Aug 05

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

Title:  Egregious

Author: J. Hali Steele

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: August 5, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 89 pages

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

Synopsis

Liam Lamech buried Valerian, the vampire he recognized as his mate, next to Hell’s Gate nearly two thousand years ago. When the vampire king frees the vile creature, Liam determines not to give in to the strongest emotion a vampire can experience — the pull of an eternal mate. Liam can’t kill Valerian, yet he vows never to love him. Still, he’ll protect the undead man with his own life.

Valerian detests the memory of his days as a Roman emperor, though not nearly as much as he hates Liam, the vampire God chose as his mate. Aware they were meant to spend eternity together, the monster buried Val so close to Satan that a piece of his soul still burns. Even though Liam is one of the vampire king’s most revered warriors, Valerian vows to make the bastard pay!

Excerpt

Egregious (Sanguine Blood Seekers 5)
J. Hali Steele
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 J. Hali Steele

Liam Lamech found himself in an impossible situation. He despised his mate, a malicious fiend who, as a Roman emperor, was responsible for slaying a multitude of Christians.

The vampire who filled Liam’s mind during every waking moment had been created by one whose blood would burn stronger than Liam’s, had he not regularly received blood from Sten Majkovic, the vampire king, and the most supreme undead creature inhabiting God’s world.

Liam had believed Sten truly liked and respected him until the king unearthed the body of Publius Licinius Valerianus, known by the vampire world as Valerian and now as Liam’s mate.

All those centuries ago Liam strongly suspected his connection to Valerian. The pull of the eternal bond was so intense Liam would not even take the vile brute’s blood before he entombed him in a hole deep enough that if he reached out, he could touch Satan’s face. Liam prayed the devil would hold the evil bastard prisoner forever.

Liam only knew of one other vampire who had resisted the phenomenal attraction to his own mate all those eons ago. Kamose, a seventeenth dynasty pharaoh, had somehow managed to live thousands of years with knowledge his mate still lived.

Shit, Kam survived without his mate because, as did Liam, he carried strong blood in his veins. Couple that with the fact that he searched out and screwed the saint every chance he could unless the holy man had gone to ground.

Now all vamps sought the only being they would forgive any sin — their mate. That one, human or undead, who completed them, who would walk at their side forever.

Valerian was not that vampire. He couldn’t be. “I will never forgive him,” Liam swore. “And I don’t want a mate! God, please tell me, show me, Valerian can’t be the one.” Liam stormed back and forth in such fury, he wore a path in the jewel-toned carpet that stretched the width and length of his living room. Liam didn’t even have the luxury of talking to his king as Sten, claiming back pain, had safeguarded his home from everyone except Joshua. Not even Sten’s favored warrior’s lover could gain entrance to what had now become a fortress.

“Backache my ass.” Vampires didn’t entertain bodily aches unless another, far superior, snatched their heart out. Depending on age and ability, both could die from such an act as no vamp was permitted to destroy another of their kind unless the execution was ordered by Sten — and still, there were dire consequences. After all that Liam had undertaken for his king, he now viewed Sten as an ungrateful reprobate.

Creeping around his own mind got Liam nowhere. May as well do what he’d done for thousands of years to stave off loneliness and… sorrow. Where the hell had that word sprung from? Liam suffered no woes over the past and what he’d done in God’s name. Saturated with anger, he felt as if his life — or rather, his undead existence, was falling apart. Underground, the club in King of Prussia, a suburb of Philadelphia, was full of voyeurs willing to take him or watch him be had by someone he prayed would savagely use him tonight. A visit to the exclusive sex venue would settle Liam’s thoughts as well as ease tension that rose each time the sun crested the horizon.

What enraged Liam’s soul most was that God had permitted Valerian, the sacrilegious piece of shit, to live. “Me. I performed that feat.” The thought paraded through Liam’s mind. I allowed Valerian to live. “Why did I supply him with enough of Kenan’s blood to keep him thriving in that hole?”

And where was his king? Liam had been without Sten’s blood for a longer period than usual. That loss infuriated Liam, and although he’d drained blood from a heart laced with Valerian’s blood, he still had trouble tracking the murderous asshole.

Dissolving into nothing, Liam slipped into Underground unnoticed by human eyes. The smell of men and sex relieved his tension briefly, until he heard a voice he recognized all too well.

“Son of a bitch!”

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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Aug 01

New Release Blitz: The Plan by Penny McLean (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  The Plan

Series: Flavors of the Month, Book One

Author: Penny McLean

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/01/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Female, Female/Female

Length: 60900

Genre: Contemporary, Contemporary, romance, humorous, bisexual, multiple partners, blog, ice cream, scientist, doctor

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Description

Cynthia Blake has it all. Almost.

As a successful businesswoman who owns a chain of ice cream shops in Scottsdale, Arizona, she knows life couldn’t be much sweeter. But when a drunken birthday realization turns into the plan of a lifetime, Cynthia announces she’ll date one man a month for the next year and marry one of them at the end of it all. In this introductory book to the Flavors of the Month series, Cynthia quickly learns just how complicated life and love can get. Has the perfect flavor been in front of her all along?

Excerpt

The Plan
Penny McLean © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
December 26

Drunk and full of birthday cake: the best way to make life-altering decisions. That’s my new motto. It’s taken me thirty-one years to come to this realization, but all my best ideas have come this way. Probably. I don’t actually have the data to back that up.

“Hey, Cyn,” Kim laughs as she plunks a dollop of frosting on my nose. “Weren’t you supposed to be married with three kids by now? Wasn’t that The Plan?”

The emphasis on the last word is like a knife in my ovary. Sixteen-year-old me had been a bit cocky when she showed up at lunch one day and dropped a manifesto on the table for my two best friends to see. Simply titled The Plan, it outlined what I was going to do with my life and when I would do it by. This wasn’t some whim. I’d really thought this shit out.

And to be fair, I hit almost every goal in The Plan on time or ahead of schedule. Am I the owner of a successful chain of ice cream parlors? Yup. In fact, there are currently eleven Sinfully Good locations throughout the Valley (Phoenix, that is) and Southern California. Do I own my own condo in Scottsdale and a vacation home in San Diego? Yes and yes. Am I married to the love of my life and somehow still skinny after having three of his children?

Well, I’m still skinny. Which really comes in handy for those rare getaways to the beach house. Speaking of which. Mental note—must make time to get back to beach house.

It turns out achieving the career parts of The Plan kept me a little busier than I thought it would, and no guy was ever able to keep up. There were contenders along the way and a few times when I thought I might have it all, but then the economy tanked and it took every ounce of business savvy in my five-foot-eight-inch frame to stay afloat. Lucky for me, people going through a recession tend to eat their emotions, and my flavors are incredibly soothing.

So, there I sit, hyperventilating as I try to blow out all those candles and realizing Kim has a point. In my uber-focused career path, I have completely let my love life fall to pieces. A few (read: five) celebratory shots of Fireball later, a new plan comes to mind.

“Well, for starters, I’m going to stop sleeping with Carter,” I announce.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” says Meg, who has a right to be skeptical.

For the past three years, I’ve enjoyed a friends-with-benefits arrangement with a guy I met at the gym. I blame that Justin Timberlake movie, but it really has been beneficial for us both. We’ve managed to keep things casual while he gets through med school and I conquer the world of dairy deliciousness. He’s even one of my most trusted tasters for new flavors, but that’s mostly because he likes the way the ice cream tastes on my…

Well, anyway, it doesn’t matter what he eats the ice cream off, because it’s going to stop. Tomorrow. I mean, a girl needs birthday sex, right? Carter was on call last night, but he said he wants to stop by tonight to say hi and, as he put it, “let me blow out one more candle.” I’ll have to remind him the birthday girl shouldn’t be required to give a blow job, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

So, yes, no more sleeping with Carter. That’s obviously got to happen. The rest of the Plan still seems a bit crazy to me, but Meg and Kim seem to think it’s brilliant. Let’s see how it feels without a Fireball-induced fog.

