Sep 08

Book Blitz: Shifting Forces by Cassidy McKay (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Shifting Forces

Series: Protect and Serve 8

Author: Cassidy McKay

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: Sept 1

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Female/Male (No Male/Male interaction)

Length: 70 pages

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Action Adventure, Bisexual, Multisexual & Pansexual, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Military, Veterans, and First Responders, Multiple Partners, Shapeshifters

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Synopsis

Aurora Monroe has detailed plans for her life — and not one of them includes being barefoot, pregnant and under the thumbs of two decidedly alpha males. But what’s a girl to do when she has two sexy shifters both trying to claim mating rights?

When two paranormals on opposite sides of the war save an injured human, they unintentionally mark her as their wife. Bonded by blood, fire and passion, the gryphon and phoenix shifters do everything they can to keep their new human mate safe.

Getting her to go along with the plan is a different matter. She has no intention of following their orders. Found in defiance of both human laws and paranormal traditions, the battle for their rights turns into a fight for their lives.

Sex between a human and her two shifters can be spectacular, but is it worth risking everything for a chance at forever?

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Cassidy McKay

Varick’s Blog

“Paranormals are just like us. They deserve equal rights, equal status under the law, and no less than our full understanding and cooperation!” I watch from the outskirts, close enough to hear, but not a part of the crowd. A smattering of applause greets the pretty redhead as she finishes her speech on the stairs in front of the white columned government building.

A heated, spicy tingle warms my body as she steps down, her nipples tight and visible in the oh-so-proper sweater she wears over a blouse against the chill wind. Staid, gray slacks demurely outline her curvy figure. Mmm. Definitely my kind of woman… proper on the outside, but all fiery and full of fight on the inside.

Only a few dozen people brave enough to show up for the rally now stand in the square. It’s mostly your typical malcontents and troublemakers, but there are a few who look like they might actually give a damn.

I can’t decide whether the woman has balls of steel or is dangerously naive. More than likely, a little of both. A tall, unkempt man makes his way to the front of the group, standing on the concrete base of a light pole like a monkey, spouting obscenities and tossing crap about how humans are better than paras. The crowd grows, becoming restless as the man yells, gaining the attention of the cops outside City Hall.

I stay in the shadows of the storefront across the street, where I can watch without being seen. Easier said than done most times, but I’ve gotten good at it. Most of us have. Coming out as a paranormal isn’t a fashionable, celebrity thing to do anymore. It’s a life sentence. The government took care of that. So much for equality.

I’m Varick Gerard. Used to be a paramedic, but now I’m labeled a criminal. Just because I’m a shifter, I was legally forced out of my profession, my home, and the comfortable life I once lived. Phoenix shifters aren’t inherently evil. Given the choice, I’d rather save lives than take them. I don’t like to fight. While some of the other paras here live for nothing else, it just isn’t my thing. I don’t steal, I don’t destroy things, and I don’t kill people unnecessarily. I may have lost everything else, but I still have my principles.

Me, I’m a loner. It’s a phoenix thing. Most of us are. I don’t mind being around people, I’m just not into long-term commitments. Sex? Yeah, I’m definitely into that. I can burn up a bed like nobody’s business. And that woman up there — she’d be right at the center of my pyre of passion on most days.

But not today. Something’s in the air, I can feel it. I’ve been chased out of more cities than I can remember, just because I choose to survive. What’s left of the local police force musters in front of the building. Riot shields and batons at the ready, the leader shouts into a megaphone for the crowd to disperse. Chaos has a strong following in this town.

The cops advance in a restless, unsteady line — a phalanx of toy human soldiers pitting themselves against the evil paranormals. Same shit, different location. That isn’t what’s bothering me, though. There’s something else, just on the edge… It’s like I can almost feel it, taste it, but it keeps slipping past me.

“Hey, phoenix-dude, come on! The goon-squad is coming out to play.” A short, pimply vampire pauses, motioning for me to join the unruly mob gathering in the shadows, waiting for their chance to pick someone off.

He’s annoying — hangs around all the time, always trying to get me to kill something with him. I think he just wants to see what a phoenix can do. Lucky for him, I’m not really a joiner. “No thanks, I’m heading out. Good luck with that.”

He shrugs and sprints off, his fangs standing at attention and ready to rumble. Idiot. Time to leave this burg. I don’t need the cops on my ass or any more problems than I already have. It’s not worth the trouble.

A woman’s annoyed yell yanks me to attention. “Leave me alone! I haven’t done anything wrong!” The redhead struggles against one of the officers, landing a solid whack on his neck where the protective gear doesn’t protect.

My smile fights to break free — the girl’s a fighter, all right.

“Submit willingly, Miss, and you’ll just be charged with disorderly conduct.”

The cop doesn’t look old enough to have graduated high school, let alone wear a badge. He can’t seem to decide between juggling his shield, going on to a more willing arrestee, or grabbing his cuffs and taking his chances against the wildcat.

My bet is on the girl.

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Changeling Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes | Smashwords

Meet the Author

Cassidy lives in the beautiful state of Washington and is surrounded by mysterious rain forests, tempestuous oceans and enough gorgeous scenery to inspire stories for at least another two hundred years.

She’s been reading romances since she was thirteen, and writing them since she was fifteen. However, the serious writing bug didn’t bite until much later in life, inspired by her talented husband (who is also a writer!).

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Sep 08

New Release Blitz ~ Haints Everywhere by J. Hali Steele (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title: Haints Everywhere

Author: J. Hali Steele

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: August 1, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 33 pages

Genre: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Hot Flash, New Releases, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Razor’s Edge Erotica, Romance

Synopsis

Former Evangelist Patrick Stevens packed his secrets away and kept traveling. Now he knows the fate that awaits him, and he wakes each morning waiting for the day he’ll meet the devil in Hell. Today’s different. Today Patrick meets him — a man who, unlike any of those he’s recently taken to his bed, manages to turn Patrick’s world upside down. Not today, Satan.

The moment he enters Brake Away, Robert Wilson’s senses are assaulted. He’s stopped dead in his tracks by a pair of gray eyes that appear to see into his soul. Not my type, he assures himself. But still, he visualizes undoing each button of the gentleman’s fancy clothing. What he doesn’t imagine is becoming the plaything of deadly and powerful otherworldly creatures…

Excerpt

Haints Everywhere (Haint Misbehaving 6)
J. Hali Steele
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 J. Hali Steele

Growing up in a poor neighborhood outside St. Louis, Missouri, Patrick Stevens was used to having nothing. As a young man who found his way onto a holy path, he found solace in God’s service. And the arms of any man I coerced into my bed.

Sinner. Now, Patrick had money. Lots of it. Stolen, pilfered, at this point he didn’t care how he received the almighty dollar. He enjoyed the comfort of lavish living. There was a time he’d have railed against anyone who acted as he did. This was not that time.

The transgressions he’d committed had begun centuries ago when he was a traveling pastor continuing his Godly pursuit. Singlemindedness and restraint were developed. Patrick had discovered early how to compartmentalize. It was as if he packed his base side into a box and carted it from city to city. After each indiscretion, he envisioned placing his dark secret back into a tiny container and shoving it far to the back of his mind.

The symbolism of the box hidden in his mind was the reason Patrick learned to fashion small wooden vessels from a young man in Laurel Bloomery, Tennessee — one of his favorite places to preach the word. He chose cedar for its scent and because mention of the trees could be plucked from a few holy versus of the bible. As if that would provide a good enough reason for God to forgive me.

Recently, while he’d been in Arkansas visiting a man with whom he occasionally enjoyed relations, Patrick had recognized a haint’s familiar scent. The haint had bedded another of Patrick’s… he thought of the haints as resurrections. When he discovered the scent belonged to Luke, Patrick had been excited. He’d trailed behind Luke since the haint left Arkansas, and now Patrick maintained watch on Luke’s residence.

Although he had known every haint who existed, Patrick had never attempted to contact any of them until now. Tonight, he stood in front of a suite on the eighth floor of the Viceroy Santa Monica Hotel in Los Angeles hoping to set things right. What would he say? He heard a voice near the door and knew he didn’t have long to ponder his question.

