. He found he was too tired to ask. The energy and magic that had saved them had dissipated, the spell that had been so clear moments before was lost to him.

      Bane started off again after a moment of hesitation, carrying him into the barren wasteland the spell had created. Listening to the werewolf’s speeding heartbeat, Ryder let his exhaustion take him.

      While he did not know where they were going, or what was going to happen, the one thing he did know was that this was far from over.

About the Author 

Books have always been a big part of Shelby Rhodes’ life. Unfortunately, growing up writing had been a constant struggle for her. So, even with her head filled with stories she never tried to write them down.

It took many years to gain the confidence to explore writing as a creative outlet. Now writing has become a way for her to dive into new adventures and explore new worlds.

With confidence, she fully intends to explore everything that has been stuck in her head. It is her hope that others will join her on her adventures.

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New Release – Heart of Stone (Juxtan 6) by Tricia Owens #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title:  Heart of Stone (Juxtan 6)

Author: Tricia Owens

Cover Artist: Tricia Owens

Release Date: February 4, 2022

Genre: Fantasy M/M Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers

Themes: Redemption

Heat Rating: 5 flames   

Length: 60 000 words/285 pages

It is book 6 in the Juxtan series.

The story does not  end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads – Juxtan series

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

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Love can move mountains

Blurb 

Hadrian and his friends may have survived the encounter with Theon, but they paid a heavy price in the end. They need time to heal, both physically and emotionally. Unexpectedly, while recuperating in a small mountain town, they encounter the most powerful man in the land, who offers them protection and much-needed medical aid. The timing is fortuitous, but what secrets does this mountain palace hold? Is it truly a refuge, or is it soon to become their stone prison?

Excerpt 

“My tongue wants to be inside your arse,” Caled whispered hotly.

“What?!” Hadrian looked around, panicked. “Stop it. Don’t say another word.” He pushed blindly through the street, trying to put the mercenary behind him but Caled hounded him like a shadow.

Fingers brushed the hair off the back of his neck and were quickly replaced by soft, warm lips. Hadrian moaned and struggled to keep walking, ignoring the few curious looks they garnered.

“You’re causing a—scene,” he warned, squirming beneath Caled’s kisses.

A hand caught his shoulder and spun him around. Hadrian stumbled, but only fell back against the wall of a nearby building. Caled immediately loomed over him, both hands planted on either side of Hadrian’s head.

“I want you.” The mercenary’s blue eyes were the color of the edge of night. He wedged his thigh between Hadrian’s and pushed it against his crotch. “I want you in every manner I can have you.”

Hadrian clutched the other man’s shoulders, wanting to push him away in shock, but unable to loosen his fingers. Caled’s passion was infectious.

But at the back of Hadrian’s mind a voice questioned the mercenary’s overwhelming ardor. Why would it spring up now, in the middle of the afternoon on a crowded street?

“Where did you go this morning?” he asked.

Caled paused only for a moment before resuming his slow rub between Hadrian’s legs. “Doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now except getting us naked.”

Hadrian straightened his arms, moving Caled back. “Please don’t lie to me. I need to trust you.”

Pain flitted across Caled’s features before he looked away. “I was looking for something.”

“What?”

A muscle rippled in Caled’s jaw. “A gift. For you.”

“For me? But why—” Hadrian caught himself.

Until now he’d not wanted to acknowledge the change he’d sensed in Caled. It was a softening. No, it was a soft spot within the mercenary that the man was evidently terrified of recognizing within himself. Hadrian could trace its formation—the night they believed Gam and Lio had been killed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Hadrian told him. He cupped a cheek that sparkled with golden stubble. “Not ever.”

Caled shifted his weight from foot to foot, unusually restless. “I didn’t think you were.”

“I don’t require a gift to stay by your side.”

He frowned. “That’s not why I wanted to give you one.”

Hadrian leaned up and lightly touched his lips to the older man’s. “I know that you love me, Caledon ni Agthon.”

The mercenary closed his eyes and held Hadrian’s gloved hand to his cheek. “No. Don’t use that name,” he whispered. “Not until it’s over. I can’t be that man until then.”

Hadrian kissed him again. “You will always be the man I fell in love with, then and now. Deep down, you haven’t changed at all. That’s why I’ll never leave you.”

“You can’t leave me, Hades.”

The soft entreaty stabbed Hadrian through the heart. “I’d be a fool to do so. Are you calling me a fool?”

A smile curved Caled’s lips before he opened his eyes again. “Not a fool. Perfect. Sweet and delicious.” He took the initiative to brush his lips over Hadrian’s. “Which is why I must taste you this instant.”