I will date one man each month next year, starting in January.
That gives me five days to find someone on either a dating website or the old-fashioned-in-person way. Shouldn’t be too hard once I tell them it has to end after thirty days. Although I probably shouldn’t tell them about the next stipulation.

2. I will marry one of the twelve men.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Penny McLean is a careerwoman by day, writer by night, mother at all times to three incredible children, and wife to a loving husband. Born in San Diego, California, she now hails from Gilbert, Arizona where she especially enjoys giving back to her community by volunteering at schools and libraries, with Girl Scouts, and for any causes that benefit marginalized communities, especially LGBTQIA+ youth. She began her career as a writer at the age of 17 when she was hired to cover movies, arts, and features for a youth-oriented page in the Arizona Republic. With twenty years of writing experience for magazines, newspapers, social media, and more, she is thrilled to have her first novel out in the world.

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Jul 30

Book Blitz: Dragon Stones by Stephanie Burke (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Dragon Stones

Author: Stephanie Burke

Narrator:isher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: July 28, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 167 pages

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Thriller/Suspense, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Urban Fantasy, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay, Magic, Sorcery, and Witchcraft, Multicultural & Interracial, Sex/Gender Shifters & MPreg, Shapeshifters

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Synopsis

His Shining Majesty, King of the Dhrovish Throne, has one son, the Silver Prince Vulwin Valas, who is a prince, a strategist, a warrior, and a… model?

Dragon Stone: In the human world, Prince Vulwin Valas is known as Win Arcarius, openly gay, very promiscuous, and one of the most highly sought after models ever. To the Fae Realms, he is known as the Silver Shadow, the King’s assassin, and someone not to be crossed. A routine visit home suddenly becomes more complicated, and Vulwin finds himself with a new mate, a new enemy, and a future he never considered before with… a dragon.

Dragon Alliance: Iffear comes to Vulwin at his most vulnerable, but as their magical enemies and a plot to destroy the Dhrovish throne make themselves known, the newly mated couple find themselves drawing closer together in order to survive.

Dragon Heart: Vulwin and Iffear know who was responsible for the attempts on their lives. Now they need to discover why. Seeking revenge could shatter the tentative peace and reignite the war between two Fae factions, but blood spilled in hate demands justice. How far will they go to fulfill a blood oath and see the Dragon Stones laid to rest?

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Stephanie Burke
Excerpt from Dragon Stone

Vulwin would have never noticed the male if it hadn’t been for the cat.

Really, in this age of mass hysteria about the agents of evil, who was brave enough to walk around with a cat in tow? And not only that, the cat was huge, black, and definitely noticeable.

The second thing he noticed was the chains around the male’s wrists, waist, and neck — rather his corded waist, very thick wrists, and a neck that was exposed due to his lack of hair.

He didn’t have a chance to contemplate this event further because his king, with a boding voice, bade him approach. He entered the audience chamber and ignored the massive set of silver doors that slammed shut behind him.

“I see you have returned to us from the realm of man.” The king eyed him from the top of his tousled hair to his bare feet. “Unscathed?”

Vulwin nodded, standing tall before his king. “That I have, Your Shining Majesty.” Vulwin wanted to smirk at the man, indeed he did, but common sense prevailed and he contained his amusement at this old familiar back and forth.

“Strip.” The order was given negligently as the king turned to speak to one of his many advisors.

Vulwin looked around the chamber. Some things never changed. His king’s pet crows still perched along the rafters of the dimly lit room. A mixture of candles and old fashioned gas lights gave the whole chamber a yellow tinge, while burning incense took away that odd smell that filled the chambers because of the gas lights.

This audience chamber was dominated by the huge circular throne platform. It stretched along the back wall, its concave design dominating the small room. In the center sat the highest chair, the throne of the king, draped in furs and embroidered silks given as tribute from faraway lands. On either side of the throne sat two chairs, one for each of His Majesty’s advisors who helped him maintain peace and order in the realms.

Knowing that he would be ignored until he complied, Vulwin let go of the human glamour he wore, his long, pale gold hair disappearing with a subtle flow of light, lengthening until it became the knee-length silvery white that helped lend him his second name, Valas — silver in the old tongue.

As the light passed over his body, it took along with it his human skin tone — the pale gold that humans called albino and that his human manager found attractive — and in its place his natural skin bled through.

Valas was proud of his skin tone, black as the starry night with a tracery of brilliant stars that gleamed when the light hit it just so. Others called his complexion speckled, the mark of a blessed child, and with his easy life he tended to agree with those old tales. No one else in the realm had skin like his and he was proud to show it off, a little miffed that his current assignment had him hiding it from prying eyes, but content to be smug about it when he was summoned to make his periodic trips home.

Removing the glamour was but the first step. With a wave of earth magic, he conjured from the floor a low table that sprouted forth like a small tree. It grew to about waist height and then Vulwin began to carefully remove the jewelry that adorned his body, starting with the delicate chains and hoops of gold that swung daintily from his long, pointed ears.

Unlike other Fae, the Dhrovish could be identified in an instant from the long, arching ears that rose up majestically from the sides of their heads. It was a point of pride to sport the most perfectly arched ears and the Dhrovish adorned them properly to show off their shape. He knew that Elvhenkind often looked down upon the Dhrovish for their midnight complexions and their large, ungainly ears, but he thought they were overcompensating for their lack by harping on the subject. Besides, a good, large set of ears generally meant that the Dhrow was sporting something thick and meaty between his thighs.

Oh yes, Vulwin Valas had a massive set of ears.

The necklaces of gold followed and the many rings that adorned his fingers and toes were removed next. Then the human clothing was carefully pulled off and folded, the long tunic of black silk, the loose fitting pants, and the anklets with their tiny bells.

He wore no underpants — he couldn’t get used to that human concession — so he stood there naked save for the thick swirl of ornate gold rings that encircled the base of his cock, his chastity device.

He stepped back from the conjured table and turned his gaze to his king…

Purchase

Changeling Press LLC | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

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Jul 25

Book Blitz: The London Chance by Lane Hayes (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  The London Chance

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: July 25, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 27,500

Genre: Romance, Romantic Comedy, Bisexual Romance, Gay Romance, Humor, Contemporary Romance

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Synopsis

Two strangers, an online dating app, and a chance at forever…

Chance

After months of online correspondence with a sexy businessman, we’re finally meeting in person—in London, no less!

Okay. It’s a casual meet-up. Nothing to get excited about. I fully understand that online connections don’t always translate in person. Roman could be pompous or worse…boring.

Wish me luck!

Roman

Dinner with my online “friend” doesn’t go well. I shouldn’t be disappointed. That’s life.

But just as I’m ready to write our peculiar acquaintanceship off, Chance turns up unexpectedly at a karaoke bar. Don’t ask what I’m doing there. I have no idea. However, I don’t mind at all. It feels like the universe is giving us a cosmic redo. Sure, Chance lives in California and my home is in the UK now, but this feels like the real thing. Something worth taking a chance on.

A forever chance.

The London Chance is an MM, bisexual romance featuring an American, a Canadian, a dating app, and an unexpected HEA.

Excerpt

“What time is it?” I grumbled, rubbing my stubbled jaw.

“Half one,” a deep, rumbly voice replied.