“Wake my partner and I’ll slither into your ass, motherfucker, then drop you into la la land.” The door was yanked open. “Who the fuck are you?”

Patrick recognized the man as one of the Philadelphia haints — his name was Web and he likely traveled with his lover, Casper Wainright, who was probably asleep in the bedroom. His thick cock swung free and, Christ, his shaft was magnificent as it began to jerk between his thighs. Patrick managed to blurt, “Stevens.” He wasn’t ready to divulge everything yet. “I’d like to speak to Luke.”

“Okay, Stevens, how can Luke help you?” A big grin split the good-looking man’s face. “Luke’s uh, resting. With Dallas. Perhaps I can assist your handsome ass.” He turned toward the interior of the suite. “Luke, someone to see you.” Web started stroking his shaft.

Lord help me! Trying not to stare at Web’s dick, Patrick angled to see past him. He observed Luke gently lift a guy who slept in his arms. The carefulness with which he carried the young man out of sight dumbfounded Patrick.

The fact they’d fallen asleep butt ass naked on the sofa came as no surprise, though. Patrick had encountered circumstances like this when he released his woodsy aroma, enticing one, sometimes two men to whatever hotel room he occupied. But I never cared for them or their comfort in such a manner. Goodness sake’s, the spirits inside the room didn’t even bother to mask their scent. Patrick’s cock started a dance in his pants. What the hell? “Long as you’re not going to tone down the cedar, I’m game.” He released his own scent into the air.

The fragrant mist surrounded Patrick and Web, who pivoted and glowered. “Impossible. You’re a… Who the fuck did you say you were?”

“Stevens.” Patrick asked, “You going to leave me standing out here? Our erotic bouquet might wake the whole hotel.”

Purchase at Changeling Press LLC

Meet the Author

Growl and roar — it’s okay to let the beast out. — J. Hali Steele

J. Hali Steele wishes she could grow fur, wings, or fangs, so she can stay warm, fly, or just plain bite the crap out of… Well, she can’t do those things but she wishes she could!

J. Hali’s a multi-published Amazon bestselling author of Romance in Paranormal, Fantasy, and Contemporary worlds which include ReligErotica and LGBTQ stories where humans, vampyres, shapeshifters and angels collide — and they collide a lot! When J. Hali’s not writing or reading, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a cat in her lap, and a cup of coffee.

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Sep 05

New Release Blitz: Borders Between Empires by Sasha Hope (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Borders Between Empires

Series: A Luxor City Novel

Author: Sasha Hope

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 09/05/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 57600

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, paranormal, crime, gay, shifter, Alpha/omega dynamic, organized crime, police/detective

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Description

Detective Hanni Nassar finds himself in enemy territory while investigating a string of robberies. After accidentally crossing the Central Empire’s borderline, he comes face to face with Jaemin Yi, a high-ranking Alpha of the Southern Empire’s Elite.

A cop and a gangster, both Hanni and Jaemin are suspicious of each other at first. Jaemin wants to know what Hanni’s doing on Southern turf, and Hanni wants to know if Jaemin’s notorious boss has any involvement with his case. Their initial meeting is tense, but soon Jaemin starts pursuing him for his own dissolute reasons.

Despite the clandestine rumblings through the streets of Luxor City, this isn’t about a case anymore.

Jaemin Yi is persistent. He thaws Hanni’s frigid airs and shows him there’s nothing wrong with caving to his more primal desires once in a while. As an Omega working in an Alpha-dominated field, Hanni has buried the Omegan side of himself, and Jaemin seems keen to draw it to the surface.

But where did his sudden interest come from? And will the lines crossed be too much for Hanni to handle or will adversarial passions heat up the borders between Empires?

Excerpt

Borders Between Empires
Sasha Hope © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Crossing Borders

Being an officer of the law in a gang-run town like Luxor City was an admitted contradiction. Hanni Nassar had accepted this fact as soon as he’d decided to join the force. The entire experience had been what some might call a bit of a rough ride, but he’d survived the salacious comments about his small Omegan build, his cute curls, and his lovely tan. He flew through basic training and even surpassed some of the Alphas on his final scores. It was an accomplishment very few Omegas could attest to.

Years later, he was still one of only two Omegas in his precinct. Exhausting as it was trying to prove day in and day out that as an Omega he could hold his own in even the most Alpha-dominated environments, Hanni stuck it out.

After the academy and basic training, he took an assignment at the Central Empire’s Southern Border Precinct and had been working there ever since. He was a Central Empire brat, born and raised, proud to serve his community. However, with every business on every street corner being owned or operated or protected by Luxor City’s old crime families, in reality, Hanni served the Central Empire first and the law second. His work and the work of every officer in the Central Empire was to protect the interests of the Empire and its Alpha leader, Dominik Wesa.

The job paid well, but Luxor City wasn’t an ideal place to fight crime. The list of actual laws the police could meaningfully enforce was short to say the least. Some laws were obvious, of course: break-ins, theft, vandalism, speeding…but even then, if you stopped the wrong car and a member of the Wesa Family stepped out, well, that was asking for trouble.

As the leader of the Central Empire, Dominik Wesa’s interests were typically aligned with those of the police force. He didn’t want drug dealers on his streets, neither did they. He didn’t want disorderly conduct running rampant, neither did they. He didn’t want thieves stealing from his businesses…and that’s where they’d run into serious issues lately.

Through hard work and perseverance, Hanni had moved up through the ranks and was now a detective for the Southern Border Precinct. His jurisdiction extended over a strip of the Central Empire that ran across the island, coast to coast, just north of the Southern Empire. There had been a spate of robberies in the area at a few of the bars in the Central Empire’s lower downtown. Over the course of two months, more than a hundred thousand dollars had been stolen. It was pennies to a man like Dominik Wesa, but as the Alpha of the Central Empire, he had been very firm in letting the police force know he was going to make sure his interests were protected one way or another.

“I don’t think I need to explain that the police force doesn’t have any sort of monopoly on violence in this Empire. So if we don’t want Dominik Wesa and his lot handling this, we’ve gotta get on it,” Hanni’s police chief, Noor, had said as she handed him a file. “Consider it a mercy if we can get these guys behind bars before they end up in a heavy, metal shipping container a few thousand leagues under the sea.” She had chuckled before patting him on the back and leaving him with the case.

At least Hanni could be tempered by the fact that he was never bored on the job. He sighed as he looked over the case file. Scrolling through the tablet, he saw the main suspect of the three hadn’t been quite good enough at asymmetries in his disguise to block his appearance from the AI security systems at the last place they hit up. Using footage from the heist, Hanni was easily able to uncover the suspect’s identity and track him to his place of work on the edge of the border.

Hanni spent a few tedious days at his desk staring at holo-screens, tracking the man’s comings and goings. The video surveillance footage followed the man from his work to his car to his home. Running a security algorithm showed Hanni that with only five percent deviation his suspect went to work then went straight home except on Thursdays. On Thursdays he went somewhere the cameras couldn’t track him before returning home much later that night.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough of a lead to give Hanni something to do other than sit at his desk staring at grainy security footage. And so that next Thursday, he took the logical step and followed the suspect from work to the unknown location.

Hanni waited until the end of the day and parked a few blocks from the factory where the suspect worked. The sky was overcast, pitch black, and the streetlamps barely lit the alleys Hanni was traveling through to keep out of his suspect’s sights.

Like every previous Thursday, the suspect left his work walking with a casual ease. Whistling to himself, unaware he was being followed, he made his way through Luxor City’s back alleys.

Hanni twisted and turned through the dark, tailing the man across the city for a good half hour. The suspect walked into a dead-end alley and his whistling stopped.

Hanni froze in the shadows. The alley was barely lit by the red glow of a set of bulbous neon lamps hanging outside a small import-export business at the far end. The crimson glow hardly brightened anything in the shadows between buildings.

Standing between the mouth of the alleyway and the dead end, the suspect glanced around quickly before opening a door and dipping into a ramshackle old building. A warehouse of some sort. It sat tucked away and probably was being used to house something illicit. Hanni planned to find out just what that something was.