About the Author 

Tricia Owens has been writing m/m fiction since 2000, after stumbling onto the term ‘slash’ and thinking it referred to horror stories. She is the author of the Sin City, A Pirate’s Life for Me, and Juxtapose City series, among several others. She lives in Las Vegas.

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Audiobook – Tristan by S. Legend

AUDIOBOOK OUT NOW

Book Title: Tristan

Author: S. Legend

Publisher: S Legend Fiction

Narrator: Curtis Michael

Release Date: November 24, 2021

Genre:  Arranged Marriage M/M Romance, fantasy

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, age gap

Themes: Self-discovery, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames     

Length: 9 hours    

It is not a standalone story. Tristan is book one of the Tristan Trilogy. The story ends on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

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Also available in Kindle Unlimited, Hardback and Paperback

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An alliance forged through marriage.  The cost?  One Man’s dream.

Blurb 

An alliance forged through marriage.  The cost?  One Man’s dream.

Tristan dreams of the day he’ll succeed his father as the next Warlord of Markaytia.  Elves—creatures famous for their darker passions and tantalizing culture—approach the Markaytian king with an offer he can’t refuse: an alliance with the Elves for the one Tristan Kanes. 

Tristan is forced to give up his dream. 

He’s not thrilled, but Tristan is a man of duty above all else.  What choice does he have?  He cannot refuse the king or Markaytia. He begrudgingly comes to terms with the arranged marriage. Is he a tad sour about it?  Yes, but he’ll get over it.  

Probably.

Maybe it won’t be so bad.  Elves have cool weapons, maybe he’ll get one? 

Corrik bans him from cool weapons.

Corrik’s seen Tristan’s gruesome death on the point of a sword in a prophetic vision.  He bans Tristan from picking up a sword ever again.  Tristan wants to accept the marriage with grace to make his people proud, but he resents Corrik for his remorseless attitude over his life’s work.

Facing the Ice Prince and himself.

Tristan’s conflict follows him on the journey to the mysterious Elven land of Mortouge.  He hates Corrik for taking him from the life he loved, boy does he, but his new Elven husband is an enigma and he’s captivated.  He sets Tristan’s blood on fire and freezes it at the same time.  Corrik unravels Tristan’s true nature and despite his best efforts, Tristan falls for his ice prince. 

But Corrik won’t bend.

Corrik wants to be obeyed.  He’s demanding and possessive.  He’s overbearingly protective. 

Can these two find a suitable compromise?  Or will Tristan’s resentment and Corrik’s arrogance ruin forever their chance at love?

Tristan by Mock (S. Legend) is a gay romance fantasy featuring enemies-to-lovers vibes, an age gap, arranged marriage, first times, and a happy ending (um, eventually). This is the first action-adventure romance in the Tristan Trilogy.  Mock may have written it down, but truly it’s told by your lovable host, Tristan Kanes.  He’s funny, sarcastic and while it may not seem it at times, he’s the real person in charge of this story.

Excerpt

I remember the day I was called to the Great Hall alone, which set o all kinds of warning bells. Lucca and I were attached at the hip then and were usually called to the Hall together. In hindsight, I think it was because my uncle, King Amarail Kanes, knew Lucca would react poorly when he heard the news.

I walked into the hall with my stomach already churning and when I saw that my father and uncle were not alone, it plummeted like it had been shoved in ice-cold water.

That was when I saw him for the rst time.

The power of his features came from what wasn’t there, rather than from what was. The man was devoid of imper‐ fections; not one thing about his face or his body hinted to a deciency. There was no weakness in his impenetrable demeanor—the man was used to winning and getting what he wanted. His cold purple eyes knew no warmth or sunshine and sat as sentinels atop the high bridge of his patrician nose, complementing the supercilious manner that surrounded him. Without a smile on his face, he looked cruel and stony. At the same time, there was no darkness in him, whatsoever. Gold hair owed long over silver robes that were open to reveal porcelain white skin; unmarred, and solid. The breezy, pretty robes did nothing to diminish the restrained force of his chest and abdomen muscles—he seemed to dominate the eeminate attire, as if he’d already defeated it. Not a body built for eldwork, but for blood—war.

My cock stirred for him and made it impossible to deny that I was attracted to this ice mountain of a man—I blushed. This was not the place I wanted to have an erec‐ tion. I shifted my eyes away from the prince, down to my boots, placing my hands over my crotch.

“King Vilsarion, Prince Corrik. This is Tristan, my son,” Father introduced me.

“Welcome,” I said, giving a deep bow to each using the Markaytian etiquette Papa taught me, then I took my place beside Papa.

“Tristan,” my uncle said. “We are honored to announce that we have reached an alliance with Mortouge.”