I spun on my heels with my mouth wide open, unsure where to begin. An apology, a thank-you, maybe even a fuck-you.…Words weren’t my friend without caffeine and if it was really one thirty in the afternoon, I was going to have a difficult time navigating this one.

If I was going to unravel in a foreign country, was an audience necessary? And better question…did it have to be this man?

Roman stepped into the room, instantly taking over the space. The combination of his height, broad shoulders, and broody presence made him seem intimidating as fuck even in a navy V-neck sweater, casual jeans, and bare feet. His hair flopped roguishly over his right eye, which should have softened his sharp features, but…it didn’t. He was devilishly handsome and sexy and— I think I puked on his shoes last night. Oh, please let this be a bad dream.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping for a scene change and a new cast when I opened them again.
Nope. I was still in Roman’s guest room, standing three feet from the man himself, wearing his T-shirt and—
“Are these your boxers?” I asked, plucking at the silky red fabric.

One corner of his mouth twisted in wry amusement. “They were a gift. You can have them. How are you feeling?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve been better. I’m sorry about—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved dismissively and moved to the doorway. “Would you like coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please.”

He smiled kindly. “You got it. I’ll make toast and bacon too.”

“Thank you. Coffee is fine, but—” I paused to look around the immaculate room. “I need my clothes.”

“Trust me. You don’t want your clothes.”

“Huh?”

“I threw your socks and underwear in the wash, but your suit and shirt needed to be dry-cleaned. They’ll be ready tomorrow. I’ll grab a pair of sweatpants and socks for you. You’re welcome to shower. The toothbrush on the counter is the one you used last night. I’ll leave clothes on the banister for you. Meet me downstairs when you’re ready.”

Roman was gone before I could thank him or protest. I decided I wasn’t ready to deal with the fuzzier parts of last night that had resulted in my clothing immediately needing to be dry-cleaned. I headed for the bathroom instead.

The deliciously hot shower under a wide spray felt so amazing, I never wanted to get out. And the thick towel on the warming rack was a slice of nirvana. I dried myself, then wrapped the towel around my waist and wiped steam off the mirror. I scanned the marble-and-glass haven as I brushed my teeth, sighing at the very unwelcome memory of kneeling on the tiled floor in front of the porcelain god.

How was I going to face this man? I’d been a fucking mess last night. Running into traffic, dancing in the rain…and oh…shit. I’d called him daddy.

More than once.

Heat bloomed across my cheeks as I rinsed and patted my mouth dry, but I couldn’t exactly hide in here. I slipped the boxers and tee on and found a pair of gray sweats and black socks perched on the banister post where Roman said they’d be. I finished dressing, finger-combed my short hair, and took one last cleansing breath before following the scent of coffee downstairs.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. She loves wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband and her fabulous pup, George.

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Jul 18

New Release Blitz: Guardians by T.J. Baer (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Guardians

Author: T.J. Baer

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/18/2023

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 57400

Genre: Fantasy, action/adventure, enemies/rivals to lovers, humorous, magic, secret agents, slow burn, lesbian, romance

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Description

Seventeen-year-old Alisha Howard is having a hard day.

She’s had to rescue her headstrong little brother from getting eaten by a monster from another dimension, her mom has put her on dish duty as punishment for bringing her sword to the table (again), and her lifelong enemy, snarky rich girl Belladonna, is starting to look like both a real human being and someone Alisha would like to kiss.

Oh, and to make matters worse, it looks like the world is about to end.

Excerpt

Guardians
T.J. Baer © 2023
All Rights Reserved

My brother Jake lay unconscious on the cave floor, his favorite denim jacket torn in three places and his cell phone a cracked mess of plastic on the ground. If we actually survived this, he was going to be pissed.

“All right, look,” I said, giving the giant snarling insect monster my serious face. “I know I don’t look like much, but you should know I am fully capable of kicking your big buggy butt straight back to where it came from, not only for hurting my brother, but for whatever unholy reign of terror you’ve got planned here.”

The monster was nine feet tall, jet-black, and scaly, with hundreds of spindly legs, like a centipede on steroids. Savage mandibles gleamed in the light from the cave mouth, and I tightened my grip on my sword hilt. And because times of stress often led me to incredible feats of word vomit, I kept talking.

“I mean, let’s face it: guys like you don’t generally show up in our world without some kind of nasty plan for world domination, so I think it’s pretty safe to say you’re up to no good. So are you gonna go peacefully, or do I have to start shoving my boot up random orifices until we find the one that hurts the most?”

The centipede monster reared back, its legs fanning out, its mandibles opening—

And then it tilted its scaly head to the side as if regarding me in puzzlement. “You speak great volumes but say very little,” it said in a thin, whistling voice.

Which, okay, was fair. I’d always had a tendency to babble, particularly when I was in imminent danger of being devoured by the Godzilla of centipedes. Generally, the centipede didn’t take the time to inform me of it though.

“I do not wish any harm upon you,” it continued, deviating even further from the Evil Monster Intent on Taking Over the Earth speech. “Nor any human. I came here only wishing to be left alone, but your companion—” It swung its head toward Jake. “—attempted to steal one of my children, at which point I was forced to defend them. I have not seriously harmed him, only caused him to lose consciousness to neutralize him as a threat.”

“He tried to steal one of your kids?” That didn’t sound like Jake.

The centipede-thing tilted its head toward the other end of the cave, where I could just make out the glittering of a number of round, pearly, head-sized spheres. Eggs? They looked like the kind of pretty, decorative objects people would pay a lot of money for, bringing them much more firmly into the realm of things Jake would totally try to steal.

I sighed and slid my sword into its sheath. The magic triggered the instant I did, and sword and sheath shrank to being a decorative golden clasp on my belt. “I apologize for my companion’s rash actions,” I said, bowing my head slightly like we were supposed to do in these situations. “If you’d allow me to remove him from here, I swear to you that he’ll never come near you or your children again.”

The centipede bowed its head too, its pincers snapping and clicking together in a way that I tried not to be too creeped out by. “That would be acceptable. I thank you, Guardian.”

I blinked. “How’d you know I’m a Guardian?”

“Well, for one thing, the sword.”

“Ah.”

“But even had you come unarmed, I would have known. You wear your status like a cloak. It seeps from every ounce of your being, every word and action. Though you look a frail female thing, there is power in you.”

“Frail female thing,” I said in a flat voice and decided not to be offended. If the worst thing a giant centipede monster had to throw at me was sexism, I could probably count myself lucky. “Yeah, well, guess I’d better get Jake—err, my companion—out of your hair before he wakes up and starts trying to make off with your kids again.”

I started forward, hoping the centipede monster would move out of the way, but it stayed where it was, its black eyes glittering in the dimness.

“You have shown me respect and kindness, and so I shall do something for you in return. My species have a unique ability that appears only between laying our eggs and the birth of our children.”

“Oh, yeah? What kind of ability?”

“The ability to glimpse the future. It allows us to provide extra protection to our young when they are unable to protect themselves, for instance if a young human is attempting to steal one of them.”

“For instance,” I said dryly.

“Something lurks on the horizon, Guardian. An age of darkness and danger is coming to you and those like you.”

I frowned. “To the Guardians, you mean?”

“To all beings of your world.”

“What kind of danger?”

Its legs rippled, and it dropped down onto them and made its undulating way over to the row of eggs. Its last word hissed through the cave, seeming to echo louder and louder in my ears: “Extinction.”

I suddenly felt very, very tired. “Again?”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

T.J. Baer is a queer trans author of novels and short fiction. Born in Western Pennsylvania, he currently resides in his adopted hometown of Chicago with two cats and a well-stocked cupboard of tea. When not writing, T.J. can be found either discussing queer media on his YouTube channel or failing to escape from murderous ghosts on Twitch.