A broken window, open just a crack, allowed him to see his suspect walking into a room where a few others had clearly been waiting for him. Their voices reverberated through the big empty space as they spoke, making it hard to distinguish their words. Hanni leaned into the window, trying his best to get close enough to hear.

“Took you long enough,” one man huffed.

“Some of us have to work,” his suspect replied.

A third man chuckled. “Huh, well, you’ll be able to quit that shitty day job of yours once all of this is done. I heard we’re going to hit up something bigger than Wesa’s little bars next month.”

“Oh yeah?”

Hanni frowned upon hearing those words. Next month they were changing tack? What could they be planning?

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Sasha Hope is a lover of story, art and design based in Canada. As a writer and an artist, she enjoys having the opportunity to create new characters and build new worlds for readers to explore. Having studied linguistics and a myriad of languages from a young age, she is passionate about including characters of different backgrounds in her work. Whether the setting is fantasy or reality, she believes that a diverse cast with diverse languages and cultures is a wonderful thing.

Crafting stories that embrace MM romance and erotica is her modus operandi. When she is not creating new worlds she is travelling this one looking for inspiration or enjoying her career in the videogame industry.

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Aug 29

New Release Blitz: Sympathy for the Gods by Tallie Rose (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Sympathy for the Gods

Series: Briar Constance, Book Three

Author: Tallie Rose

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/29/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Female, Female/Female

Length: 70900

Genre: Fantasy, Fantasy, family-drama, gods, blood magic, lesbian, bisexual, nonbinary, witches, fae, murder, death, prime minister

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Description

With the death of Eliana, Briar had hoped the danger for her and her friends had passed, but killing a Goddess comes with consequences.

As Briar struggles to deal with her new life and responsibilities as conduit, Bastianna rallies others to try to destroy everything she is working for. A group of fanatics, known as Believers, want Briar to pay for her sins. Meanwhile, Eliana’s father Ivian wanders the earth as a fallen God. When he joins the Believers, lured by their promise of revenge, everyone Briar loves is in danger.

Will her new powers of Conduit be enough to keep them safe? Can Briar once again defeat a God?

Excerpt

Sympathy for the Gods
Tallie Rose © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Early morning sun streamed into the nearly empty window display of Briar’s old shop. The only thing remaining was a book stand, the FOR SALE sign balanced precariously in its metal arms. Now, there would be a new inhabitant. Red lettering announced the building had sold.

Her once beloved shop was going to sell coffee, just like half the other buildings in Wesvik. She’d boxed the stock up, shoving first editions into her linen closet while she did her best not to cry in front of Lillia. She didn’t think she could handle the sympathy.

Briar watched the retreating figures of the buyer and agent. She’d signed the papers and the loss had carved a hole in the pit of her stomach. She tried to remember what she’d gained. She could have any book deal she wanted now. She was the conduit, though she still hadn’t figured out exactly what that would mean except filtering people’s sadness and grief.

Lillia and Fauna urged her to accept her new role. There was nothing to run from. Her new power and position were not an enemy to defeat, they were part of her. But she also saw the way Lillia looked at her sometimes, the way her eyes took in Briar’s flawless skin, the slight glow that emanated beneath it. She felt other, even further apart from everyone else than she had been before.

Soren told her to do whatever she wanted. He whispered it when the others weren’t listening, reminding her that she hadn’t chosen this, that she could still pick the path of her life. She didn’t owe anyone anything. But every nerve beneath her skin told her she did.

New magic spread out, a web through the world, reaching into the beyond, and she could always feel the Gods, just a pull away. She pressed her forehead to the cool glass then she stepped away. She couldn’t run the bookshop. She couldn’t let the women who worked there deal with the constant barrage of people wanting things: help for sick kids, help with their bills, but mostly they just wanted to see if she was real, to see if the Gods had truly returned.

She sighed and turned, leaving the shop behind, and wiped her tears. Speaking of coffee, she could use some caffeine. She’d barely slept the night before, dreading the morning, but now it was done. There were only a few blocks between her store and her favorite coffee shop. She pulled her collar up before she ordered and tried not to make eye contact.

Coffee in hand, Briar found a spot outside. She stretched into the rays of the sun like a cat, and pulled out her phone, barely noticing the footsteps that approached, assuming some stranger wanted something. She glanced up, a quip ready on her tongue, and her heart skipped a beat.

Bastianna sank into the seat across from her, smiling sweetly.

“What do you want?” She’d seen her on TV, on social media. Bastianna’s face seemed to be everywhere these days, constantly calling Briar a murderer. She was nothing but a sad fraud, but that didn’t keep the followers, Believers as they called themselves, from flocking to her.

“Things are bad between us, Briar.”

The world’s largest understatement. “Do you think it’s because I’m fucking Lillia or because you’re a psychopath trying to kill me? I’ve been debating it.”

A muscle in Bastianna’s jaw twitched at the mention of Lillia but her smile stayed plastered on. She opened her mouth to talk but Briar held up a hand, cutting her off.

“And it’s so odd, you’re constantly saying I killed the Gods, that you’re a true believer, blah, blah, blah, but I’m the conduit. The Gods come at my beck and call. Makes you a little hard to believe.”

“Are you done?”

A man stared at them from the next table. Good. Briar was glad to have witnesses. She caught his eye for just a moment before turning back to Bastianna. “She doesn’t mention you, you know. Though when would she have time? And I’m sure you know how delicious she is.” Bastianna’s smile finally died and Briar smirked in its wake. “Definitely not an easy person to lose, but I’d imagine you’re used to people leaving you. You’ve got abandonment issues written all over you.”

“I wanted to talk about Ivian.” Sparks flared at Bastianna’s fingertips and Briar wished she would try something, right now in the crowded street, full of witnesses.

“Why? As far as I can tell he’s waiting out his time.” At least, that’s what she hoped. Ivian was a fallen God, his punishment older than time itself. The finer points of what being a fallen God meant were hazy. But it seemed he had two choices: atonement or death. She couldn’t see how he could atone for trying to kill her, for nearly killing Evaria. Not unless he was about to pop out and take down Bastianna, which she’d really like to see.

“He’s contacted me. I won’t tell you where he is.”

“I bet I could make you.”

“Is that a threat? From the conduit?” She clucked her tongue. “Anyway, he’d like to talk, and I think you owe him that since you murdered his daughter.”

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Tallie Rose lives in Charleston, SC with two kids, five cats, two goldfish, and one dog. She spends her spare time thrifting, watching bad TV, and reading books.

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Aug 29

New Release Blitz: All Hail the Underdogs by E.L. Massey (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title: All Hail the Underdogs

Series: Breakaway, Book Three

Author: E.L. Massey

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/29/2023

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 78100

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, gay, interracial, YA/new adult, sports, ice hockey, team mates, writer, humorous, private school/ dorm life, slow burn, enemies to friends to boyfriends, enemies/rivals to boyfriends, coming of age, coming out, adoption, alcohol/underage drinking, family drama, emancipation, accidental baby acquisition

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Description

When seventeen-year-old Patrick Roman is offered a scholarship to a top hockey preparatory school, he thinks maybe his notorious bad luck has finally ended. With a hearing for his legal emancipation on the horizon, he dreams of getting scouted and securing a place on a D1 college team. There’s only one problem: Roman has serious beef with his new winger on the team, Damien Bordeaux. They’re supposed to be perfectly in sync on the ice. But Roman, with his buzzcut and tattoos, has nothing in common with trust-fund-kid Damien, his floral scrunchies, and designer T-shirts that cost more than all of Roman’s secondhand hockey gear combined.

When eighteen-year-old Damien Bordeaux starts his senior year, he tells himself he’s going to focus on hockey and school. No more making out in the stacks, no more dorm parties. He needs to decide what his future will look like. Does he pursue his long-held dream of becoming an author? Or stay in his lane and do what he’s good at: hockey. Regardless, he’s not going to let any pretty boys distract him from figuring his shit out. Except his new center, Roman, is possibly the most beautiful boy Damien has ever seen. And his hockey—the way he moves on the ice—might be even more beautiful. Too bad he’s also probably a homophobic, racist asshole.