I smiled my best smile. Absolutely, bloody fantastic! The Elves didn’t align themselves with just anyone and knowing what I knew of the recent unrest in the Northeastern Plains, since we helped them a while back, I knew it was best to have as many strong alliances as possible, if the Kanes were to maintain our hold of Dragon’s Rock. For the rst time in millennia, we had to take extra measures to protect Markaytia’s crown city.

“That is excellent, Sire.” I turned to the Elven king. “I’ve been named as successor to my father at my coming-of- age ceremony, and as future Warlord, I will look forward to dealings with your Warlord. We Markaytians could learn from your teachings. I’ve read much about your weapons—I know you forge the best ones,” I gushed.

I wage for peace, but war is inevitable and the prospect of ghting alongside an Elf was exciting. All I knew of Elves at the time was of their weapons and great wars. I had little interest in their other qualities. The Elves are a beautiful, mysterious race, but I didn’t see much use getting involved in their politics or anything else about them since they were also a private race who didn’t often allow outsiders into their grand kingdom.

I didn’t expect the Elven king to frown at my words. The smile on his face lit up the room before, and especially standing next to his grouchy-looking son, the contrast was far reaching. I turned to look at Papa, confused, and he took a sharp breath, ready to cry. Father stepped between us; his dark eyes pinned me in place.

Uncle continued. “The alliance will be sealed with a marriage, Tristan. You to Prince Corrik.”

The displeasure must have been plain on my face, though I tried for the life of me to hide it.

About the Author 

Some of you know her as Mock, others as S. Legend, or Miss S.  She welcomes all names but will often go by Mock, a name given to her by her readers.

Mock is an ambitious creative, weaving the most precious aspects of her soul into stories.  She is an architect, building fascinating worlds, designed from inquiry, rooted in worldly wonderings.  It’s an intuitive process where she is the scribe, the translator, the conduit. 

It helped that storytelling was the language spoken at home.  One simply didn’t say, “We have an ant infestation. ” In Mock’s family it was, “I was on my way to the living room, when a peculiar ant crossed my path.  I looked to my right, a suspicious line of them marched toward the pantry.  In that moment I knew; my kitchen was under siege.”  The natural flow of conversation always took this form.  

And so. 

When Mock wrote her first novel, she didn’t plan it chapter by chapter, there was no outline, no “plotting” to speak of.  But she didn’t “pants” it either, she didn’t make it up as she went along.  She knew how the story felt, where it curved in places and hollowed in others; she knew the destination it rushed toward.  Instead of orchestrating, she let the world inspire her, and held space for the words to come, trusting the characters knew what they were doing.  All she had to do was tell a story, as she always had done; like breathing.  

This is her peace, her healing and solace: Gifts better shared.

Mock’s works are the comfort you seek when you need to come home.  Her unique writing style will take you, wayfaring reader, to unexpected destinations. 

She always says, “I’m not in the business of making up stories, I couldn’t if I tried.  I’m lucky enough to get picked to share someone else’s story when I ask a question to the universe.  Someone answers; I write it down.” 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |   Twitter  |  Instagram  

Newsletter Sign-up: Can either sign up at the website or email

Pinterest  |   BookBub

About the Narrator

Curtis Michael is a worldly creative and proud member of the LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities. Having traveled and taught drama overseas for upwards of the past decade, he has somewhat recently taken up voice acting and narration. You’ll hear some of the flavourings of his experience in the Tristan audiobook, as the characters are wildly inspired from not only the world of Tristan, but also Curtis’ different cultural encounters. With two dogs, two cats and a Corrik of his own, Curtis currently resides in Southeast Asia. He can be found on the many beaches or secluded in his vocal booth poring over juicy stories at every chance he gets.

Website  |  Instagram

Hosted by Gay Book Promotion

Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26) by Jessamyn Kingley #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: December 9, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes:  Enemies to lovers, fated mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 96 664 words

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

Check out the D’vaire Series on Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Demons are expected to hate the Imperian, but what if he’s your mate?

Blurb

Praetor Sashati Soriandras is adjusting to his wonderful new life as part of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. His new leader’s choice to leave the demonic realm gained Sashati’s immediate approval. There is nothing there but dark memories and a horrible legend about the butcher who ripped magic from the demons a millennium ago.

After being banished to a tiny realm, Imperian Paszratorabiel—or Paszra, as he prefers to be called—is waiting for his wings to grow back. The minute he recovers, Paszra hunts for a place to bring his family so they can find mates. When Paszra finds a planet full of interesting beings, the presence of demons is the only thing he hates about his potential new home.