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Jul 18

New Release Blitz: A Little More Hope by Pauley J. Ray (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  A Little More Hope

Series: Hot Property #2

Author: Pauley J. Ray

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/18/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 87900

Genre: Contemporary, Age-gap, Alpha Males, Businessmen, Physical Assault, Coming Out, Sexual Discovery, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD/Post-traumatic stress, Slow Burn

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Description

After a vicious assault leaves him a virtual recluse, businessman Mason Wilder escapes to his friend’s beach house in the small seaside town of Melrose Bay to heal and come to terms with the shadow of the man he has become.

When Ashton Michaels, wanderer, surfer, loner, unexpectedly inherits a rundown shack of a house, he must decide: keep running from his disastrous past relationships or return to the place he loves, finally put down some roots, and learn to live life with all its consequences.

After a chance encounter with his elusive next-door neighbor, Ash can see Mason is hurting and it releases his protective, caring side and he knows he’ll do anything he can to aid the handsome, broken man in such desperate need of help.

Mason initially resists the offer of help from Ash, but the guy is persistent and for reasons he can’t figure out, Mason feels drawn to him. When Ash decides to keep and renovate his new home, impulsively Mason joins him and in the process of rebuilding the house, Mason begins to rebuild his life and confront his fears.
He must also learn to come to terms with his unexpected attraction to a man for the first time in his life. Ash is a solid, comforting, and caring presence and offers Mason everything he’s been searching for since his brutal attack.

Ash is falling hard for the quiet and troubled man he’s spending all his time with but is worried the past will only repeat itself and Mason will leave him all alone like everyone else.

Can Mason finally put his demons to rest to move forward with his life and will Ash be able prevent his fear of being left behind from ruining his chance at love?

Excerpt

A Little More Hope
Pauley J. Ray © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Safe.

A single word encompassing a whole world of images and feelings.

Cozy nights in front of the TV.

Being held in the arms of a loved one.

Safe. Something I recognized with bone-deep certainty I’d never feel ever again.

Rinsing the suds from my body along with my dark thoughts, I shut off the water and opened the shower door, cooler air filling the stall, setting off goose bumps along my skin. Grabbing the nearest towel and carefully drying myself off, I hissed at the tenderness in my muscles as I bent to rub my legs, the pain from my damaged ribs a constant ache in my side.

Shit, I was a mess.

After padding into the bedroom, I dressed carefully in clean sweatpants and a T-shirt, mindful of my injuries. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, least of all Gabe, who’d already seen me at my worst. I wasn’t going out and hadn’t since the first day I’d gotten out of the hospital, so who cared what I wore?

Running my fingers through my damp hair to settle the too long strands in place, I emerged from the bedroom to see Gabe in the kitchen, his jacket now hanging on the barstool. He’d pulled a couple of plates from the cupboard and set them out on the countertop, ready for the food.

When I reentered the living area, Gabe pressed a couple of buttons on the microwave. “You were in there awhile, so I decided to give them a reheat,” he said by way of explanation. When the bell pinged, he retrieved the two sandwiches, and unwrapping them from their paper packaging, placed them on the plates.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, “I didn’t realize I’d taken so long.”

He shrugged. “No problem,” and he gestured with his head as he picked up the plates. “Go sit.”

I carefully sat down in my favorite black leather armchair as he handed me my sandwich before he settled on the sofa to my right.

We sat together in silence. He was waiting for me to speak, but I didn’t have much to say. To give myself thinking time, I picked up my food and took a large bite of my sandwich. The sweetness of the salt beef slid over my tastebuds before the bitter sauerkraut came after. After days of nothing, the simple meal tasted delicious.

“So?” Gabe’s tone made me inwardly groan.

Putting down my sandwich I gave him a direct look. “I’m fine. Okay?”

He scoffed. “So fine you’ve not left your apartment in over a week?”

I sighed. I’d been doing a lot of that lately.

“Look, Gabe.” I stopped talking, as whatever I said next would be a lie. I wasn’t fine, but I wasn’t sure how to go about fixing my mess, or how to express my thoughts clearly enough to tell him so.

I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

Sitting forward on the edge of the sofa, Gabe gave me a sympathetic smile. I fucking hated it. “Look, I know it’s a struggle, and I get it.” He held up his hands. “And I’m not trying to patronize you.”

I gave a slight head tilt, in appreciation of him saying so.

“But you can’t continue on this way. You do know that, right?”

Deep down, I did, but any decisions about how to move forward with my life were all so muddled in my mind that I struggled to find a way out.

“I do,” I replied. “But it’s hard. There’s so much noise in my head, but I can’t work out how to make it stop.”

“Maybe you should take a break for a while, get a change of scenery.”

I frowned. “Change of scenery?”

“Yeah, get out of the city for a bit. Relax.”

“Relax?” I kept repeating him, but for some reason, his words weren’t registering.

“Is there an echo in here?” he deadpanned. “Yes, get away, relax.”

Hmm, maybe. I’d not thought about leaving the city, preferring to barricade myself inside my apartment behind a solid closed door where no one could get to me. But leaving my sanctuary meant being exposed, being vulnerable, and I wasn’t comfortable with the concept at all.

Regardless, I mulled his comments over, and in theory, I agreed my current situation wasn’t healthy, and I’d reluctantly admit to going a little stir crazy, but venturing out into the city unnerved me. All the noise and the people, the narrow side streets and alleyways made me shudder inwardly. But going somewhere quiet, somewhere peaceful, away from everyone and everything currently reminding me of my assault?

“Where would I go?” I asked, unable to recall the last time I’d not worked in the office twelve or more hours a day, at least six days a week. Even if traveling to inspect a construction project in another city, I’d be on-site all day and ordering room service in the evening. I’d never had any time at all to relax and unwind.

Despite being the partner in charge of our luxury eco hotels and resorts, I didn’t have any clue where to go now.

“I have the perfect place,” he replied, answering my unspoken thought.

“Oh?” I waited expectantly for him to elaborate.

“I’ve a house a few hours up the coast in a small community, so not too many people to contend with. The place is perfect. On the edge of town and overlooking the sea, there’s even direct access to a beach only the locals tend to use.”

I stared at the man on the sofa opposite me. Gabe, who thrived on excitement and adventure, who loved nothing more than immersing himself in all the activities a major city had to offer, and I mean all, had a second home, a beach house in a quiet coastal town?

“You have a beach house?” I sputtered, incredulity clear in my voice. “Somewhere… quiet?”

Gabe snickered, “Glad to know I can still surprise you, but yep”—he held up his hands—“guilty as charged.”

“Since when?”

A dark shadow crossed his face, making me frown. When the penny dropped, I could have kicked myself. Of course, this was after his split with Karl and David.

“Sorry, I should have thought.”

He waved my apology off. “It is, what it is,” he stated far too blandly, making it obvious, despite being over two years since their split, the wounds remained painfully open. “I needed somewhere to regroup. To sort my head out. My assistant told me about the place. Apparently, her mom and dad love it, so I thought ‘what the hell’ and went to check it out.”

“I’m guessing you liked what you saw?”

A genuine smile crossed his face this time, one actually reaching his eyes. “I did, and when the house I rented came up for sale last year, I bought the place.”

“Wow.”

Gabe stared at me squarely. “So I do know something of what I’m talking about. Okay, the scenario’s not the same as yours, but I understand the need to get away and work through your trauma at your own pace, and with minimal distractions. To remove yourself from familiarity to regain some semblance of order and control over your life.”

He’d hit the nail smack bang on the head, as that’s exactly how I felt.