But their antagonistic beginning turns into an unlikely friendship and then turns into something much scarier for them both. Navigating relationships is hard enough for normal teenagers. It’s a lot harder when contending with lawyers, NHL scouts, and mutual past trauma. Roman and Damien have to decide: What do they really want in life? Are they willing to fight for each other—including fighting against their own pasts and prejudices—so they can have a happy ending?

Excerpt

All Hail the Underdogs
E.L. Massey © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Patrick Roman has his mother’s eyes and his father’s nose, and on his face, they’re still a family.

He considers his reflection in the filmy bus station bathroom mirror. He rubs his thumb down the raised line of scar tissue bisecting his chin: pink and new and only partially hidden in the drip-paint collage of his freckles, and then rubs harder, more habit than intention.

After spending the summer as a stern man on his uncle’s crab boat—sorting, banding, baiting, resetting, trying his best to repair the limping hydraulic trap hauler that should have been scrapped a decade ago—layers of sunburn have turned into a tan, multiplying the pigment across his nose and cheeks and shoulders to a point where he looks constantly dirty. As if he’d been working in his other uncle’s garage and absently smeared an oiled forearm over his face.

His cousin Saoirse once said that Patrick looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. He thinks she was trying to be mean. Or elitist. Or both. But he sort of agrees with her. He didn’t know who Jackson Pollock was, at first, but when he went with his aunt into town the following weekend, he used the library computer to google him.

At thirteen, with new calluses on his palms from his first-ever crab haul, constant peeling skin over his nose and shoulders, and the kind of secret that scrapes your insides hollow, he’d found the paintings, grainy and pixelated as they were on the old computer monitor, strangely familiar.

Maybe he is like a Jackson Pollock painting: a dark, incensed, anxious spatter of reds and yellows and blacks and blues. Too much color for one canvas. Too much feeling for containment. Too much, maybe, in general.

Someone bangs on the bathroom door, and he stops glaring at his reflection because there’s nothing much he can do about it.

He uses a paper towel to dry his hands, runs his fingers, still damp, over his buzzed hair, and shoulders his duffel bag.

St. James Academy is waiting.

He googled St. James when he googled the rest of the best hockey prep schools in the country.

Same library.

Same shitty library computer.

Initially, he wanted to try to play for a junior team; he was good enough, he’d been scouted. But now, money issues aside, billeting would be all but impossible considering his legal situation. So he’d spent stolen hours at school and after work searching boarding schools with prep hockey teams, comparing stats and rosters and course offerings. He sent in his game tapes and paperwork with scraped-together application fees and letters of recommendation from his former and current coaches.

He applied to six schools and was accepted at two.

St. James was the closest, not that he really cared about staying close, but his lawyer said it would make things easier for possible future hearings if he was within a few hours’ drive of Port Marta.

St. James was also the cheapest, which he did care about, and it routinely produced D1 prospects, which was his primary concern. A full scholarship with housing, a meal plan, and a chance to elevate his game to the point that maybe, next year, he could get a scholarship to college? An easy decision.

After getting a handful of salt-crusted hundreds from his uncle at the harbor early that morning as payment for his summer of work, he’d hitched a ride with another stern man from Port Marta to Brunswick and then took a Greyhound from there to Concord, and then a city bus to the station closest to St. James.

And now he’s here, standing outside with a paper map from his library’s equally shitty printer, a duffel bag from the army surplus store full of abused hockey gear, and an address written in permanent marker on his wrist. It’s three miles away, but he’s not about to waste money on an Uber.

He shoulders his bag and starts walking.

The campus looks exactly like the online pictures—sun-dappled and idyllic, with people lounging under trees and throwing frisbees and weaving colorful bikes in and out of foot traffic on immaculate sidewalks.

He’s too hot in his leather jacket, and the strap of his bag is rubbing the side of his neck raw, but he walks with a purpose and doesn’t make eye contact when people look at him.

And people do look at him.

He’s six foot two, dressed all in black and carrying a bag over his shoulder that’s nearly as big as he is. Doubtless, he stands out like some sort of hulking freckled raven among songbirds.

By the time he finds the administration building, his palms are so sweaty it’s hard to get the stupidly ornate door open. Once inside, standing in line on the marble floors, looking up at the vaulted ceiling, the whispered assertion that’s been following him since he stepped foot on campus gets louder: You do not belong here. He’s felt that way for most his life, though, wherever he was, so it isn’t that disconcerting.

He clears his throat when it’s his turn, stepping up to the counter at the student center.

“I’m a transfer,” he says. “Patrick Roman. I need to pick up my dorm keys.”

Before the receptionist has a chance to answer, though, the person behind him speaks.

“You’re our new center?”

He turns to look at the speaker and pauses.

Because he recognizes the boy’s face.

He’s seen it on rosters and game footage and even a few news articles.

During his research, Patrick memorized the names of three players at St. James Academy. Three players he thought were exceptionally good. These would be your peers, he told himself.

The first was Aiden Kane. Junior. Winger. Number 5.

The second was Justin Lefevre. Senior. Defense. Captain. Number 73.

The third is now standing in front of him.

Damien Raphael Bordeaux. Senior. Winger. Number 21.

What he didn’t anticipate is that, off the ice, Damien Raphael Bordeaux looks a lot less like the goon he does on the ice and a lot more like the kind of boy Patrick’s father warned him against becoming, sometimes with words, but sometimes with fists.

Because off the ice, Damien wears cuffed skinny jeans stretched tight over the bulk of his thighs and half-unbuttoned floral shirts and velvet scrunchies to hold back his long, curly hair. His dark skin is clear and pore-less, and the delicate gold chain around his neck should look out of place on someone so broad, but it doesn’t.

He is irritatingly well-groomed.

He’s also waiting for an answer.

“Yeah?” Patrick manages, and it maybe comes out more aggressive than he intended.

“I’m Damien,” Damien Raphael Bordeaux says, extending a hand and smiling with straight white teeth and the easy confidence that comes with money. “I’m on the hockey team too.”

He has the slightest accent that might be French. Of course, he does.

Damien’s hand is warm and dry, and the torn calluses on Patrick’s own chapped hand scrape jarringly against his palm.

“Rome,” Patrick says. Because if there’s one thing hockey has given him, it’s a name that his father didn’t.

Damien squeezes his fingers, holds on a moment past comfortable, grins wider so the skin around his eyes crinkles, and says, “Rome. Cool. Coach says you’re going to be my new center.”

And all Rome can think is:

Oh no.

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Meet the Author

E. L. Massey is a human. Probably. She lives in Austin, Texas, with her partner, the best dog in the world (an unbiased assessment), and a frankly excessive collection of books. She spends her holidays climbing mountains and writing fan fiction, occasionally at the same time.

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Aug 22

New Release Blitz: Rescue by Sean Ian O’Meidhir and Connal Braginsky (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Rescue

Series: Darklight, Book Two

Author: Sean Ian O’Meidhir and Connal Braginsky

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/22/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 54800

Genre: Paranormal, Vampire, Mage, Neurodiverse, Autism, Magic, MM, Paranormal, Conspiracy, Supernatural, Gay

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Description

Nathen, a newly created vampire, diagnosed with autism, and his boyfriend, Cameron, a telepath, find themselves swept up into a corporate plot between two seemingly rival corporations working together to create monsters.

In so doing, they uncover a piece of tech they take to their technomage friend whose skills surpass their own. However, in exchange for information, they must assist in rescuing an ally—a rescue mission that brings them face-to-face with the darker side of this world.

Excerpt

Rescue
Sean Ian O’Meidhir / Connall Braginsky © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
CAMERON

“Oh man, I don’t care what you two say, she was F-I-N-E, fine.”

Cameron side-eyed his best friend. “Syn, this is serious, and all you’re thinking about is her ass?”

“All you think about is his ass.” Laying on the couch, her feet kicking over the back, Syn shot a look across at Nathen, who perched on the edge of the arm of the recliner where Cameron sat.

“I think it is safe to say that we think about various parts of each other’s body, some not so obvious.” Nathan cast a cryptic grin at Cameron.

Snorting, his raven-haired friend stuck out her tongue in disgust, waggling a finger. “Oh no, I do not think about either of your parts.”