When Sashati and Paszra meet, neither man is happy to learn they are mates. The demons blame Paszra for everything, while the Imperian despises Sashati’s people. However, they share a tradition of not denying Fate. But to honor the way their souls are connected, Paszra and Sashati must overcome much more than their initial dislike of each other.

Excerpt 

After they arrived in their office space, Sashati sprawled in his office chair and opened the book Arch Lich Chander Daray had suggested would further his education on the Council. 

“Reading again?” Diyarta asked. Once forced into teaching, Diyarta had left that life behind her for good. Her preference was to be in a gym sweating rather than burying her nose in between pages.

“I’m an advisor to our leader. I cannot function in that role if I don’t fully understand the Council.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m failing in my role as advisor?” Diyarta asked.

“I believe we have different strengths. You have the ear of the demons. You can advise Hexaniys on how to improve their lives. They are strangers to me and him. In our former realm and here in the Council, advisors have areas of expertise. If we were to study the same thing, our voices would be redundant.”

“You were so wasted as a guard in that palace,” Diyarta remarked.

“As long as I never have to return to such a role, I will have no complaints.”

“The same cannot be said for our people. You want to be an expert on the Council, but you cannot forget your place. Hexaniys lives with the Darays because he is one now. You are not. Hexaniys is safe surrounded by sentinels.”

“So are the demons,” Sashati replied. “They live in the Daray Sentinel Complex.”

“It is a temporary home, or at least it was supposed to be, I believed. They want to embrace being demons, not be forced into training and the things that sentinels love simply because the Imperator is mated to one.”

“No one has asked them to train. I do it because I like it.”

“As do I,” Diyarta said.

“One reason the complex suits them is because of the many classes the sentinels offer in the evenings and on weekends. It was supposed to be an avenue for the demons to learn about the Council and to find something to give their lives purpose. Instead, they shop and rest in their apartments. They will go to restaurants for meals but not to the sentinels’ cafeteria.”

“I told you, they fear being lumped in with the sentinels.”

“They must find hobbies at the very least,” Sashati replied.

“They are recovering from the atrocities they’ve endured.”

“Diyarta, they refuse to even explain what happened while we were here at the behest of Masal’akra. How are we to help them if they will not discuss the war?”

“Perhaps when the wounds are not so fresh, they’ll be more forthcoming.”

“It has been many weeks,” Sashati said.

“They worry about you living with Hexaniys among the sentinel leadership.”

It was a cause of disagreement that had slowly grown between Sashati and Diyarta. The demons supposedly wanted Sashati to live among them, but Hexaniys and the Darays had offered bedrooms to Sashati and Diyarta. His fellow praetor had refused the invitation and gone to the Daray Sentinel Complex. 

Sashati was torn between the two places and didn’t know if he was right to stay near Hexaniys, but the demon refused to be dictated to by anyone. That was a life they’d left behind, and the new Imperator gave them plenty of space to make decisions for themselves. The problem, as far as Sashati could see it, was that the demons wanted to do nothing. They spent money and complained to Diyarta instead of exploring the Council.

“The guards of other leaders often elect to share homes or land with them,” Sashati said.

“Demons must find their own path.”

“I’m entitled to do what I choose.”

“Just don’t forget that you’re a demon.”

“How could I ever do that?” Sashati asked.

“It’s easy to get swept away into this world of sorcery and shifters, even though we differ from the others in this world. Our power is lost, and we must never forget how that came to be or that there is no ability to regain it.”

“My hatred for the Imperian burns as brightly as it has since the first time I heard his name,” Sashati growled. The Imperian inspired rage in him like nothing else could, and he doubted any demon lamented the loss of their magic more than Sashati. There was so much of it around them, and it pissed Sashati off to think that if it weren’t for a single man, he’d be casting spells alongside his new allies.

“I wish I had been alive in those days. I would’ve slit his throat myself.”

“Get in line, Diyarta,” Sashati retorted.

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

Social Media Links

  Facebook |   Twitter  |   Pinterest  |  Facebook 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26) by Jessamyn Kingley

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: December 9, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes:  Enemies to lovers, fated mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 96 664 words

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

Check out the D’vaire Series on Goodreads

Demons are expected to hate the Imperian, but what if he’s your mate?

Blurb

Praetor Sashati Soriandras is adjusting to his wonderful new life as part of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. His new leader’s choice to leave the demonic realm gained Sashati’s immediate approval. There is nothing there but dark memories and a horrible legend about the butcher who ripped magic from the demons a millennium ago.

After being banished to a tiny realm, Imperian Paszratorabiel—or Paszra, as he prefers to be called—is waiting for his wings to grow back. The minute he recovers, Paszra hunts for a place to bring his family so they can find mates. When Paszra finds a planet full of interesting beings, the presence of demons is the only thing he hates about his potential new home.