“It’s yours if you want it,” he said, and I instantly wanted to grab this lifeline he offered and so badly needed. As if sensing my mood, he sat back and shoved his hand into his pants pocket, and pulling out a single key, he placed it on the coffee table between us. “I got an extra one cut,” he explained. “I’ll email you the directions this afternoon.”

“You’re so sure I’d go?” I asked, picking up the paper.

“Hell, no, but I like to be prepared.”

“Thank you.” Some of the tension I’d carried around the last couple of weeks melted away. “Really, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied simply as he pointed at the food on my plate. “Now eat. You look like a scrawny ass chicken for fuck’s sake.”

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Pauley J Ray has been making up stories in his head for as long as he can remember, and now gets to write those stories down in his own gay romantic fiction, involving sexy, complicated, and flawed characters searching for their happily ever after.

When not writing, he loves meeting up with friends and can’t wait to get outdoors with his husband, hiking, camping and traveling to new and exciting places as often as they can.

He feels extremely lucky to be able to sit at his laptop, all day, every day, creating the heartfelt, angsty and passionate romance books he himself loves to read.

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Jul 11

New Release Blitz: Moonlight and the Monarch by Evelynn Carver (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Moonlight and the Monarch

Series: The Moonlight Curse, Book Two

Author: Evelynn Carver

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/11/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 73100

Genre: Fantasy, romance, fantasy/paranormal, mystery, magic/magic users, demons, kidnapping, captivity/imprisonment, action/adventure, family drama, shifters, political intrigue, HFN

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Description

The exciting adventures of The Moonlight Curse series continues when family loyalty comes up against love.

Brand’s curse remains, his family estranged, and his carefully constructed plan gone ridiculously awry. He’s fallen head over heels for the powerful mage and temperamental socialite, Valentino Vicari, the descendant of the witch who cast a dark curse on his family.

Is Brand prepared to give up everything, crown and consequences be damned, for an excellent pair of legs and a scalding tongue?

The decision is taken from him when Brand and Valentino are captured by agents of Brand’s father, the ruthless King Lykanos, and the newly built trust between them is shattered.

Valentino is forcefully conscripted, thrown into yet another unwanted engagement, his precious pride rubbed in the dirt and stomped on. Left feeling utterly betrayed and powerless without his magic, Valentino can’t help but hope that, somehow, he’ll get a chance to burn the whole castle to ashes and escape. Will his fledgling relationship with Brand survive the fallout?

Brand will have to think two steps ahead of his watchful father, enlist the help of some unlikely allies, and climb through a couple of sewer pipes to scheme his way out of the castle and back into Valentino’s heart.

Family drama, trouble-making ex-lovers, and political intrigue provide the backdrop for a test of our heroes’ newfound love amidst the rising tide of war in this second installment in the series.

Excerpt

Moonlight and the Monarch
Evelynn Carver © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Somewhere in Kaenys

Valentino awoke to darkness. He blinked his eyes open, but he still could not see. Paralyzing panic took him, and suddenly he could barely breathe, barely think. Had he gone blind? With a start, he realized something covered his face. Some sort of rough fabric. He could shift slightly, but a rope encased his wrists and ankles, bound tight.

What in the White Valleys of Hell?

A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he flinched.

“Don’t move,” Brand whispered urgently. “Just lie still and pretend to be unconscious.”

“What in the…?” Valentino groaned.

“Is he awake?” an unfamiliar voice asked, startling Valentino into silence.

“No, just moaning in his sleep, I suspect,” Brand answered. “Is it much farther?”

“Just a block or two off.”

Valentino held stock-still, but his mind raced. He focused on the faint sounds of a wagon creaking and shaking under him. They moved quickly through bumpy streets, each gap in the cobbles giving him a jolt, but the other occupants in the wagon were still and silent, just the faint sounds of breathing and horseshoes hitting stone coming to his straining ears. No light filtered through the bag over his head, so it must still be night or perhaps early morning. That left a considerable gap in his memory. The last thing he remembered was he and Brand standing in their room together, about to share a meal. Brand had just confessed everything, his lies, his hidden royal heritage, the suspected origin of the curse, and how none of that mattered, that Valentino was enough.

It had been terrible. And wonderful.

They were going to make a plan, a life, together. They were going to toast to new beginnings, and then… What? Valentino distinctly remembered removing his pants at some point, but his trousers and things appeared to be in place now, and for that, he was grateful. When had he gotten dressed? Had Brand dressed him? He couldn’t remember.

The clinking of chains and a crash resounded outside. A drawbridge falling? Valentino listened closely as the wagon rolled up a ramp and over uneven ground, the hollow sound of horseshoes clattering over planks muffled by the fabric over his head. Men called to one another, their voices echoing as if in a large space, water splashing in the distance. The wagon lurched forward again, a short sudden drop making his stomach churn. Had they crossed a moat?

Valentino continued to feign sleep, the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears so loud he couldn’t believe no one else had noticed it. What was going on? Had someone captured them? The only place in Remira he remembered with a moat was the castle. That would mean they were going into the Rock Keep, and that would mean terrible things.

After a lot of clank and clatter, the wagon came to a halt, and Valentino yelped as something struck him.

“Wake up, you!” a rough voice demanded. “If you can’t walk, we’ll drag you.”

“He’s still disoriented from the draught,” Brand said and roughly lifted Valentino up and onto his shoulder. “I’ll carry him in.”

The other man snorted. “Suit yourself, Your Highness.”

The address made Valentino’s blood run cold, and he could only allow himself to be hoisted like a sack of potatoes, his heart in his throat.

Right. Brand is a prince.

It still didn’t seem quite real. Brand, the man who had shoveled horse shit with him in a barn in the middle of nowhere, the man who had taken a bullet for him, had lain beside him, kissed him, fallen in love with him over the past two moons was actually bloody royalty.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Brand said into Valentino’s ear. “Just go along, and I swear I’ll figure this out.”

Valentino squirmed slightly in acknowledgment, though he wanted to kick and scream. If Brand had brought him into the keep, what did that mean? Surely, he hadn’t really given him up to the crown after all? After everything they had been through together?

Other men gathered around them, barking orders and expressing excitement and amazement.

“Out of the way, out of the way you lot!” the other man yelled good-naturedly. “Cain’t you see the prince here has his hands full? Clear off!”

The crowd continued their barrage of questions, closing in on them, shouting and laughing. Valentino tried desperately not to vomit.

“Do you no longer follow orders?” a deep voice bellowed from off to the side, authority and stern command clear in her tone. “Get back to your duties this instant!”

The crowd grew silent and dispersed.

“Dyana,” Brand said stiffly.

Brand’s sister. Was she in on this too?

“I see you’ve had a change of heart,” she said evenly, and Valentino could almost feel her eyes crawling over his person. “You’ve brought in the Vicari mage, after all?”

That’s what I want to bloody know!

Brand went quiet. “Let’s speak of this matter inside,” he said finally, his normal country drawl completely absent. It was jarring to hear him speak so formally.

“As you will,” Dyana said slowly. “Father is waiting to meet you in the vestibule. Come this way.”

Valentino swallowed. Brand paused, the tension in his back buzzing against Valentino’s belly. He shifted, hesitating, before moving in the direction of Dyana’s voice as she barked orders to the guards. Brand’s shoulder pushed into his stomach with every step, but Valentino tried to stay limp and still as the sound of boots crunching on gravel changed suddenly to a more even rhythm of steps on stone. A heavy door closed behind them. They must be inside the castle now.