“You two, please. Aside from the fact that—What do we even call her? Cybernetic vampire?—she exists, she was placed there by both Impetus and Paradigm, two of the largest companies in the world, to—What did she say?—test how law enforcement deals with a threat?”

Nathen responded, “Yeah, and it makes a sort of sense from a purely logical perspective. Say you are creating something new, something the world has never seen before…” He paused for a moment, his mind going down a path of the many things he could imagine the world hadn’t seen before: supernatural creatures, AI, flying cars, aliens… Catching himself, Nathan went on. “And I can’t recall ever hearing of anything like what we saw. You would want to see what it can do, and how a society you are introducing it to can possibly respond, which the authorities did stereotypically, without much deviation from the norm. They treated it like a normal cyberattack, no real investigation, no pulling at strings to see what unraveled.”

“So, guys—” Syn rolled herself into a sitting position. “—I got so many questions. I mean, Nathen, how did you respond to Impetus? Your masters gotta know, right?”

“Syn!” Had she just called them that? Sure, Impetus had made Nathen into a vampire, but to call them his “Master” left a bad taste in Cameron’s mouth.

“Wha—?” She rolled her eyes.

“Technically that’s what they are. Or think they are. But they know either way what our part was. She would have told them we found out about her. So I told them the truth, or enough of the truth without telling them everything. HR seemed pleased, or at least I think he was pleased. He simply replied, ‘Good, thank you.’” Nathan tried to mimic HR’s mildly disturbing calm cadence and demeanor as he echoed his words. “He didn’t give me anything else. Said I will get a bonus and Agnus will contact me for my next task. I have until then to relax, I guess.”

Cameron bit back his anger. He had hated allowing Nathen to go into the office alone, but at the same time, they had all agreed it simply wasn’t safe for Cameron to go in with him. Not with them knowing he was a mage, a telepath, and having already notified him that they knew his true identity. It had been a tense hour until Nathen returned in one piece. “So, I know the two of you have planned on moving forward and have that hard drive we recovered decrypted. But…to what end? I mean, what is it going to prove? We already learned the companies are working together and why.”

“Oh, but did we?” Syn rested her elbows on her knees, hands outstretched. “Check this—we have one of Impetus’s vampires.” She gestured to Nathen. “We find out the companies are working together—Impetus with their vamps and Paradigm with their tech? But honestly, Cam, what’s their endgame?”

Nathen chimed in. “They do a lot for the general society, from medical research to robotics; maybe they think they are helping mankind. The news has not exactly been happy recently. Politics have been corrupted and abused to the point where a lot are at each other’s throats around the world. Maybe they plan to nudge us in a better direction? Any information on their inner workings could be helpful in understanding where they are headed.”

“Orrr,” Syn dragged out the word. “They might be bent on world domination, and this is just the first step in their nefarious plot, and only we could potentially help thwart them!”

A groan rumbled from him as Cameron flung himself into a chair, his feet landing on the edge of the table with a thud. How did he find a best friend who was so dark and a boyfriend who was so light? Yin and yang played out in front of him. Sitting around theorizing wasn’t going to get them anywhere. And besides, what would it hurt to let them figure out what was on the hard drive? It was probably more of the same they’d already learned. And that would be the end of it. “Fine, fine. Tomorrow, you guys get to learn more about these shadowy corporations, and tonight, I get to learn more about mages. Cool. Guess it’ll be a couple days of having some questions answered, huh?”

“That sounds about right; hopefully it is answers, and not more questions on top of an already huge pile,” Nathen interjected. He turned his attention to the television. “So what are we watching anyway?”

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Connal Braginsky is a software engineer who lives in San Diego, California. Diagnosed with high functioning autism, Connal sometimes struggles in social situations, but has an inner world that is always incredibly rich. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge about many esoteric things, Connal brings a lot of personal philosophies and interests to writing.

Sean Ian O’Meidhir is a psychologist who lives in San Francisco, California. Sean is a hedonist who believes in living for today, living every day to the fullest, and enjoying as much as possible. They have been gaming since adolescence and have written about and played hundreds of lives, revelling in the chance to take on new personalities, dramas, even disorders.

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Aug 22

Book Blitz: For Nate by Jessamyn St. Claire (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  For Nate

Author: Jessamyn St. Claire

Publisher: Amazon KDP

Release Date: 8-22-2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 73577

Genre: Romance, Thriller/Suspense, Gay Fiction, LGBTQIA+, M/M, Hurt/Comfort,

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Synopsis

College senior, Jacob Dawson, moved to California to rekindle a previous relationship from several years past. When he meets and befriends Nate, a beautiful man who hides all his pain and baggage behind a pair of oceanic blue eyes and exuberant smile, Jacob is dragged completely into his life. Just when things are going smoothly between them, a man from Nate’s past returns, a sadist who is hell-bent on mentally and emotionally breaking Nate once more. Jacob must do whatever it takes to save him, even if that means stepping out of his comfort zone and facing his ultimate fear to do so.

Excerpt

Chapter 1

He looks like California.

Jacob couldn’t help the wayward thought as he ogled the gorgeous young man behind him in line. The tall—a bit over six feet—lean-muscled guy had tawny skin for miles. His midlength hair held a blend of gold-and-copper lowlights, and his hooded eyes were the color of the ocean. Dressed in a fitted graphic tee, cargo shorts, and flip-flops, the guy resembled an actor on vacation. Except why would an actor be on vacation in Fresno?

The current object of his adoration looked him in the eye with a playful grin, showcasing perfect white teeth. Of course. Everything about him would be flawless. Jacob wondered what other parts of him were as out of this world.

“Excuse me, sir.”

As if snapped from a trance, Jacob turned toward the cashier who wore a pinched expression on her face as she held out his bag. His face grew hot. “Thanks,” he mumbled, snatching his food and shuffling toward the door.

On his way out, Mr. Perfect averted his gaze, one elegant hand on his mouth to cover a laugh.

Jacob cursed himself as he hurried out of Chipotle toward his car. How could he have gotten caught up pining for a complete stranger? He never did stuff like that. Jacob sighed into the mild breeze, absentmindedly stroking his throat. It’d been way too long since he’d last fooled around. Not since he’d moved to California four years ago. And he didn’t plan on going that route either, no matter the temptation.

“Hey.”

Jacob froze with his key halfway into the driver’s side door. He turned his head to the side to see the perfect blond rushing toward him. Jacob’s stomach fluttered. “What?”

“Sorry for staring back there. I got nostalgic seeing your hat.”

Jacob touched the bill of his Bulldogs cap, having forgotten he’d put the hat on today. “You like the Bulldogs?” he asked in a voice so low, he cringed.

“Oh yeah, I’m a huge fan. Fresno State was my alma mater. Are you a student there?”

Jacob didn’t respond. He set his bag and bottles inside his car.

“I’m Nate,” the guy continued. “Nathan, actually, but no one calls me that. What’s your name?”

“I’m late, so I need to get going.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nate’s shoulders dropped at Jacob’s rejection, yet he tried to hide his obvious disappointment behind a grin. “Well, hope you have a good day. Go Bulldogs.”

Jacob gave him a tight nod as he slid into the driver’s seat and started his car. Nate jogged back to the restaurant. When he disappeared inside, Jacob lowered his head onto the steering wheel. He didn’t know if he was doing the right thing or being a first-class idiot for turning away something like that.

Chipotle sat right in front of Fresno State, so it only took Jacob a moment to drive to the English department building. By the time he got to Professor Drake’s class, the older male had been surrounded by stacks of paper he’d printed out for grading purposes. Unloading his backpack, Jacob joined him at his desk and handed him the salad and water he’d bought. “Morning.”

Professor Drake flopped into his chair, regarding him with grateful blue-gray eyes.

It always amazed Jacob how young and handsome the English professor was. He had to be in his early thirties with short chestnut hair and deep-set eyes. Tall with distinct European features but a Mediterranean skin tone. No one had managed to guess what his family ancestry was. Jacob had been working for him as his teaching assistant for the better part of the school year, and he still hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask him. “You just get here?”

Professor Drake shook his head as he opened the bag. “I’ve been here since five. I printed all these out.”