When Sashati and Paszra meet, neither man is happy to learn they are mates. The demons blame Paszra for everything, while the Imperian despises Sashati’s people. However, they share a tradition of not denying Fate. But to honor the way their souls are connected, Paszra and Sashati must overcome much more than their initial dislike of each other.

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

Social Media Links

  Facebook |   Twitter  |   Pinterest  |  Facebook 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

New Audiobook – Tristan by S. Legend

AUDIOBOOK OUT NOW

Book Title: Tristan

Author: S. Legend

Publisher: S Legend Fiction

Narrator: Curtis Michael

Release Date: November 24, 2021

Genre:  Arranged Marriage M/M Romance, fantasy

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, age gap

Themes: Self-discovery, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames     

Length: 9 hours    

It is not a standalone story. Tristan is book one of the Tristan Trilogy. The story ends on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Audiobook Out Now

Audible US  |  Audible UK

Also available in Kindle Unlimited, Hardback and Paperback

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK  

An alliance forged through marriage.  The cost?  One Man’s dream.

Blurb 

An alliance forged through marriage.  The cost?  One Man’s dream.

Tristan dreams of the day he’ll succeed his father as the next Warlord of Markaytia.  Elves—creatures famous for their darker passions and tantalizing culture—approach the Markaytian king with an offer he can’t refuse: an alliance with the Elves for the one Tristan Kanes. 

Tristan is forced to give up his dream. 

He’s not thrilled, but Tristan is a man of duty above all else.  What choice does he have?  He cannot refuse the king or Markaytia. He begrudgingly comes to terms with the arranged marriage. Is he a tad sour about it?  Yes, but he’ll get over it.  

Probably.

Maybe it won’t be so bad.  Elves have cool weapons, maybe he’ll get one? 

Corrik bans him from cool weapons.

Corrik’s seen Tristan’s gruesome death on the point of a sword in a prophetic vision.  He bans Tristan from picking up a sword ever again.  Tristan wants to accept the marriage with grace to make his people proud, but he resents Corrik for his remorseless attitude over his life’s work.

Facing the Ice Prince and himself.

Tristan’s conflict follows him on the journey to the mysterious Elven land of Mortouge.  He hates Corrik for taking him from the life he loved, boy does he, but his new Elven husband is an enigma and he’s captivated.  He sets Tristan’s blood on fire and freezes it at the same time.  Corrik unravels Tristan’s true nature and despite his best efforts, Tristan falls for his ice prince. 

But Corrik won’t bend.

Corrik wants to be obeyed.  He’s demanding and possessive.  He’s overbearingly protective. 

Can these two find a suitable compromise?  Or will Tristan’s resentment and Corrik’s arrogance ruin forever their chance at love?

Tristan by Mock (S. Legend) is a gay romance fantasy featuring enemies-to-lovers vibes, an age gap, arranged marriage, first times, and a happy ending (um, eventually). This is the first action-adventure romance in the Tristan Trilogy.  Mock may have written it down, but truly it’s told by your lovable host, Tristan Kanes.  He’s funny, sarcastic and while it may not seem it at times, he’s the real person in charge of this story.

Excerpt

Hi. I’m Tristan Kanes. At least I was once upon a time. Tomorrow, who knows who I’m going to be? But I digress. I’m getting ahead of myself as usual. I’ll back up a bit. I thought it would be a good idea to attempt to run away from my destiny, but destiny tends to follow a person.

I’ve reached the upper ridges of Markaytia’s North Wood and I’ve been gone for several hours. Lucca will come after me soon. I creep to the edge of the plateau and look out to her, to Markaytia. Tomorrow, I’m to marry an Elven Prince. I know it sounds luxurious, every boy’s dream and all, but it isn’t that simple.

I must give up my entire life for this man.

It’s not long before I hear footsteps I recognize behind me. I’m certain of whom it is. I don’t even turn to look, until the tree branch pokes into my back.

He wants to fight me today, does he? I jump up with lightning speed, conditioned from the day I could stand on two feet and because I always take reconnaissance of my surroundings, I know there is a stick for me to use against him, two feet away. I snatch it up and take a defensive stance against my assassin. I strike, slice, slash, pierce, and segment his pathetic battle strategy—well, pathetic against mine. My cousin is a formidable swordsman—I outsmart him at every turn with my dexterous footwork and accom‐ plished foresight.