Suddenly there was a rush and a scuffle; loud voices shouted, and armored bodies descended upon them. Valentino didn’t have the time to react before someone wrested him from Brand’s hold and slammed him against a wall, knocking the air from his lungs. They ripped the bag off his head and snapped something around his neck before he could do so much as blink. He tried to scream but sputtered and retched instead.

It was as if they had stuffed cotton wool in his ears and nose, clogging his senses and filling his head until it became as heavy and dense as a brick. This was exponentially worse than any illness he’d ever endured, and the sudden shock of it sent him reeling. He gagged again, bile rising in his throat as they dragged him away through a long hallway, down a set of stairs, and threw him into a dark room. He looked around blearily, the walls shifting in his vision. It was like being drunk on the worst cheap liquor but remaining completely self-aware and, therefore, deeply, horrendously terrifying.

Where did Brand go? Why had he allowed this to happen? Surely this was a mistake.

The guard reached for him again. Valentino jerked away and tripped, what he’d intended as a quick-footed dodge turning into a lead-footed stumble. The guard pushed him against the wall again and slapped heavy iron manacles on his arms and legs. The cold metal stung his skin.

“What is this? What have you done to me?” Valentino choked out.

The guard answered with a rough laugh. “This is a special bit of jewelry for talented little troublemakers like yourself.”

Valentino tried to reply but could only retch. The bastards must have put a mage collar on him—a magical dampener of the worst sort. Valentino knew the stories, but he’d always assumed they were simply fairytales meant to scare disobedient children from misusing their magic. They weren’t real. They couldn’t be. Desperately, he reached deep for his magical reserves, but it was like reaching into a pocket thought to be full, only to find it empty with a hole at the bottom.

His knees buckled and he slid to the ground, arms held in place above him by the chains. “Why are you doing this? I’m a guest of your prince!”

“You’re not a guest.” The guard laughed again. “You’re a prisoner.”

With that, he slammed the door, leaving Valentino alone in the darkness and unable to light so much as a matchstick.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Evelynn lives with her partner, child, and dog in the Deep Dark South (also known as Atlanta, Georgia). She studied art in school and is somehow still deemed employable. In her free time, she reads genre fiction, plays video games, watches cartoons, and engages in other related unseemly behavior. She’s been writing and drawing stories since she was in grade school and would one day love to grow up to be a Real Author.

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Jul 06

Book Blitz: Flash Point by Lena Austin (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Flash Point

Series: Protect and Serve

Author: Lena Austin

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: July 7, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 46 pages

Genre: Romance, Science Fiction, Action Adventure, RomCom, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Gay, Shapeshifters

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Synopsis

When fireman Dustin Hardesty saves a scruffy tomcat from a fire, and then a neutering at the shelter, he has no idea he’s just moved a cat shifter named Tigs into his life.

Tigs figures he owes Dustin, so he’ll hang around to give Dustin some good times. He doesn’t count on Dustin never wanting to let go of his alley cat.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Lena Austin

My name is Tigs, and I’m a cat shifter. Don’t get smart, it’s not short for Tigger or anything stupid like that. I don’t fucking bounce or lisp my words, and I’m a gray tabby. I usually work construction and home renovation, me and my crew. We’re all shifters of one type or another, but we get along most of the time.

I’d let the rest of my crew go home early while I coiled up extension cords, locked up the tools, and cleaned up our work site. The old deli used to be the coolest little place when I’d been a kitten, but that’d been years ago. The guys would be waiting for me back at the warehouse we rented for the equipment, six blocks away — it also served as our home. The place was “guarded” by two dogs — a rat terrier and a Rottweiler mix along with three scruffy cats and that didn’t mean anything to the absentee landlord. Long as he got his cash, he didn’t give a shit.

Speaking of shit, we may look scruffy, but we’re good neighbors. We used the litter box or took a walk outside. The dogs “walk” each other, so that’s cool, and they curb themselves like responsible citizens.

Anyway, I smelled the stink of burning wood and rubber first. Figured some homeless guy had lit up the contents of a trashcan to keep warm nearby and didn’t give it another thought. This wasn’t the best neighborhood, but most poor don’t foul their own nest, ya know?

So, I finished coiling up the last extension cord and tossed it into the storage locker. Two seconds to snap the padlock, and I was ready for some of Pete’s Tuna Steaks on the grill back at our place.

No such luck. The smoke from the fire was coming up the stairs when I opened the door, and I bent over coughing my lungs out before I could shut the damn thing. “Who the fuck set a real fire in this stinkin’ joint? It can’t be for the insurance.” Didn’t matter. The entire downstairs — such as it was — was engulfed, and the floor was heating up. Damn near burned me through my boots, which meant I had seconds to get my ass out.

I took the easy road and threw a piece of scrap two-by-four through one of the windows we hadn’t removed yet. Single pane, painted shut, so it shattered easy as pie. Then I shifted, abandoned my clothes to their fate, and leaped for the limb of a scrub pine just in time. I hit the branches, yowling in pissed off feline at the loss of a perfectly good pair of steel toes.

Naturally, that was the moment the fire truck showed up. How convenient. I’d bet the arsonist called in the fire as soon as he got a safe distance away, after ensuring the place would be a pile of ash. So, a professional job. Not my problem, except some asshole owed me some new boots.

What surprised the fuck out of me was the ladder that slammed up against the tree. Tree wasn’t that big, being an inner city volunteer from some bird’s ass that happened on an empty lot. The whole thing shook.

I might have backed up a bit, but it wasn’t fear. I just didn’t want to get grabbed like some wuss who didn’t have sense enough to know how to get down.

The human wearing the standard issue fireman’s hard hat and a million pounds of gear climbed the ladder with casual ease until we were damn near face to whiskers.

“Well, hello bay-bee!” Okay, so it came out as a yowl loud enough to burst eardrums. Any other tom would have recognized my interest in the biggest pair of grass-green eyes in a tanned face I’d seen in a long time. Okay, so they were red-rimmed and tired. If I’d been human, my dick would have lifted my ass so far I’d have fallen out of the tree. I wanted me a piece of that man!

Once handsome Grass Eyes stopped wincing from my loud mouth, he hitched himself up one more rung. “Hey there, you could replace our siren with that set of lungs, dude.” He checked the fire, now close enough to us that I was getting more than a tad warm, ya know? “I really hate to interrupt your serenade, but unless you want to burn down with this tree, we need to go.” He reached for me.

On reflection, I realized Grass Eyes didn’t have a clue that I was a shifter, nor did he mean to insult Da Tigs. At the time, all I cared about was swatting his hand. Encased in the gloves and shit, he wasn’t even hurt, but I’d made my point. I could jump down anytime, if he’d move that fucking ladder.

Grass Eyes shook his head. “Man, I don’t want to leave you, loudmouth. Come on! This tree’s gonna go, shit head.”

Yeah, he had a point. I ignored his hand and jumped on his shoulders. I’d be damned if I’d be carried down like some frou-frou case from Cat Fanciers magazine.

“Okay, if that’s the way you want it.” Grass Eyes had the sense to know when he’d been elected as the vehicle of my ride down and made his way back to the base of the tree. I kept on riding, even while he helped his buds put the ladder away. Clearly, the old deli was a total loss, so they concentrated on keeping the rest of the local trash-pit buildings from coming down. Not all that difficult, and I couldn’t blame them for not working too hard at saving what wasn’t worth the effort.

Grass Eyes stood over to the side, talking on his radio and leaning against the big-ass red fire truck. He’d scrub his face with his hand now and then.

One of his buddies came by, lugging shit back to the truck. “It was arson, Dustin. Betcha the dogs sniff out accelerant.”