“I see.” Jacob attained a red pen so he could relieve his boss. “How much have you gotten through already?”

Professor Drake pointed to the larger stack sitting to his right before taking out the salad, made the way he preferred with sofritas, guacamole, cheese, and a special honey vinaigrette Chipotle does so well. “Spring break is coming up. I overheard some of the students talking about making the trip to the beach. You’ll be joining them, won’t you?”

At the mention of the word “beach” Jacob couldn’t help but wince. “No way,” he said, the bitterness evident in his tone.

“Why not?”

Jacob avoided Professor Drake’s curious gaze, fidgeting with the pen in his hand. “I kinda have this thing with swimming. When I was a kid, I nearly drowned in the ocean, so I’ve never liked to swim.” He took a quick breath. “I don’t like to talk about the incident since it makes me want a cigarette.”

Professor Drake patted his shoulder before he took a bite of his salad. His expression held no mocking or revulsion, which Jacob was glad for. People always mocked him or laughed whenever he told them his fear of swimming. Or they said stupid stuff like, “Brah, we’re, like, in California. How can you not, like, swim in California??”

“Don’t do that.” Professor Drake’s deep, educated voice yanked him from his ruminations.

“I’m sorry?”

“Smoking. It’s a disgusting habit that ruins lives.”

Jacob tilted his head to the side. It sounded like he spoke from personal experience. “You weren’t a smoker, were you?”

“No, but my father was. He died of lung cancer.”

“Sorry to hear.”

Professor Drake didn’t respond, but Jacob didn’t miss the subtle tightening around his eyes and the tic in his jaw. Awkwardness filled the room. Jacob drummed his fingers across the paper he’d yet to look at. “So, what plans do you have for spring break, Professor?”

Professor Drake’s face softened. He appeared so much more handsome like that. “I think I’ll spend more time with my dog. Take him somewhere nice.”

“You have a dog? I didn’t know that.”

“Two of them.” He smirked. “Though one refuses to acknowledge me as his master. He’s not housebroken yet.”

“How long have you had him?”

“About a year now.”

“A whole year?” Jacob clamped his lips shut, trying to hide the embarrassment on behalf of Professor Drake, but the taunting grin made its way up his face anyway.

Professor Drake gave him a blank stare. “Is that funny to you?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just, if it hasn’t happened by now, it probably won’t ever.”

“I’m afraid of that.” Professor Drake shoved the coated leafy greens into his full, perfect mouth.

Unwittingly, Jacob focused his gaze elsewhere as he thought about Nate. He had perfect full lips too. “Well, I know how that feels. I have two orange tabbies, Ross and Bagel. In my house, they’re the masters, and my parents and I are their willing slaves.”

The corner of Professor Drake’s lips turned up. “Ross and Bagel?”

“I didn’t name them, trust me.”

“Well, since you’re not home, I suppose I can take Ross’s and Bagel’s place and order you to get to work.”

Jacob gave him a sheepish grin as he pulled the stack of papers closer to him. “Yes, sir.”

***

Nate couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his face.

Earlier, upon noting his cheerier-than-usual attitude, his coworkers had played twenty-one questions, trying to figure out the why and possibly the who. Yet Nate remained mum all day.

It wasn’t anybody’s business, and besides, he didn’t need to come off like a sap, gushing over the fact some complete stranger—albeit a cute one—had stared at him in line at Chipotle.

Nate’s ears grew hot at the memory. It’d been so embarrassing at first. Stuff like that never happened to him.

Of course, he got catcalls all the time. From women. No guy ever gawked at him the way the college kid had. If they did, it amounted to nothing more than a subtle once-over before going about their way or trying to hook up.

There was something endearing about the kid finding him so attractive that he’d forgotten everything around him. It certainly wasn’t a blow to the ego either.

At any rate, Nate was ready to burst by the time he parked his car in the lot of the 1920s-style bungalow he called home.

KFC bag in hand, Nate opened the back door and skipped to the third bedroom, aka his best friend’s “office.” All the lights were off, the rooms quiet except for the muted heavy metal and serious moaning that grew louder the closer Nate got to the door. He leaned against the doorframe and knocked. “Kai, I’m home. I bought dinner.”

“Just a second,” came the strained, accented response.

Nate shook his head, pretending not to listen to his best friend’s loud moans. When everything went quiet several heartbeats later, Nate mumbled, “Finally.”

The door cracked open, and Kai stepped out, dressed only in black track pants, his pale skin flushed. Bits of damp black hair clung to his pierced face. Despite his smeared guyliner, Kai’s Euro-Asian features and dark-gray slanted eyes were beautiful. He gave Nate a questioning look while folding his arms across his lean-muscled chest.

“I’m home,” Nate repeated.

“Welcome home.”

“I bought dinner.” He held up the large KFC bag for Kai to see.

“Oh.”

“Let’s watch a movie together while we eat.”

“Let me grab a shirt.”

As Kai disappeared into his office, Nate headed for the living room, turning on the lights as he went. He hated the house being too dark. After hooking up the DVD player, Nate put on <em>The Green Hornet</em>, one of his favorite action/comedy movies. He’d set out the food and hit Play when Kai joined him, dressed and lighting a cigarette.

The pungent scent of mint and smoke filled the space as he exhaled a deep breath. “You’re in a good mood.”

Nate scooted over on the spotless white sofa so Kai would sit beside him. He bit down on a grin, trying not to let his exuberance show, but his face hurt with the effort. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took a huge bite of the crispy chicken breast.

“You’re dying of laughter on the inside. I can see it.”

Nate snorted. “Sure, you can.”

“Talk before I make you.”

“You know, it’s hard to take your threat seriously with that British accent of yours.” Nate shook his head with disbelief. After all these years, Kai still retained his native accent and speech. He found it badass most of the time, but there were times when Nate wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. “You sound like a villain in a James Bond movie.”

“First of all, it’s an English accent.” Without warning, Kai flicked cigarette ashes onto Nate’s hand.

Nate hissed and dropped his chicken onto the dark wooden coffee table. “Son of a—”

“Second, you met someone, didn’t you?”

The rising anger faded away as Nate ruminated about the guy from earlier. In his oversized sweats and hat, most people would have considered him unremarkable. Not Nate. With his big, light-brown eyes and youthful face, Nate thought of him as pretty damn adorable. Not to mention, he blushed well, a plus in his book. A slow smile crept along his face. “I met a guy this morning.”

“Go on.” Kai stubbed out his cig to pile a plate with chicken and mashed potatoes.

“So, this guy was standing in front of me in line, right? And for some reason, he happened to look back. That’s when he noticed me. He just kept staring, mouth wide open, barely blinking. So frickin’ cute, dude. I felt bad for him cause people were looking and laughing, and the cashier got pissed.”

“Did he say something?”

Nate shook his head. “He was so embarrassed, he grabbed his food and left in a hurry. But I followed him.”

Kai stopped midbite and arched a pierced brow at him. “You did? That’s not usually your MO.”

Nate shrugged and averted his gaze, taking a bite out of a buttery biscuit. He didn’t have a clue what compelled him to go after the guy like he did either. He never chased guys. Especially given his past with men. “He seemed like a pretty cool kid. He’s a student at Fresno State and was repping the Bulldogs. Plus, he likes Chipotle, which is a huge deal. I mean, it’s Chipotle.”

“I can’t believe you chatted up someone,” Kai mumbled. “When do you plan on seeing him again?”

“I didn’t get his number. He looked really busy.”

“Did you at least get his name?”

Nate shook his head before biting into the chicken. “He was in a hurry.”

Kai regarded him a moment, no telling what went on in his skull. Sitting there under his analytical scrutiny made Nate restless. “What?”

“Thinking it’s just as well that you didn’t. You would have pushed him away like the others.”

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Meet the Author

Jessamyn St. Claire is an up-and-coming author of gay fiction who loves to explore dark and psychological themes in her stories. She lives with her family in the South, and is currently on a journey to becoming a bestseller.