We’ve fought in many battles since the time we were fifteen and trained together from almost the moment we sprang from the womb—it’s in our blood. Peace is a warrior’s mission, yet in succeeding, he renders himself useless. It makes him no less driven to battle. Peace is a fleeting season, even for Markaytia, and I sense that this season of peace has had its turn and war is on the horizon. Either way, everywhere is dangerous now and the people need protection. War will continue to happen whether I want it to or not and when it does, I want to be the one leading the troops.

Now to convince my husband-to-be of that.

About the Author 

Some of you know her as Mock, others as S. Legend, or Miss S.  She welcomes all names but will often go by Mock, a name given to her by her readers.

Mock is an ambitious creative, weaving the most precious aspects of her soul into stories.  She is an architect, building fascinating worlds, designed from inquiry, rooted in worldly wonderings.  It’s an intuitive process where she is the scribe, the translator, the conduit. 

It helped that storytelling was the language spoken at home.  One simply didn’t say, “We have an ant infestation. ” In Mock’s family it was, “I was on my way to the living room, when a peculiar ant crossed my path.  I looked to my right, a suspicious line of them marched toward the pantry.  In that moment I knew; my kitchen was under siege.”  The natural flow of conversation always took this form.  

And so. 

When Mock wrote her first novel, she didn’t plan it chapter by chapter, there was no outline, no “plotting” to speak of.  But she didn’t “pants” it either, she didn’t make it up as she went along.  She knew how the story felt, where it curved in places and hollowed in others; she knew the destination it rushed toward.  Instead of orchestrating, she let the world inspire her, and held space for the words to come, trusting the characters knew what they were doing.  All she had to do was tell a story, as she always had done; like breathing.  

This is her peace, her healing and solace: Gifts better shared.

Mock’s works are the comfort you seek when you need to come home.  Her unique writing style will take you, wayfaring reader, to unexpected destinations. 

She always says, “I’m not in the business of making up stories, I couldn’t if I tried.  I’m lucky enough to get picked to share someone else’s story when I ask a question to the universe.  Someone answers; I write it down.” 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |   Twitter  |  Instagram  

Newsletter Sign-up: Can either sign up at the website or email

Pinterest  |   BookBub

About the Narrator

Curtis Michael is a worldly creative and proud member of the LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities. Having traveled and taught drama overseas for upwards of the past decade, he has somewhat recently taken up voice acting and narration. You’ll hear some of the flavourings of his experience in the Tristan audiobook, as the characters are wildly inspired from not only the world of Tristan, but also Curtis’ different cultural encounters. With two dogs, two cats and a Corrik of his own, Curtis currently resides in Southeast Asia. He can be found on the many beaches or secluded in his vocal booth poring over juicy stories at every chance he gets.

Website  |  Instagram

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Wicked Lovely (The Black Blade Chronicles, Book 1) by J.K. Hogan #kindleunlimited #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Wicked Lovely (The Black Blade Chronicles, Book 1)

Author: J.K. Hogan

Publisher:  Euphoria Press

Cover Artist: J.K. Hogan @ www.wickedpixeldesigns.com

Release Date: October 12, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers

Themes: Adventure/quest (kind of Game of Thrones-esque but queer)

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 90 000 words

It is the first book in the series and not a standalone story. There will be an HEA over a three-book arc. The first book isn’t quite a cliffhanger, more of a to be continued ending.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

A new series that combines the adventure and magic of epic fantasy with the enchantment of romance

Blurb

Darkness grows in the realm of Taleth. To the west, a power-hungry despot schemes to conquer kingdoms and territories alike by chasing an ancient elven prophecy that could give him the power to rule all. In the east, after a prince’s murder goes years unanswered, a princess learns there was much more to her brother’s death—and to her life—than she realized.

The House of Kjenelach is shaken to its foundation when Princess Sigrid is stolen away. Her faithful guardian, Sir Senne Clayward, reluctantly accepts help from his nemesis, a notorious halfling mercenary of questionable morals—but indispensable tracking skills—called Kasimir vas Hjardar.

Kasimir makes his living hunting monsters, both creatures and men. While he exists outside the law, he lives by his own unassailable code of honor. At the top of that list: never harm a child. When he turns down a contract to kidnap Sigrid and later finds out she was taken by someone else, he offers his help to the prickly knight tasked with protecting her.

Together, they embark upon a journey across the continent to save Sigrid and foil King Prosper’s plans to conquer Taleth. The way is fraught with dangers and pitfalls, from supernatural beasts to Senne’s deathly fear of magic, but they must not fail, for Sigrid may very well be the savior of the realm: the long prophesied Aisnellach Fuil. Somehow, the two men must set their differences aside and work together to rescue Sigrid, and possibly find love along the way.