Dustin, which was Grass Eyes’ real name I guessed, sighed. “Yeah. This place was being renovated too. I drive by here daily and see the workers. They’ve been putting their backs into cleaning this place out, and they’re clean as a whistle about putting away equipment. I’ll tell the inspector the same when I see him. I doubt it was them being careless.”

Hey, a compliment. Very cool. I purred and rubbed up against Dustin’s ear for that.

“Yeah, I like you too, loudmouth.” He reached up and I let him give the backs of my ears a rub. I closed my eyes and purred louder, just to let him know he was doing a good job.

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

Meet the Author

Someone cursed Lena Austin with “may you have a life so full you’ll have many tales to tell your grandchildren.” Lena’s a “fallen” society wench with a checkered past. She’s been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba — she’s got a lifetime of “Research material!”

Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won’t listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something?

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Jul 04

New Release Blitz: Amid the Haze by Jessica Cranberry (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Amid the Haze

Series: Hazel & Maeve #2

Author: Jessica Cranberry

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/04/2023

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 85900

Genre: Contemporary, genre fiction, contemporary, new adult, historical (early 2000s), bisexual, F/F, cisgender, college mystery, crime, suspense, law enforcement, police academy, slow burn, toxic masculinity, hazing, sports team, power imbalance, therapy

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Description

Maeve Drakos and Hazel Fischer continue their college journey, moving back to the city and starting the peace officer training program at the community college. They pick out their first apartment, and everything seems awesome. Until they meet the neighbors.

Members of Oakley University’s men’s lacrosse team live in the big house behind them. After many late-night parties and several instances of vandalizing the girls’ apartment, Maeve has had enough. She decides to confront them on their own turf. Except while there, she discovers team secrets far darker than broken windows and spray-painted walls. Yet they all insist it’s nothing—just tradition. The captain’s a nice guy; they’re all good guys. Yeah, no.

Maeve thought she and Hazel were supposed to be the perfect team—in more ways than one. But when she approaches Hazel about reporting the guys, Hazel doesn’t necessarily see what’s happening next door the same way. And she’s hardly ever home anyway, because she’s been spending loads of time with her friend Doug. All this leaves Maeve doubting herself and questioning everything she thought she understood so clearly their freshman year.

Yet there’s no time to figure anything out before Maeve and Hazel find themselves embroiled in another murder mystery. Who has time to care about a crush when there’s a rotting corpse in the basement?

Excerpt

Amid the Haze
Jessica Cranberry © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Maeve

April 7, 2001

Cool blasts of April air blew her hair around the car, swirling around her head, whipping against my cheek every now and then. It had grown longer, the weight of it suppressing some of her natural wave. We were headed to Indy—just the two of us. Behind us had been hours and hours of nothing but long, straight road, pumping music, those crispy, fried, onion-flavored chips, and countless cigarette butts streaming out the windows as I drove full throttle across I-70. Acres of farmland surrounded us, mounded rows extending beyond the horizon, prepped for corn or soybean seed, until a new city emerged with tall buildings cutting through a span of sky and a falling orange sun. As we navigated through downtown, through the maze of asphalt and concrete, the open fields fell away as if they ceased to exist.

Hazel flicked the radio off and lit another cigarette. She’d started smoking again, and I wasn’t going to complain about it. That probably made me a shitty friend, but I was glad to have a smoking buddy.

“I brought you something.” I reached into the backseat blindly, keeping my eyes on the road, and felt around in my bag until my fingers grazed the thin pages of the city newspaper. “Check out page three.”

Hazel unfolded the Ledger Dispatch and found our story, the one Gayle Jackson had interviewed us for, detailing last autumn’s campus murder of Ryan Newsome (asshole and sexual predator, although most media outlets left those bits out) and how we’d pieced it all together…not totally unscathed.

“Good for her. She said she wasn’t going back to the Echo after they canned her last year.” Hazel carefully refolded the paper along the creases as if it contained nothing more than the crossword.

“You’re not gonna read it?”

“I know how it ends.”

Hazel hadn’t gone back to school after Newsome’s murderer attacked us. She needed time to heal—physically and emotionally. We all did. But I couldn’t escape the feeling something else was keeping her away, distant. Before today, I hadn’t seen Hazel since October, the morning I’d followed her into the police station to give a statement. We’d been emailing back and forth, but neither of us ever mentioned what had happened all those nights ago—what it had been like seeing her blood soak through her clothes, fear as thick as fog, a death so close you could taste it on the air like the salt and sand of a new shore. No, we’d skirted around all of that.

It didn’t stop me from wondering how she felt or what she thought about it. Hazel could be a bit of a mystery to me. Most folks I could see right through, not her. She kept everything wrapped up so tight inside herself, I didn’t think I’d ever break through. And maybe that was okay. Maybe even better than okay.

“I haven’t been in a real city for months. I forgot how pretty they can be,” she said. “All the bustling around. Life, I mean, you can see it happening.” Her cigarette bounced with the motion of her lips. She tucked it between her fingers and blew out a long, lingering exhale as though she’d been born knowing how to do that.

“Have you been here before?” I asked.

“As a kid, we hit up the children’s museum.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, when my parents… We used to live right on the border of Illinois and Indiana.”

I still couldn’t believe it took her so long to tell me what she’d lived through. But knowing the ways people have been hurt changed relationships—sometimes for the better, sometimes not. So I got it; she didn’t want pity anywhere near us.

“You’re a regular child of the corn, then, huh?” And this seemed to be how we handled the big traumatic things, poking fun around what caused the most pain. Joking. Deflecting. Sidestepping anything that hurt.

“I told you my middle name, didn’t I? It’s Malachi.”

I laughed and pressed the cigarette lighter. Hazel instinctively reached for the pack in the cup holders and got one out for me. I rolled down my window just as the lighter popped back up, its coils burning orange and hot.

“Do you know where we’re headed?” she asked.

“Not really. I printed out a MapQuest for it though. It’s in the glovebox.”

She took out the directions and spread the folded papers over her lap. “What street are we on?”

“Ohio.”

“We’re close. If you can find a place to park, do it.”

Brake lights glowed red in front of us. I slowed down and watched the last of the sunset, streaking pink and purple behind the high-rise buildings of the Midwestern city. The air smelled of exhaust. I followed the inching traffic into a parking garage.

“You think all these people are going to the same place we are?” Hazel asked.

“Maybe? She has a following.”

By the time I parked, night had fallen. Streetlights clicked on and cast the sidewalks in a tangerine glow. Hazel folded the directions and tucked them in her hoodie pocket.

We ended up not needing the map. A decent-sized crowd of mostly women seemed to all be going in the same direction. We just fit in and followed. As we got closer, a line had already formed, and we waited, stuck behind a rowdy group of college-aged kids with dark lipstick and short flowery dresses. They were probably the same age as Hazel and me. They seemed so much younger, though, with all the laughing and the squealing.

Hazel surveyed them; her right eyebrow cocked the way it always did when she tried to puzzle out someone’s behavior. I handed her the silver flask I’d slipped in my jacket pocket. Elbowing her, I told her to relax.

“I’m relaxed,” she said and took a swig of the peppermint schnapps.

Spring flowers and just…joy scented the air. Yeah, that was it. Joy. After such a dark year, I barely recognized the feeling. The line shuffled forward. Ani DiFranco’s name, in black block lettering, stood against the marquee’s glow.

“I can’t believe you scored tickets,” Hazel said.

“I told you we should go.”

Hazel’s expression lightened whenever I pressed Play on Living in Clip, and in the middle of all the shit that had gone down at school last fall, there’d been a notice in the paper about this tour. I figured right then and there I’d pay whatever price to get Hazel to this show if we made it out of that mess.