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Aug 18

Book Blitz: Rhyme of Love by Emily Carrington (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Rhyme of Love

Series: Jack and Gil 3

Author: Emily Carrington

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: August 18, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 189 pages

Genre: Romance, Thriller/Suspense, Dark Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, Action Adventure, Gay, Shapeshifters, Multicultural & Interracial, Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures

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Synopsis

Gil struggles to hide his loss of status from Jack, but when he finally confesses, Jack turns around and blurts out his own secret. Who can Gil trust now?

Jack knows he screwed up but he believes in honesty above everything else. Well, almost. Running the risk of losing Gil, Jack must learn to lie convincingly or he’ll lose SearchLight, his life, and Gil, as well.

Excerpt

Around about ten that morning, Jack’s lover had turned on cello music. Not just classical cello, although there was some of that too, but also cellos playing contemporary songs. The rich, melodic lines were very quiet, but Jack still cued into them as he rested in Gil’s arms.

They’d made love most of the night and into the morning. It was time to rise, shower, and get this new day started. He’d barely slept two hours in the last twenty-four, but Jack refused to shirk his duties no matter how tired he felt.

On the other hand, it was extremely relaxing to lie here, in Gil’s bed, with Gil’s arms surrounding him. He could smell the aroma they’d made together, and he loved it. He felt so very content and safe here.

He’d almost lost Gil. Not to danger but to jealousy and misunderstanding. <em>That isn’t meant to be</em>, Jack thought defiantly. Gil is mine.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of Gil’s scent, which was part arousal and part sweat. They needed to rise but Jack couldn’t make his body obey his mind. He sighed contentedly and opened his eyes, gazing at his lover.

Gil rubbed his arm with one dark, broad palm. “Are you awake?” he murmured.

Jack smiled, pushed himself forward, and kissed Gil lightly. When the basilisk tried to deepen the kiss, though, he pulled away. “Time to get up.”

Gil hugged him closer but when Jack still resisted, he grunted, nodded, and let Jack go. Naked, Jack got up and strode to the door of the bathroom. He’d been in here twice, in the middle of the night, to use the facilities, but the lights had been off and he’d been distracted. Now, flicking the light switch, he took in the wondrously huge, almost echoing chamber that held bathtub, shower, toilet, two sinks, and a lounging pool that Jack assumed was for Gil’s nine-feet-long basilisk form.

A moment’s insecurity flashed in his hind brain. Gil was powerful, rich, the ruler, or almost, of an entire country. And what was Jack? A Night Wanderer. A newly changed Night Wanderer who couldn’t always control his shifted form of a Kodiak bear.

Screw that, he thought rebelliously. I will not lose Gil again because of my own feelings of inadequacy. I’m the head of Public Relations, the highest position in SearchLight except for the Founders, and I get final say on everything.

The Founders, the sons of Lady Weinberg, formerly Agent Weinberg, kept their hands largely out of SearchLight’s day-to-day operations. They hadn’t even weighed in when Jack decided to announce and involve all of SearchLight and the heads of most of the magical communities around the world in a discussion of suspicious disappearances.

So, even though he wasn’t a Crown Prince, one miniscule step below ruler of all the world’s basilisks, he and Gil were equals. At least he thought they were.

But this bathroom was spectacular. Extravagant. And Jack felt a little embarrassed about his nudity in such a place. The bed creaked behind him and Gil crossed to him. Jack didn’t want his lover to see the nerves he wasn’t quite sure he could keep out of his expression.

Gil closed his hands on Jack’s shoulders and began to massage. Jack relaxed almost at once as the feeling and scent of his beloved surrounded him.

“Are you all right?” Gil murmured.

“I am now.” Jack glanced over his shoulder, flashed Gil a grin, and pulled away. “Shower or bathtub?”

“Together?” Gil suggested.

“Separately, or we’ll never get out of here.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” But he was teasing because he said at once, “I’ll take the wading pool. I suggest you take the shower stall.”

Jack nodded, padded to the aforementioned, grandiose, glass-walled luxury and busied himself testing the water. There was a towel hung conveniently just outside on a heated rack. He listened to Gil turning on the water in the wading pool. His lover was muttering, “Now, how does she get it to just that right temperature?” That made Jack smile a little. Gil wasn’t used to doing for himself, but he wasn’t a complainer either. He was just a little lost.

As Jack was.

He shrugged off that thought and glanced over his shoulder to check and make sure Gil was all right. But his lover had changed into his magnificent basilisk form, which was nine feet of powerfully built, Komodo-dragon-like scales and girth. Nine feet long from flicking tongue to muscular tail, Gil was glorious.

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Changeling Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes | Smashwords

Meet the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.

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Aug 15

New Release Blitz: Witch by Mell Eight (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Witch

Series: Witch’s Circle, Book Three

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/15/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 32500

Genre: Paranormal, Paranormal, magic, witches, warlock, shifters, vampires, werewolves, hunters, cat familiars, MMMM

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Description

Kana spent his life hiding from those who might take advantage of his power. Now that he’s living with his lover, werewolf Alpha Ember, hiding is impossible. However, living in the open means accepting the inherent risks. Kana hopes he and Ember together are strong enough to survive whatever might come. Then a new witch moves to town.

Dealing with the witch should be the most important thing for Kana, the pack, and their allies, but something else is lurking in the shadows—something dark, and evil, whose only goal is to destroy everything Kana holds dear.

Excerpt

Witch
Mell Eight © 2023
All Rights Reserved

“Magic is about precision, Kana,” Dad said, his voice firm, but understanding. He gently repositioned Kana’s hand around the chalk. “Now, hold it steady, but not too tight. Pivot with your feet and keep a stiff elbow. Now place the chalk to the floor and spin.”

Kana spun, the chalk scraping along the smooth floor as he tried to keep his arm completely still and allow his momentum to direct the chalk. When he finished a complete turn and the two lines of the circle intersected exactly, Kana pulled the chalk back and grinned up at Dad.

“Very good!” Dad crowed. “Look how exact this circle is compared to the one you drew before.”

Kana stood to look. Where the previous circle was a wiggling wave that suddenly arced to force the two ends to meet, his new circle was almost perfect. A few bits were still slightly skewed, but overall, it was a circle whereas the old one was more of an awkward oval.

“Practice makes perfect, though,” Dad continued. “You need to draw at least ten circles a day, until it becomes second nature. An imperfect circle will lead to an imperfect spell, and an imperfect spell can be very dangerous.”

Kana nodded. Dad was right. Kana’s wobbly circles were harder to call magic into, and the results didn’t always match what he wanted the spell to do. If Dad said Kana needed to write ten circles a day, Kana knew he ought to instead do twenty. He had to perfect his spell circles so the coven and his mother would accept him as a witch.

“Dad?” Kana asked, reminded of a question that had been bothering him since Dad began this lesson. “Momma’s the witch in the family. You don’t have any magic, so how come you know so much?”

Dad’s smile was a little sad as he patted Kana on the shoulder. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell it to you when you’re older. Now, why don’t you draw your ten circles for today, and then we can go out for ice cream?”

Ice cream? Kana grinned and hurried to a clean spot on the floor. Ten good circles in return for some ice cream was a great bargain! He put chalk to the floor and got to work.

*

Four years later, when Kana was thirteen, Atlantea, one of the head witches on the coven council, pulled him out of class. His parents’ car had been found at the bottom of a ravine, their bodies still inside. Her arms were warm and comforting as Kana cried, but it was also the only time he could remember her ever being nice to him. Certainly after the funeral her cold attitude toward him returned.

Kana quickly learned the magic lessons his dad had been giving him were lessons he should have been receiving from the coven, but they had refused to include him. He was a male witch and therefore not worth the coven’s time, according to them. Why and how his dad had been able to provide those lessons instead, Kana never learned, but he was grateful for every one as he fought his way into the high school’s magic classes.

Thoughts of his dad soon faded, however, beaten down under the onslaught of the coven’s vitriol, but Kana knew someday he would be free of the coven. Someday, all the magic lessons he had been hoarding would be of use, and until then he would continue to perfect his spells through constant practice and repetition.

And then, once he was eighteen, Kana had forced them to allow him to cast the spell to call his familiars. He had run away right after that, tired of the coven’s mistreatment and knowing it would only increase after he walked out of the testing room with two cat familiars—cats being the strongest familiars, and Kana had received two of them. His only choice was to leave, so Kana had run as far and as fast as he could.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!