Excerpt

Senne awoke to a skull-shattering headache. What the devil had happened to him? Surely he was dead. But shouldn’t one’s pain end after death? No, not dead, then. He was lying on something. He felt it, lumpy and scratchy beneath him. He attempted to blink his eyes open past the thick, drugging pain in his skull. He glimpsed a dark, empty room, a fire blazing merrily in front of him.

Senne must have lost consciousness, for it seemed like he blinked only once and a man appeared, sitting in a chair next to the fire and stropping the blade of…a small ax.

The next time Senne blinked, the man was still by the fire, but he wore nothing but loose, black trews. He was no longer stropping, but braiding his long sable-colored hair. For each braid, he would start at the hairline at his forehead and plait backward halfway down his skull, leaving the lower part of his hair loose.

Senne couldn’t help but notice the way the muscles in his broad back and thick arms bunched and rolled as he worked. But as some of the fog in Senne’s head began to clear, he realized what he was seeing: five braids in the elven style. An elf? Except this man was much too large, not willowy and slender like elves tended to be. His ears were slightly peaked rather than long and pointed. A halfling then. Wait, surely he couldn’t be that halfling, could he?

“I know you’re awake,” the halfling said as he finished his last braid. “Are you planning my death while you lie there pretending to be unconscious? You’ve already failed once, and you’re in no condition to be more successful this time.”

“I…” Gods, his head hurt. Senne could barely hang on to a single thought. His gut was telling him this man was an enemy but when he’d been at his most vulnerable, the halfling hadn’t hurt him. In fact, he was possibly…helping him?

“Who are you?”

“I am called Kasimir vas Hjardar, the Black Blade of Andrahar. Though your young maid insists upon calling me Kas.”

“Sigrid!” Senne gasped, bolting upright, then whimpering as the room spun and his head pounded. He had to pinch his lips together to keep from vomiting.

Kasimir swore and stood. “Lie down, you bloody idiot.” His words were harsh but his hands were gentle as he eased Senne back down on the lumpy cot.

“Sigrid,” Senne said again, slightly calmer but no less anxious. “I was with her. We were riding back to the Keep…”

“After you shot me.”

Senne cleared his throat and his gaze involuntarily sought out Kasimir’s right leg. He was surprised to see some sort of splinting device strapped to it. “Yes, well… I apologize for that. I was beside myself with worry when she ran away, and I…misread the situation.”

“Egregiously,” the halfling added in a bland tone.

“Yes, well…” Senne sighed. Fair enough. “After she and I talked about, ah, other things, she explained what happened. You were long gone by then, I’m afraid. Again, my sincerest apologies.”

Kasimir said nothing. He simply pulled his chair from the hearth to Senne’s bedside and sat. And waited, arched eyebrows raised.

“I don’t remember anything after that. What happened? H-how did I get here? Where’s Sigrid? D-did you do something to her?”

Kasimir sneered, his half-elven nature evident in his pointy eye teeth. “‘What happened’ is someone nearly smashed in your melon, didn’t they? I don’t bloody know who it was, and I certainly didn’t do anything to the maid.”

Senne glared at him, disbelieving. “Then why have our paths crossed again, eh? Black Blade indeed.”

“Oh, I was instrumental in our paths crossing again. After my mate patched the old leg up, I tracked you. I was going to kill you for that arrow.”

Senne growled, which only made the halfling grin. Senne couldn’t blame him. A growl from a man as weak as kitten wasn’t exactly threatening.

“I was on my way when your horse came stampeding through the woods. ‘Course I didn’t know it was your horse at the time. I caught him, and he wanted to go north so that’s what we did—”

“The horse wanted to go north?” The halfling lowered his eyes, and Senne could’ve sworn he blushed. “Elven witchery,” Senne spat.

“Oi, if that’s what it is, then elven witchery saved your useless hide.”

Senne couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

“When I found you, you were unconscious and leaking blood from your noggin like a sieve. There was no sign of the girl.”

“You set out to kill me, so why am I here…and where is here?”

“You might not believe I have any honor, but I’m not a murderer. I wasn’t going to kill someone who was defenseless, and I wasn’t about to leave a man to slowly bleed to death or get picked apart by forest predators. There are few I’d wish that kind of death on. So I slung you over your Dagfinn and led him to my mate’s cabin.”

The halfling watched Senne with his unsettling blue eyes, so blue as to be almost colorless, slightly tipped up and ringed in inky black lashes. He was waiting for something, but Senne had no idea what.

Senne licked his dry, cracked lips. “Why? Why bring me to this hovel instead of dumping me in the village and letting someone else take the burden?”