“I didn’t really think it would happen. Especially, in the middle of…everything.”

“So, how’ve you been dealing with all of that?” Asking was a risk, but I wanted to take it. While I gave her a pass on talking about her family, I needed to know about this because the nightmares hadn’t stopped for me. I still woke up in a sweaty panic, Shirlee’s glowing glasses disappearing and reappearing like pieces of the Cheshire cat.

Hazel shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and stared at her feet. “Honestly, I don’t know that I am.” Her eyes met mine. “I just ignore it mostly.”

“Me too.” Time heals all wounds. Unless it didn’t.

She fiddled with her hair, braiding the ends absentmindedly. We moved forward a few more steps. At the double doors, security guards shined flashlights in purses and patted down coat pockets.

Hazel pushed her hair back from her face. “I feel kinda frozen in place, ya know?”

“I do.”

“Aunt Liddy says not to rush anything. That everything will settle back to normal in time. But what if it doesn’t?”

“Maybe this is the new normal.”

“Exactly.”

“They haven’t filled your space in our dorm yet. You could always come back.”

“No. I withdrew.”

“You did?”

She laughed in that self-mocking way she had sometimes. “You know I’m not meant to be anybody’s teacher.”

The thought of her surrounded by little kids made me laugh too. “There are other programs.”

She shook her head. “I don’t belong there. I knew it on day one. The only good thing that happened was meeting you and Doug.”

“You guys still talk?”

“Yeah, through email mostly. Like with you.”

“That’s cool.” But my heart said, Oh.

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Meet the Author

Jessica Cranberry lives in the Sierra Nevada foothills and spends most days striking a balance between parenthood, teaching, and writing suspense novels or eclectic short stories. Learn more on Jessica’s website.

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Jun 30

Book Blitz: The Bathhouse by Gale Stanley (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  The Bathhouse

Series: It Should Have Been You 2

Author: Gale Stanley

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: June 30. 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 75 pages

Genre: Romance, Thriller/Suspense, 2nd Chance Romance, Gay, Contemporary, Multicultural & Interracial

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Synopsis

Reed Barton is a millionaire who can have anything he wants, except the one thing he desires most. His first love. He’s spent years trying to recreate the night they met in a San Francisco bathhouse. The image of the beautiful Filipino man who took his virginity is never far from his thoughts.

Reed’s life is turned upside down when his long-lost love reappears — and not in a good way. Joseph Castro is not quite what he seems. Time and experience have changed both men, and there’s no going back. But maybe, together, they can go forward.

Excerpt

Reed Barton had last minute jitters about going to the bathhouse. The men might be old and creepy. His visit might get back to his family. The list went on, but they were just excuses, soon cast aside in favor of discovering what he’d been missing.

Nineteen, almost twenty, and still a virgin. He had little experience with sex. Educated at authoritarian male boarding schools, there wasn’t much time for fooling around. Lessons started early and finished late, and afterwards the boys were kept busy with homework, sports, and dinner until bedtime. Still, he’d witnessed a few incidents. He’d seen one boy sucking another’s penis in the bathroom. At the time, Reed had been appalled, but titillated as well. He pictured himself on his knees, forced to suck another boy’s cock, and longed for the reality, but no opportunity presented itself.

In college, Reed felt the inexplicable draw of chemistry, but only toward other men. To his family he presented a picture of heterosexual “normalcy” but in fact, he took to visiting a bar where gay men hung out. He engaged in several hurried blowjobs in the bathroom, but nothing more. One of his nameless encounters told him about the bathhouse. Bathhouses had once been a rite of passage for gay men, but many had closed through the years. Somehow, this one had survived and Reed was determined to take advantage of whatever it had to offer.

The taxi deposited Reed in a downtown Frisco area known for muggings. Many of the buildings were abandoned and there were no signs or addresses. Confused, Reed questioned the driver. The man pointed down an alley and held out his hand for the fare.

A few working streetlights cast eerie shadows as Reed entered the back street. He felt uneasy, but the sense of danger excited him as well. He’d always been tempted by the forbidden.

A sudden downpour pelted Reed with stinging drops. He picked up his pace, ignoring the beer cans and fast food containers underfoot, and spotted a heavy wooden door with a small sign affixed to it that read <em>Rock Hard Gym</em>. Relieved, Reed pushed the door open and entered a small foyer.

A young man sat behind a window. He scrutinized Reed carefully before selling him a membership. “Do you want a locker or a private room?”

“A locker. I don’t know how long I’ll stay.”

“Fifteen for the membership. Five for the locker.”

Reed exchanged a twenty-dollar bill for an ID card, a white towel and a plastic wristband with a locker key.

“There are condoms and lube in the locker room.” The clerk buzzed Reed through another door.

The heady scent of sex intoxicated him. He didn’t care that the floors were old and slippery with water and body fluids. The lockers were rusty and the walls badly in need of paint, but Reed couldn’t see past the naked male bodies.

Men stood, sat, and lingered in stages of undress, manspreading on changing benches, tiny towels intentionally parted. Reed found it hard to look away from the smorgasbord of flesh so openly exposed.

While searching for his locker, he became aware of the lingering looks he attracted, but none of the men appealed to Reed, not even in the dim lighting. He wanted to explore and he made quick work of undressing.

Wrapping the towel around his hips, Reed left the locker room. There was a gym, small and ill equipped, but a gym nonetheless. Reed bypassed it. Straight ahead he encountered an area where men of all ages and sizes, naked except for their towels, stood around and watched gay porn. He watched the film for a few minutes, then he moved on, entering a series of corridors where men prowled the hallways looking for acceptable partners.

He passed door after door, some closed, many open. Grunts echoed from the shadows. Reed caught glimpses of men grinding and thrusting. Moans filled his ears. Hushed words, frightening and thrilling. Blood rushed to Reed’s dick. It was electrifying to be surrounded by so much sex.

Reed stepped around men who didn’t care about getting a room. Heart pounding, he watched them giving blowjobs or having anal sex in the hall. A few invited him to join in, but he wasn’t ready — yet.

Like a kid in a candy shop, he wandered the labyrinth, taking it all in. Everything astounded him — the soundscape of grunts, moans, hissing, gagging, slapping skin on skin… The halls reeked of sweat and semen.

Reed’s palms were damp with nervous energy. Was he really prepared to do what he’d come here for? Yes. He’d come too far to back off now. He wanted to explore his sexual self.

Reed’s path ended at the steam room. Excitement floated on clouds of vapor. A dozen heads lifted to size him up. Feeling suddenly timid and embarrassed, Reed backed up, intending to leave. Just then, a group of boisterous frat boys arrived and carried him along with them. Reed separated himself and took a seat on one of the wooden benches.

The warm, wet air enveloped Reed’s body, and loosened his tense muscles. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of relaxation, but the atmosphere changed with the new arrivals. Suddenly the steam room became a hotbed of lust. All wet, slithering bodies sliding up against each other. A strange body pressed up against Reed and startled him. He wished he could be as liberated as these men, but he was too new, too green. There were too many horny men. He needed to find a quieter space.

Reed got as far as the door, but was brought up short by a hand on his shoulder. For a moment, he was too shocked to move. Then he turned.

The man in front of him was shorter. His black hair framed dark eyes, a flat nose and a smiling mouth. Reed scanned the length of him, eyes widening at the tent in his towel. Under it had to be a rock-hard erection. Reed dragged his fascinated gaze back to the man’s exotic face, his broad cheekbones and deep-set eyes.

The stranger’s alluring lips curled in a seductive smile as he spoke. “I don’t blame you for wanting to leave. It’s so noisy in here. A man can’t hear himself think.”

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

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