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Aug 08

New Release Blitz: Follow Spot by Brenda Murphy (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Follow Spot

Author: Brenda Murphy

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/08/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female, Female/Female Menage

Length: 64500

Genre: Contemporary, Romance, contemporary, BDSM, thriller, dominant, submissive, interracial, over 40, menage/multiple partners, sex work

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Description

Celebrity lookalike escort Astrid Lepler is tired of running. When an old friend invites her to apply for a role at Rowan House, she travels to Scotland to show off her skills as a purveyor of fantasy and in-demand Mistress in hopes of securing a position.

Long time Rowan House employee Benita Azevedo would do anything for Tessa Morgan, the woman who warms her bed and fills her soul like no other, even if she has to shatter her heart to secure Tessa’s happiness.

Tessa has worked hard to put her past behind her and make a place for herself at Rowan House. Respected by her peers, desired by clients, surrounded by friends with all the benefits, she has everything she has ever wanted.

It all comes crashing down when Astrid arrives at Rowan House. Faced with their undeniable attraction to each other, Tessa and Astrid rekindle their past romance. When the Widow threatens to end Astrid and Rowan House for good, it will take everything Tessa and Astrid have to save Rowan House and keep their love alive, but will it be enough?

Excerpt

Follow Spot
Brenda Murphy © 2023
All Rights Reserved

“Do you think this is too much?” Tessa tugged her MacLeod tartan bow tie into a tight knot and met Benita’s gaze in the mirror.

“For what? You’re picking her up from the ferry, not taking her to a ball.” Benita smoothed her hands over Tessa’s shoulders and pressed a quick kiss under her ear. “Besides, you look adorable. Good enough to eat.” Benita waggled her eyebrows.

Tessa turned to face her. She leaned her head against Benita’s brow and absorbed her confident tone and love like a sponge. “Thank you.”

Benita stepped back. “Now go. Or Millie will leave your ass standing in the driveway.”

“Oh hell.” Tessa snatched her suit coat off the bed on her way out of the door. She stormed the steps, the clatter of her shoes echoing in the stairwell. She pushed through the kitchen door and skidded to a stop. Robin and Myfanwy turned to look at her. “Millie’s gone?”

“Calm down, love, she’s in the washroom.” Myfanwy crossed the room. She inclined her head toward two picnic baskets and two thermos bottles on the table. “The black thermos and small basket is for Mistress Lepler, the other is for you two. Since you missed breakfast.” Myfanwy raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry.” Tessa’s mouth watered as the scent of warm chocolate laced with the faint tang of orange rose from the baskets. “And thank you.”

Myfanwy frowned. “You all right?”

“Fine. I’m fine. Just nervous.”

Myfanwy lifted her chin. “She’s a Mistress—act accordingly and you’ll be right.”

“Aye, and she’ll be an angry Mistress if we’re late picking her up.” Millie’s voice boomed in the kitchen. She picked up the picnic baskets. “Get the flasks, Tessa.” Millie kissed Myfanwy on the cheek. “I’ll text if we’ll be late.”

“Don’t be. Elaine is on a tear. She wants everything perfect for Mistress Petra’s friend.”

Millie strode out of the kitchen. “When is she not? You heard her, Tessa, ass in gear unless you want to explain to Elaine why we were late.”

Tessa picked up the two thermos bottles and bolted out of the door after Millie.

The gravel crunched under their feet on the way to the garage. Tessa hurried to catch up to Millie’s long strides.

In the garage, Tessa waited while Millie placed the smaller picnic basket on the backseat.

“Put the flask next to it and wedge it so it won’t roll around.” Millie shrugged out of her suit coat.

Tessa placed the black flask next to the smaller basket before opening her door. She passed Millie the other basket and flask of tea.

“Take your jacket off or you’ll look the devil when we get there.”

Tessa shed her suit coat before she entered the car and laid it over the seat next to Millie’s. The leather seat was cool through her shirt, and she shivered. She clenched her fists to stop her hands from trembling.

“The seats will warm up quick once we’re rolling.” Millie turned the key, and the low rumble of the engine filled the car. “Take a breath. We’re not late.” Millie backed the car out of the garage and made the turn out onto the drive. “Did you sleep?”

“Some.”

“You going to tell me why you’re so skittish?” Millie piloted the car down the lane leading away from Rowan House.

Tessa chewed her lip. A storm of emotions squeezed her heart as a swirling montage of images blinded her to the scenery rushing past the car. She picked at the seam of her trousers. The dull ache of a headache eddied behind her eyes. This was a mistake.

“Tessa?” Millie’s gentle prompt broke into Tessa’s spiraling thoughts.

“I haven’t been honest with the Mistresses. I worked with—I mean for Mistress Lepler. I’m an idiot for not telling them.”

“I won’t have you talking badly about yourself, but Tessa, why the devil didn’t you say something before?”

Tessa shifted her gaze to Millie’s profile. “I didn’t want the Mistresses to deny my request to work with her.”

Millie shot Tessa a quick glance before she returned her eyes to the road. “Were you pledged to her?”

“No.” Tessa rolled the crease of her trousers between her fingers. “Nothing like that.” She turned toward the window. “I worked for her for three years, before she let me go and ghosted.”

Millie reached over and squeezed Tessa’s knee. “Mistresses can be a capricious lot.”

“I should’ve told the Mistresses. Elaine knew about Mistress Griffin when she asked me to apply to Rowan House, but I left previous work off my resume.” Tessa rubbed the ache in her stomach. “And then I saw the photo on her application. And I should have told them everything, but I didn’t.” She rocked in her seat. “What if she’s angry?”

“Not that Elaine needs a reason, but I can’t see her being angry over this. Well, not more than usual. She’s settled a bit since she and Robin convinced Petra to pledge to them.”

“I meant Mistress Astrid.”

“What does that matter? You’re not her property. You’re pledged to Rowan House. And I’ll be happy to remind her of it if she forgets.” Millie glanced at Tessa before turning back to the road. “She may be auditioning but she doesn’t have full privileges.”

Millie’s firm tone soothed Tessa’s nerves. She wasn’t alone. Her Rowan House family would always be there. She was loved. For who she was, quirks and all. She laid her hand on Millie’s forearm and squeezed gently. “Thank you. She wasn’t that kind of Mistress. She was more like Mistress Lucia, quiet, but you obeyed.”

“But she abandoned you without explanation? What kind of Mistress does that?” The car shifted sideways as Millie dodged a pothole.

“We didn’t have a contract.” Tessa shifted in the seat. “But we were—we had a—well, I don’t know what you’d call it. At least I thought we had something. But not enough of something for her to keep me, I guess.” Tessa hated the uncertainty in her voice. She rolled her shoulders, stiffened her spine. She wasn’t a wide-eyed, giddy twenty-year old anymore. “And whatever it was, I need to talk to her outside of Rowan House. I don’t want her to feel like she was tricked into something or that I’m going to sabotage her audition.”

“Well, anyone who’d walk out on you is a complete idiot. Get yourself some tea and something to eat. Everything will look better on the other side of a chocolate orange muffin and Two Steps From Hell.” Millie grinned and pressed a button on the steering wheel.

The rich orchestral sounds of “Tokyo Showdown Mania” boomed from the speakers as Tessa unwrapped her still warm muffin. “I swear I’d have pledged to Rowan House just for these muffins.” Millie’s booming laugh filled the car as Tessa settled back into her seat.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Brenda Murphy (she/her) writes erotic romance. Her most recent novel, Double Six, is the 2020 Golden Crown Literary Society winner for Erotic Novels, and Knotted Legacy, the third book in the Rowan House series, made the 2018 The Lesbian Review’s Top 100 Vacation Reads list. You can catch her musings on writing, books, and living with wicked ADHD on her blog Writing While Distracted. She loves sideshows and tattoos and yes, those are her monkeys. When she is not loitering at her local library, she wrangles twins, one dog, and an unrepentant parrot.

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. For a free short story, information on book signings, appearances, work in progress snippets, previews and sneak-peeks, sign up for my email list

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Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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