A muscle twitched in Kasimir’s jaw. “First of all, this hovel belongs to my oldest friend, and it’s thanks to him that you’re lying comfortably in a bed right now instead of in a shallow grave, so have some respect.” He paused to calm his ire before speaking again. “As to your question, I don’t much like the village. Each time I go somehow results in almost losing my life. Besides, I’m still healing from my own injury…” He glared at Senne. “And the cottage was closer. I have a small amount of healing magic in my ‘elven witchery’ quiver, and it’s kept you alive so far. I want you to heal so that when I kill you, it will have been a fair fight.”

Senne snorted. He might quite enjoy sparring with the halfling when they were both at full strength. The amusing thought gave way to worry, however, then panic over Sigrid. Where was she? Was she even alive? He tried to sit up again, this time fighting through the dizziness and nausea that swamped him.

“Oi!” Kasimir rubbed a hand over his face in a mark of clear exasperation. “I’m still not entirely sure you’re not going to die of that cracked skull of yours. I’m not that good a healer, only a halfling after all,” he said with derision.

Senne winced. “Yes, I know, but I have to take that chance. I have to find Sigrid. I can’t even go to the Guard for help, because if what you said is true, we still have traitors in our midst. No one can be trusted. I’ve got to go after her.

Kasimir looked toward the precarious ceiling of the shack and swore. “Can’t believe I’m gonna say this…but if you’ll just stay here one more day or so, get some food in you and let the magic do its work… I’ll help you bloody track her.”

“Why?” Senne asked suspiciously. “Why would you do that for me, someone you’d intended to kill?”

Kasimir looked horrified. “You? I’ll not be doin’ it for you. I’m fond of the girl, all right? She saved me from being garroted when she felled the third highwayman. And besides, I think I might…have an idea who took her.”

Senne sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and stared at the halfling for long moments. “What?

About the Author 

J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, she found her true passion. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them.

J.K. resides in North Carolina with her husband, two sons, and their pets. If she isn’t writing, J.K. can be found designing book covers at Wicked Pixel Designs, creating fiber art and supplies at Earthbound Fiber Arts watching Hurricanes Hockey and, of course, reading!

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter

Instagram  |   Amazon  |  Pinterest

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your choice of ebook from the author’s backlist

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Wicked Lovely (The Black Blade Chronicles, Book 1) by J.K. Hogan #giveaway

PRE-RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Wicked Lovely (The Black Blade Chronicles, Book 1)

Author: J.K. Hogan

Publisher:  Euphoria Press

Cover Artist: J.K. Hogan @ www.wickedpixeldesigns.com

Release Date: October 12, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers

Themes: Adventure/quest (kind of Game of Thrones-esque but queer)

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 90 000 words

It is the first book in the series and not a standalone story. There will be an HEA over a three-book arc. The first book isn’t quite a cliffhanger, more of a to be continued ending.

Goodreads

Pre-Order Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

“Coming soon from the mind of romance author J.K. Hogan: a new series that combines the adventure and magic of epic fantasy with the enchantment of romance.”

Blurb

Darkness grows in the realm of Taleth. To the west, a power-hungry despot schemes to conquer kingdoms and territories alike by chasing an ancient elven prophecy that could give him the power to rule all. In the east, after a prince’s murder goes years unanswered, a princess learns there was much more to her brother’s death—and to her life—than she realized.

The House of Kjenelach is shaken to its foundation when Princess Sigrid is stolen away. Her faithful guardian, Sir Senne Clayward, reluctantly accepts help from his nemesis, a notorious halfling mercenary of questionable morals—but indispensable tracking skills—called Kasimir vas Hjardar.

Kasimir makes his living hunting monsters, both creatures and men. While he exists outside the law, he lives by his own unassailable code of honor. At the top of that list: never harm a child. When he turns down a contract to kidnap Sigrid and later finds out she was taken by someone else, he offers his help to the prickly knight tasked with protecting her.

Together, they embark upon a journey across the continent to save Sigrid and foil King Prosper’s plans to conquer Taleth. The way is fraught with dangers and pitfalls, from supernatural beasts to Senne’s deathly fear of magic, but they must not fail, for Sigrid may very well be the savior of the realm: the long prophesied Aisnellach Fuil. Somehow, the two men must set their differences aside and work together to rescue Sigrid, and possibly find love along the way.

About the Author 

J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, she found her true passion. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them.

J.K. resides in North Carolina with her husband, two sons, and their pets. If she isn’t writing, J.K. can be found designing book covers at Wicked Pixel Designs, creating fiber art and supplies at Earthbound Fiber Arts watching Hurricanes Hockey and, of course, reading!

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter

Instagram  |   Amazon  |  Pinterest

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

a $20 Amazon Gift Card.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions