Book Blitz: One Step Back by Edie Danford (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  One Step Back

Author: Edie Danford

Publisher: Edie Danford

Release Date: October 23, 2018

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 85,000 words

Genre: Romance, Enemies-to-lovers, coworkers, workplace, stepbrothers

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Synopsis

When you fall for a guy who’s about to become your stepbrother—do you listen to
your heart and risk everything? Or listen to your head…and take one step back?

In high school I had a hundred reasons to steer clear of my soon-to-be-
stepbrother, Joe Beneventi. He was a hothead, and I was reserved. His life was football,
mine was academics. He wanted to be out and proud, and I desperately needed to keep
my orientation secret.

But when we fell in love, my heart took the wheel, and I took every risk to be with
Joe. Then one horrible night our secrets shattered. Joe disappeared—wrecking our
families and breaking my heart.

Eleven years later, I landed a challenging job at a premier PR firm. And the hotshot
publicist who’s been assigned to my first big account? Yep. It’s Joe.

Fate truly hates me because now Joe and I have three days to hole up in a
Chicago hotel room and nail down a deal that could make or break our careers. He
keeps distracting me, but I’m too jaded to fall for sexy smiles, bedroom eyes, and his
impossible-to-ignore body. Except…

I like being close to him again. A little too much. Working together 24/7 is showing
me sides of Joe I’ve never seen before.

And when we touch, being together seems like the only step worth taking.

Excerpt

I take a deep breath. Gotta prepare myself for being up-close and personal with the force of nature that is Joseph Vincent Beneventi.

“Hey, Joe,” I say, my voice cracking. Not how I’d wanted to sound.

His sexy mouth curves, and I get hit with the full impact of his attention-sucking energy. It zaps across the entryway. Through the guesthouse and the five-acre yard. All of Chicagoland. The state of Illinois, the entire Midwest…

Yeah, you get the picture. Joe has <em>it</em>. Chemical hoodoo-voodoo oozes from his pores and makes you forget whatever it is you’re doing, whatever happened to be on your mind. And all you can do is stand there and stare at him. And listen to the ridiculous shit that comes out of his gorgeous mouth.

I’ve had to cope with this Joe-phenomenon for three years now, as long as his mom and my dad have been dating. Weekends and vacations together at first, and then mostly full time as of last year, after Kim and Bernie got engaged and bought this monstrosity of a property together.

Wedding-planning and “a home where we can be a family” was supposed to bring us stability. Wishful thinking, because things between my dad and Joe’s mom—between all of us, really—seem rockier than ever.

“Hey, you.” Joe leans against the door jamb, killer smile flashing.

He’s a big, glossy beast, and he lights up the night that I’ve tried to darken. I look away from his shining eyes, but his jacked chest and abs, his maybe-too-tight board shorts, his legs, his feet, aren’t any easier to ignore.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be home tonight?” he asks. His deep voice has a slight throb, like he’s actually hurt. “You didn’t answer my message. Any of my messages. I get why you didn’t want to show for my amazingly fucking boring graduation, but… I was hoping to hear about your plans. For the summer.”

He reaches up to brush damp hair from his face, the movement popping every muscle from shoulder to wrist. Matty actually sighs from behind me. I try not to notice how the longer hair and the scruff on his chin make Joe look hotter than his usual smoking hellfire.

He spent his senior year at a therapeutic high school here in the Chicago area and the place didn’t demand buzz-cuts the way the military school did. The longer black waves do amazing things for his cheekbones, his squared-off chin, his sin-dark eyes.

I’m supposed to be saying something. So I open my mouth and a lame excuse comes out. “I wasn’t sure about flight times. Until the last minute. Storms in New York.”

He nods, head tilting as he scrutinizes my features. He wants to believe me even though it’s obvious I’m lying. The sky had been clear when I’d jetted away from LaGuardia, my freshman year of college complete.

I’d been avoiding all contact with Joe since Christmas break. I’d figured he’d understand why I didn’t respond to any of his messages today. Or at least take the hint. <em>Hey, Joey, after I don’t answer your two-hundredth-and-seventieth voicemail, maybe that means I don’t want to communicate with you. </em>But Joe is thick in more ways than one.

His dark eyes get warmer as they take me in, the dimple in his right cheek popping. His thumb traces the sand-dollar tattoo under his left nipple, a move I’m sure he’s making unconsciously. I do the same thing sometimes. I have a matching tattoo; we’d gotten them in Mexico during Christmas vacation two years ago. The ’rents had been very confused when both of us suddenly wore rash guards 24/7 for the rest of the break. Joe had come up with a BS-but-brilliant excuse about stingray sightings and the angle of the sun and the chemicals in sunscreen lotion killing off coral reefs.

And, okay. I’m not being fair. Joe isn’t thick. He’s probably smarter than me. He just doesn’t know how to rein in a lot of the bad shit that constantly roams his head. I’ve actually tried to help him figure out some stuff, given him some pointers about how to focus and prioritize—

There’s a crashing noise from the pool area. More shit breaking.

“Fuck,” he mutters, looking over his shoulder.

“You better get back there. Broken glass. Blood. Nastiness. It’s all gonna happen.”

He sighs—a shudder wracking his six-five frame. “Should’ve never invited anyone over.” His smile is crooked. “Your fault. I wouldn’t have had to get up to shenanigans with Bran and Troy if I’d known you’d be here tonight.”

And, there it is.

The reason why he always, <em>always </em>manages to piss me off. I’m not responsible for him. Not responsible for his feelings, for his actions. I refuse to be.

“Not my fault,” I say, my voice cracking again, damn it. I take a step backward, my hand pulling the door closed.

“Asher, come on. You know I didn’t mean it like that—”

I shut the door in his face. Then I pull the blinds closed, blocking out his beauty, blocking out his hurt expression. Maturity can go fuck itself, because literally closing off Joe from my senses will be the only way I can survive the summer.

“Wow,” Matty says.

“Yeah,” I agree.

#

It’s probably a few hours later when something jolts me awake. It’s Joe looming over me. I must’ve passed out after Matty left. I’m sprawled on the big chaise in the guesthouse’s living room, Joe standing so close his knees are touching the cushion’s edge.

There’s only one light on, a yellow glow coming from the glass-fronted cabinet that displays Joe’s shell collection. It creates weird, streaky shadows across his super-defined chest and abs.

His shorts are dry now, not as tight on his thighs or his package, but I can see he’s erect, a righteous bulge that’s impossible to miss. And, when I look up into his face, my gaze snags on his parted lips, his heavy-lidded eyes .

The house is quiet. No more party outside. When Joe inhales suddenly, I can feel the sharpness of his breath in my own lungs.

I sit, swinging my legs to the side of the chaise, planting my feet on either side of his. He takes my face in his hands. His fingers are warm, familiar, his touch so tender it makes me want to cry.

And, God, when our gazes connect, and I immediately fall into that dark brown and gold I dream about, tears clog my throat, for real.

“Ash,” he whispers, his voice so hoarse I can barely hear it. The pad of his thumb passes over my lower lip. I lick away the taste of him and he sighs. “Damn, I missed you.”

I nod. I can’t speak. It hurts.

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Meet the Author

Edie lives in Vermont with her husband, two sons, and random creatures that might or might not be pets. She loves libraries (where she’s found play, work, and love since she was a kid), long walks (unless ice is involved), lewd language (in the right context), luscious romance (of any variety), and alliteration.

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Review Blog Tour: Only You by Kay Doherty

Title:  Only You

Author: Kay Doherty

Publisher:  Ninestar Press

Original Release Date: December 18, 2017

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 51,800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBT, PTSD, law enforcement, age gap, grief, men over 40, coming out

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Synopsis

Case Holden hates his life. Made rich at a young age, he slipped into a lifestyle of partying and multiple boyfriends who only want to be with him for what he can give them. After confiding to his aunt that he’s miserable, she extends an invitation for a visit, which he decides to accept. Case plans on spending the time in small town Clover City to re-prioritize and plant his feet on the road to happiness. He does not expect the Clover City sheriff to step into his world and wreak havoc on his emotions.

Two years ago, after the death of his partner, Rawley Kane moved to Clover City, trading the painful memories and big city madness for a less stressful existence. Even as sheriff, his life is uncomplicated and quiet. That is until Case Holden rolls into town and reminds Rawley just how lonely he is, and of everything he’s been missing.

Case is everything Rawley shouldn’t want. The man has six boyfriends and a life back in Denver, not to mention he’s quite a bit younger than Rawley. No matter what he tells himself, he can’t get enough of the young man. And Case has made it clear Rawley is the only one he wants. Now if they could just get past Rawley’s guilt and Case’s insistent boyfriends, they just might stand a chance.

Excerpt

Rawley had spent the past four days in his truck with his trusty radar gun, nailing speeders at various points across town. The past two days, he’d been sitting at the railroad crossing at the edge of town; a hot spot for teenagers speeding down the main road and over the tracks without looking. It had been a year since the last death occurred on these tracks and he intended to keep the streak going. He sighed loudly as he tore off the latest ticket and gave the seventeen-year-old boy behind the wheel his usual speech about safety. He’d given out half a dozen the past couple of days, but if it saved a life by making the kids think twice, it was worth the mind-numbing boredom.

Rawley climbed back into his truck, shut off the emergency lights, and drove back to his parking spot partially hidden by the wall of the feed store near the tracks. It had been the usual quiet on the crime front the past several days, which was typically a welcome occurrence for Rawley, but ever since Case Holden’s arrival, Rawley’s thoughts had been plagued by gray-blue eyes, dark hair, and a perfectly toned body. He spent his nights tossing and turning, imagining Case in any number of different scenarios, every one of them sexual. The whole situation was frustrating him. He took the edge off every night with his hand, but it didn’t satisfy the deep need he had for another man’s body—Case’s body in particular.

Rawley shifted on the bench seat and adjusted himself. He seriously needed to get a grip. The moment Case climbed into his truck, drenched from the rain, Rawley had suspected he was gay, but after running into each other several times around town the past few days, Rawley was now certain. The knowledge only worsened his predicament because he knew if he wanted Case badly enough, he could have him. The man didn’t even try to hide his sexuality or his attraction to Rawley. When they’d seen each other the day before at the general store, he’d been wearing a dark-blue T-shirt that had “Out and Proud” stamped across the chest in rainbow lettering.

They’d found themselves face-to-face in front of the dairy display — Rawley in his tan police uniform and Case looking like a model in his skintight T-shirt and painted-on jeans. Conversation had been polite but stilted. Rawley knew it was his fault because he was too busy noticing every little dip and curve of Case’s body to speak coherently.

Knowing Case was gay and that he wouldn’t make a play for the younger man had Rawley short-tempered and sniping at everyone. That was why he was sitting alone on the outskirts of town, doing traffic duty; no one wanted to be around him, including himself. Rawley stared into the distance, wondering what the hell he’d done in this life or a past one to earn him this level of torture, when a vehicle he would’ve been hard-pressed to miss caught his attention. The bright-gold Mustang roared past him, registering ten miles per hour over the speed limit.

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Rawley muttered. He turned on the emergency lights and siren as he pulled onto the road.

There was only one person in Clover City who drove a Mustang. He caught up to Case quickly, and they pulled to the side of the road, Rawley coming to a stop a few car lengths behind Case. Rawley exited the truck and walked up to the driver’s side of the car to find Case had rolled down his window and held out his license and insurance card. Rawley took them, willing his body not to react to the beautiful smile Case offered him. Rawley couldn’t help but notice that Case wore a black shirt that made his hair seem even darker and those gray-blue eyes brighter.

“Get pulled over a lot, do you?” Rawley asked, averting his gaze to Case’s papers.

“My car tends to draw attention,” Case answered. Rawley rolled his eyes at Case’s nonchalant shrug.
“Your car draws attention,” Rawley muttered.

Everything about Case drew attention, or at least Rawley’s. He put his mind to the task at hand, making sure Case’s license and insurance were up-to-date before handing them back through the window.

“I didn’t get pulled over driving my aunt’s Jeep.”

“Did you speed in the Jeep?”

Case shrugged. “It was a manual with no oomph.”

“Slow down,” Rawley said as he turned on his heel to return to his truck.

Purchase

Ninestar Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords

Meet the Author

Kay lives in Colorado with her husband and their animal children. Family is important to her, so there are weekly visits to her parents and frequent text messages with her brothers. She has a severe addiction to coffee and Mexican food. She loves to read and write and can easily become consumed by it for hours, much to the dismay of the husband and dogs. On occasion, she can be convinced to venture out into world of the living.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads |eMail

Tour Schedule

10/23 Amy’s MM Romance Reviews

10/23 MM Good Book Reviews

10/24 Bayou Book Junkie

10/24 Two Chicks Obsessed

10/25 MM Midnight Cafe

10/26 Megan’s Media Melange

10/26 OMGReads

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Release Blitz: Sugar Cookies and Mistletoe by Kay Doherty (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Sugar Cookies and Mistletoe

Author: Kay Doherty

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: October 22, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 11600

Genre: Paranormal, Halloween, Christmas, werewolves, bonded, virgin, reunited

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Synopsis

Preston believed he would never find his mate. When he finally does, he’s in for a surprise. His mate, Dylan, is a rare omega wolf-shifter, but he’s still a child himself. Due to the unusual circumstances, the families agree to keep Preston and Dylan separated, only allowing monitored emails to be exchanged between them. Six years later, Dylan returns to the wolf-shifter town of Barton, and Preston. With Christmas just around the corner, it’s the perfect time for Dylan to meet the Callahan Pack, reunite with his mate, and figure out exactly what his omega status means for his future with Preston.

Excerpt

Sugar Cookies and Mistletoe
Kay Doherty © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
October 2012

Preston Callahan walked down the street with the other unmated alphas and glanced at the pack members lining the sidewalks in front of their homes. The wolf pack didn’t celebrate Halloween, but some had decorated their porches for fall with scarecrows, pumpkins, and wreaths made from colorful leaves.

“I hate this damn parade,” he said to his twin sister, Penny, who walked beside him. “It’s antiquated.”

“Shush. I have hopes,” Penny replied while scanning the crowd with a critical nose, trying to catch the scent of her future mate.

The annual mating parade had been started centuries ago by one of his ancestors to boost the ego of the alphas and remind the others who was in charge. With the change in times and culture, it wasn’t as necessary as it had been back then. He felt the ritual had long outlived its usefulness. It took place every year a few months before mating season so they could peruse the unmated betas and gammas, and so that the parents of wolves who’d recently turned eighteen could present them to the pack alphas for consideration.

Expectation and excitement scented the air as the alphas passed. It was considered an honor to be chosen by an alpha in this way, so it was always quite the event. The unmated wolves would dress up in their finest, and a massive bonfire with food and dancing would take place later that night to celebrate any new pairings that occurred. It happened with enough frequency that the annual parade continued to take place by an almost unanimous vote by the alphas; almost because every year, Preston would vote against it.

He was twenty-eight years old, and in the decade since he’d started taking part, Preston had yet to scent his mate. He’d found plenty of lovers, but they were just betas willing to have a few nights of fun in an alpha’s bed. Preston doubted they even cared whose bed it was, only that it belonged to an alpha. He also doubted this year would be any different, so he’d made no effort with his appearance. Unlike his fellow alphas, who had dressed nicely, Preston wore jeans, combat boots, and a well-worn long-sleeved T-shirt in deference to the late fall chill. Winter, and mating season, would be on them in a few short months.

He made eye contact with a handsome young man in a well-fit gray suit who just might make an enticing plaything for the night. Penny suddenly looped her arm through his elbow. Her excitement vibrated through her, and he glanced down. His twin had always been far more demonstrative in her emotions than him.

“I can smell him, Preston.” Penny beamed up at him with a happiness he’d not seen since they were pups running freely in the forest behind the pack house without a care or worry in the world.

“Who?”

“My mate, Pres. I finally found him. He’s over there.”

She pointed to a group of young men who appeared to be in their early to midtwenties. He recognized a few of them as new arrivals to the pack, which explained why Penny hadn’t scented him until now.

“Congratulations,” he murmured.

“Don’t be so sour about it,” she grumbled as she slapped him on the chest.

“Apologies.”

He hadn’t meant for the envy and jealousy he felt every year during this thing to bleed into his words, but that was apparently beyond his control.

“I was beginning to have my doubts, too, you know. That I’d ever find my mate this way.”

Penny stopped walking, tightening her grip and forcing Preston to stop as well. She glanced over her shoulder. Preston watched a good-looking young man break away from the others and start walking slowly down the street, watching them closely. The gamma wolf would keep his distance until Penny approached him.

“But there he is.” Penny looked back to Preston, smiled beautifully, and began backing away toward her gamma. “You’ll find yours, too, one day. I know it.”

Preston watched as his twin jumped into the gamma’s arms with an excited yip. The crowd around the couple broke out into cheers, clapping and yelling their congratulations as the alpha claimed her mate. Historically, only one or two alphas per year would find their mate during the parade. He was happy Penny was one of them, but it left him feeling more alone than he had before. His younger brother Declan, who walked about fifty feet ahead of him, was still unmated as well, but the rest of his sizable family was paired off and having pups. He secretly craved pups of his own, which would never happen because he was gay, so he played it off as undesirable.

Lost in thought, Preston walked the remainder of the route without really seeing anything. He looked around, but nothing truly penetrated until he neared the end of the route. A powerful, sweet smell drew his attention to the small house set back a little farther from the street than the others. It was the house Preston’s father, the pack alpha, had designated to his right-hand beta, John. John was the lead pack enforcer, the wolf equivalent of a human sheriff.

John and his mate, Joanne, were standing on the sidewalk having a lively conversation with Declan. Their nineteen-year-old daughter, Brittney, was unmated and doing her best to attract Declan’s attention. Enticed by the delicious scent wafting from the house, and the desire to say hello to a long-time family friend, Preston approached the group.

“Congratulations,” Joanne said with a smile as Preston joined them on the sidewalk. “Word has spread that Penny found her mate today. That’s so exciting.”

“Yeah,” Preston agreed, but his mind was short-circuited by the smell. “Are you baking cookies or something? Smells delicious.”

Joanne’s smile fell slightly as she regarded him and answered with a soft “no.”

“You smell cookies?” Declan asked. He sniffed the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

Brittney sidled up to Preston with a coquettish smile. “Maybe your mate is nearby,” she suggested.

“Seriously?” Preston asked, doubt and irritation lacing the word, and moved away from the flirtatious girl.

“Be right back,” Declan told the family and yanked Preston back out into the street. He kept his voice down due to keen wolf hearing, but he seemed to be content that they were far enough away not to be overheard. “Stop being a cynical ass, Pres. You are smelling your mate. If you actually took the time to talk to newly mated couples, they’d tell you that. Hell, go talk to Penny. Or, gee, I don’t know, any of our brothers and sisters.”

Preston took that news to heart and glanced over his shoulder at the enforcer and his family. He shook his head and turned back to his brother. “Brittney is not my mate.”

“Maybe not,” Declan agreed. “But someone nearby is. The way Grace told it, she followed the scent until it got really strong, and the moment she saw Max, she knew. Max tells it different. There’s no scent for the lower ranking wolves, apparently. Max says it’s more of a pull.”

Preston rolled his eyes skyward and took a deep breath. That scent was still teasing his nostrils. He vaguely remembered one full moon several years back when his brother-in-law, Max, had asked Grace if he still smelled sweet to her. It hadn’t made sense to him, and he hadn’t cared enough to ask about it. He’d simply written it off as some lovey-dovey mate talk he wanted no part of.

“Smells heavenly?” Declan asked softly. Preston snapped his attention back to his brother. “Because the look on your face…”

“Heavenly’s a good word for it.”

Declan put his hand on Preston’s shoulder and smiled. “Let’s go identify your mate, big brother.”

Preston was both exhilarated and terrified by that idea, but he allowed Declan to steer him back toward the house. The closer they got to the small bungalow, the stronger the scent became until Preston was certain that his mate, if all that talk was true, was inside the house. He studiously ignored Brittney and her hopeful expression. A quick glance at Joanne showed she was optimistic his mate would be Brittney as well. He focused his attention instead on John. The older man lifted his eyebrows in question.

“Who’s inside the house?” Preston asked.

John shook his head, clearly confused. “My nephew.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot he was coming to live with you for a while,” Declan said. “How is your brother doing?”

Annoyed by the conversation his brother struck up with John, Preston sighed. Yes, it was sad John’s brother had lost his wife and second son in childbirth, but that wasn’t what Preston was interested in right now. Preston edged past the men as they conversed, his sole focus getting into the house. He eased the front door open and was immediately overwhelmed by an intense, delicious scent that made his mouth go dry and his nerve endings zing. Preston hadn’t known who or what to expect when he stepped into the bungalow, but it wasn’t the adorable, dark-haired boy sleeping on the sofa.

Preston couldn’t take his eyes off the miracle that lay before him. He squatted beside the couch and took in the sight. The air in the room shifted as the others joined him, but he didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge them. He watched in utter fascination as the boy stirred, waking up slowly, and then locked eyes with him. The kid didn’t sit up or shift his position on the sofa, but Preston saw the mate recognition spark in the boy’s chocolate-brown eyes. Preston smiled.

“Hey there, cutie,” he murmured. “What’s your name?”

“Dylan,” the boy answered. Dylan held Preston’s gaze as he pushed himself upright and folded his legs beneath him.

Preston nodded as he rose to his feet. His intention to sit beside Dylan on the sofa and get to know him was sidelined when Declan slammed him back against the wall.

“What the hell?” Declan whispered, looking at Preston intently.

“He’s my mate,” Preston answered, glancing at his brother in confusion before returning his attention to Dylan’s dark eyes.

“Shit,” Declan breathed.

“No!” John barked.

John stepped in front of Dylan, blocking Preston’s view of him. Preston bared his fangs as he growled at the beta who dared stand between him and his mate. The beta looked nervous, but he didn’t back down.

“I’m sorry, alpha,” John said, lowering his eyes in deference to his superior, but he didn’t move. “You can’t have him. He’s only twelve.”

The mate scent was overpowering, but the longer the beta blocked Preston’s view, the quicker his senses returned. And John’s words were finally able to sink in. He’s only twelve. Intense anger and revulsion blasted through him, and he shoved Declan away. Preston surged from the house and stalked toward the forest as the rage boiled beneath his skin. His human psyche and his wolf both howled at the injustice, the unfairness. Why would fate lead him to Dylan, his mate, when he was still just a child? What had Preston done in his life to deserve such cruelty? Needing to take his anger out on something, he went to his favorite hunting spot in the woods, undressed, and shifted. He needed to kill something.

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NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Kay lives in Colorado with her husband and their animal children. Family is important to her so there are weekly visits to her parents and frequent text messages with her brothers. She has a severe addiction to coffee and Mexican food. She loves to read and write and can easily become consumed by it for hours, much to the dismay of the husband and dogs. On occasion, she can be convinced to venture out into world of the living.

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Release Blitz: Teacher’s Pet, Volume Two by Lee Welch, Elizabeth Coldwell, Elna Holst, Riza Curtis, Danielle Wayland, Karmen Lee, Morwen Navarre, Maryn Blackburn (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Teacher’s Pet, Volume Two

Author: Lee Welch, Elizabeth Coldwell, Elna Holst, Riza Curtis, Danielle Wayland, Karmen Lee, Morwen Navarre, Maryn Blackburn

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: October 22, 2018

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Female/Female

Length: 75900

Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal, Historical, fantasy, magic, historical, college, contemporary, grief, bdsm, athlete, friends to lovers, vacation, cleric, holiday

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Featuring

Eight Stories of Lessons Outside the Classroom

A Spell for Master Vervain by Lee Welch

Finding the Words by Elizabeth Coldwell

The Silent Treatment by Elna Holst

One Small Step by Riza Curtis

Shedding Doubt by Danielle Wayland

Academic Temptations by Karmen Lee

The Sidhe’s Apprentice by Morwen Navarre

Press “Copy” to Begin by Maryn Blackburn

Blurbs

A Spell for Master Vervain by Lee Welch
Apprentice magicians aren’t supposed to fall for their masters, but after a year of longing, Kit is desperate for Master Vervain. Kit casts a forbidden spell to raise an incubus doppelganger of his master—oh, the things he’ll do with that incubus! But Kit’s invoking forces he can’t control and anything can happen when love and magic are mixed.

Finding the Words by Elizabeth Coldwell
On a simple night out, Brendan’s life changed forever. He gave up college lecturing for the world of private tutoring. He may be a virtual recluse, but at least he’s safe. When student Zack approaches him for help with understanding poetry, he’s reluctant to take him on, afraid any connection to his old life might stir up the memories.

Being around Zack awakens long-buried desires in Brendan. He wants to act on his impulse to get closer, but he needs to find the words to say how he really feels.

The Silent Treatment by Elna Holst
Reverend Jane Sinclair has been preaching nothing but fire and brimstone lately. After being dumped by her long-term partner, her mood has been going from bad to worse, and it deteriorates further when her vicar strong-arms her into going off on a yoga retreat. Once she arrives at Serenity Farms, however, the sultry and playfully dominant yoga instructor soon has her singing quite a different tune. A very, very quiet one.

One Small Step by Riza Curtis
Student mage Ilya regrets not paying more attention in class when he teleports two hundred miles instead of the hundred yards he was supposed to go. Concussed, exhausted, and completely underdressed for the bitter winter weather, Ilya is rescued by the handsome Søren.

Sparks fly between the two mages while Ilya recovers, but Ilya must return home. Unable to use his magic and not skilled enough to attempt teleporting back, even if he could, Søren insists on making the journey with him. But train rides and bandits reveal something more between them.

Shedding Doubt by Danielle Wayland
Twenty-six-year-old Grayson is on a mission to get the most out of his gym membership, but when he goes at it too hard on his first day and slips off the treadmill, embarrassment makes him want to quit. Heath, a gym rat, rushes to his aid and offers to help. Initially suspicious of his motives, Grayson reluctantly accepts his help.

The more time they spend together, the more their friendship grows. They both have internal battles keeping them apart, but a Halloween party might just be the place to have a heart-to-heart.

Academic Temptations by Karmen Lee
Twenty-three-year-old Savannah Archer has kept her sexuality buried for years out of fear of being ostracized by her disapproving community. After getting pregnant in high school and putting off college for five years to raise her son, she is finally attending college—away from the prying eyes.

In her first class of the semester, she meets Anetta Springs, who is not only her professor, but also her academic advisor, and the attraction is immediate. Savannah and Anetta both know that the potential consequences of a teacher-student relationship are life-changing, but a book club and a meddling sister may not give them a choice.

The Sidhe’s Apprentice by Morwen Navarre
For anyone serious about magic, studying with a Sidhe Master is essential. Alistair Brady is very serious, and when he’s chosen at a Calling—a search by the Sidhe for new students—he’s elated. However, his assigned Master, Cianán, doesn’t want a new student and makes it painfully obvious.

Despite Cianán’s disdain, Alistair is determined to learn magic. But Alistair has difficulty finding the place inside where magic lives, and even the simplest spells continue to elude him. He just needs to figure out what’s missing, while trying not to let his growing attraction to the cold and aloof Cianán show. It takes a backfiring spell to show both Alistair and Cianán exactly what’s missing to make Alistair’s magic come alive.

Press “Copy” to Begin by Maryn Blackburn
Dr. Marissa Muniz worked hard to earn her Ph.D., so she is rightfully outraged when she detects plagiarism in the work of wealthy grad student. When Muniz confronts Libby Highsmith, the young woman begs for a second chance.

Ms. Highsmith must propose a new master’s thesis and design a project to serve as punitive measures. Muniz accepts the thesis proposal but balks at the project—a replica of the paddle used in private schools and a contract promising secrecy.

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Release Blitz: Spare Parts by T.J. Land (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Spare Parts

Author: T.J. Land

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: October 22, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 91600

Genre: Science Fiction, space travel, sentient species, robots, spacemen/aliens, humor

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Synopsis

Ugh, organics are revolting. Damp, inefficient, prone to leaking—everything Meteor despises. The last thing he and his accomplices Gloss and Spike want to do is set foot on a planet infested with billions of the horrible things. To add insult to injury, to escape detection while on Earth, they’ve no choice but to disguise themselves as the aforementioned moist bipeds. The indignity is almost more than his circuits can bear.

But there’s no alternative. For centuries, Meteor, Gloss, and Spike were nothing more than three of thousands of robots programmed to serve the whims of a hyper-advanced intergalactic species. If they want to avoid being recaptured by their old owners, they need to find a weapon hidden millennia ago in Earth’s soil. Meteor’s ambitions, however, don’t stop at merely escaping capture. He’s got big plans for the species that built him to be a slave. Big, violent plans. And it’ll all work out perfectly provided he can keep reminding the other two of what they’re on Earth to do.

What they’re not there to do is have fun. But flighty, excitable Spike quickly forgets that.

What they’re not there to do is learn about kissing. But cold, analytical Gloss finds his attention drawn that way regardless.

What they’re not there to do is become human. But Meteor has spent several hundred years bored out of his mind and humans…well, damp as they are, they’re not boring. Which is a problem, because Meteor can’t afford distractions—not with their owners searching the galaxy for them and getting closer every day.

Excerpt

Spare Parts
T.J. Land © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter 1
The Faceless Man

The ship crashed into a mountainside and broke into several thousand flaming pieces.

In retrospect, it would turn out to be the most surmountable challenge the three of them would face that day. They emerged from the wreckage perfectly intact, having been encased in a force field, and quickly set about disposing of the evidence. The ship’s scattered remains were vaporized, which took only an hour. The damage done to the mountain—most noticeably a crater in which the largest chunk of their vessel was lodged—posed a more serious problem. Luckily, the impact had compromised the structural integrity of the rocky outcropping just above the smoldering cavity, and as they were pondering the dilemma, there was a rumble, a roar, and a massive rockslide covered it up.

“Excellent,” said Meteor, his tone implying that this had been his plan all along.

Well, no. Not “his” tone, not really. No human language offered pronouns equivalent to those which they’d used to refer to themselves in their previous lives. They’d decided, when they were teaching themselves the language preferred by those who inhabited this region, to use the pronouns considered appropriate for human men, for the simple reason that that was what they were pretending to be. Of all the skills they’d acquired during the last few months while learning how to pass for humans, this had vexed Meteor the most. Weeks had been spent pacing up and down the ship mumbling “he, his, him” and trying to make the words stick in—hah! Success!—in his head.

Dusting themselves off, they climbed to the mountain’s peak and gazed down at the city in the distance.

“Success, comrades,” Meteor said, spreading his arms as though to absorb the electricity he could sense flowing through every towering structure. After so long hurtling through the black, empty void, it was immensely refreshing.

But for two small facts, any passerby glancing Meteor’s way would have written him off as unremarkable in every respect. He had two arms and two legs, and was of average height, average weight, and average musculature. His dark brown hair was short and its style almost aggressively boring. All that distinguished him from millions of entirely average men was his nudity and his face. To wit: he didn’t have one. While the rest of his body had been covered in synthetic skin, his chin, cheeks, and forehead were all bare, gleaming metal.

Gloss placed a hand on his shoulder, probably less a gesture of congratulations and more a precaution in case their leader, in his enthusiasm, leaned too far forward and toppled off the cliff edge. He did have a face, a brown and narrow one to which the aforementioned passerby would have assigned an age range of eighteen to twenty-one. He was tall and skinny, and his hair fell limply to his shoulders. Because of a glitch in the program they’d used to design their disguises, it was a garish shade of pink. “All seems to be as we expected. Singular yellow sun, singular large oblate spheroid satellite, atmosphere a combination of nitrogen and oxygen, gravity roughly seventy percent of that which we were accustomed to aboard the ship.”

“Why can’t I see anything? It’s all blurry,” complained Spike, who was short with muscles packed into every inch of his small body, beige skin, and a wild crop of black hair that stood straight up in spikes as though in the grip of a potent gel. This, in fact, was the reason behind the name he’d chosen for himself. Unlike the other two, who’d simply named themselves after things they liked—fiery emissaries from the void that destroyed everything in their path and the shine you achieved after a lengthy polishing—he’d felt that his name should in some way match his appearance. An odd notion, but then, there were many things about Spike that Meteor found rather odd.

“This is your first experience of natural light. Did you calibrate your optical receptors before landing, like I told you?” Gloss asked patiently.

“Oh. Right. Okay, now I can see. Wow, the sky’s really blue. Never seen blue like that before. What’re those things?”

“Those are birds. Winged organic lifeforms. Vertebrate. Endothermic. Some species form part of the human diet.”

Spike raised his arm, following their flight path with his fingertip. “That looks like so much fun. Why couldn’t we have disguised ourselves as those?”

“To business!” Meteor snapped. His henchmen occasionally needed encouragement to keep their minds on the task at hand.

“Quite so, leader,” said Gloss, turning to face the city. “The target location is home to six million inhabitants spread across approximately seven hundred square kilometers. Temperate climate, though prone to violent storms in Winter. Prosperous, as human settlements go. That’s all the data we have at our disposal.”

“Initial impression?” Meteor asked.

Gloss made a series of low-pitched clicks. In their language, the sound conveyed ambivalence bordering on mild disdain. “It’s messy. Why are all the structures of varying heights? I dislike that intensely.”

“I think it’s spiffy,” said Spike, who’d grasped the vagaries of human slang more adeptly than the other two. “Ooh—look at that!”

He pointed to the highway that ran into the town’s heart, and the silver and black vehicle shooting down it.

“A motorcycle,” said Gloss.

“I want one.”

“Why? They’re primitive and inefficient. The only advantage they offer is to humans who can’t travel long distances because of their limited physical capacities.”

“Weak bodies. Low energy. Typical organics,” grunted Meteor. If he’d had an upper lip, it would have drawn into a sneer.

They made their way down the mountain. It was slow going. They’d spent ages unlearning the rigid gait that came naturally to them in favor of a more organic walking style, keeping their stances relaxed and their arms loose (“Imagine you’re a bag of greasy liquid,” Meteor had told the other two). By necessity, all their hours of practice had taken place on the ship’s perfectly smooth floor. Emulating human walking on rocky, uneven terrain was a frustrating business.

“We’re going to need to do something about your visage, Meteor,” Gloss observed when they had at last reached level ground, the green fields surrounding the town stretching out in front of them.

“Any ideas?” said Meteor. He was distracted by the unpleasant realization that, as bad as walking on uneven rock had been, the soil beneath his feet was immeasurably worse. It was soft. It squelched, as though the entire planet was one giant organic life-form and he was stepping on its moist flesh. Ugh.

“I might be able to make more synthetic skin if I can get my hands on the necessary materials and equipment. Perhaps instead of all three of us going into the city together, Spike and I should go alone and come back for you when I’ve…”

“No. We’ll remain together at all times, at least until we’ve established a base of operations.”

“Understood, leader. In that case, when we procure clothing, we’ll try to find some sort of cover to place over your head so the humans don’t notice the problem.”

Spike, whose attention had been fixed on a flying insect, gave him a curious look. “Clothing? What’s that?”

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Meet the Author

T.J. Land is a South African writer of erotic romance and sometimes other things. Her main inspirations right now are her plants, Emily Carroll’s art, and her seething hatred for the final season of Downton Abbey. She hopes you’re hanging in there.

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Release Blitz: Life Underwater by Matthew J. Metzger (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Life Underwater

Author: Matthew J. Metzger

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: October 22, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 55300

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, academia, trans, non-binary, agender, asexual, interracial/intercultural, disability/phobia, family issues, #ownvoices

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Synopsis

Ashraf never thought he could fall in love. So when he falls hard and fast for marine biologist Jamie Singer, it’s a shock to the system—in more ways than one.

Even if he can wrap his head around what love is and how relationships work, Ashraf’s not sure this is viable. He’s hydrophobic. And Jamie’s entire world revolves around the sea. What’s the point of trying if so much of Jamie’s life is inaccessible to Ashraf?

But Ashraf has vastly underestimated the pull of loving Jamie. For the first time, he wants to face the water, rather than flee from it. He has underestimated the power of love in making people brave, stupid, or a little bit of both.

Maybe it’s time to take a leap—and sink or swim.

Excerpt

Life Underwater
Matthew J. Metzger © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
He was getting funny looks.

It was an airport. Of course he was. It didn’t matter that he was waiting at the arrivals gate, and he didn’t have a bag. Ashraf always got funny looks in airports.

For once, though, he didn’t care.

Because the flight from Sydney had clicked over to “arrived” nearly forty-five minutes ago. And Australian accents were starting to float out of the tunnel. His phone had already beeped in his pocket twice.

Jamie: Landed safe, see you soon, love you! xxx

Followed, not ten minutes later, by a second.

Jamie: Don’t go to mosque tonight? I want you all to myself. Please? xxx

Six weeks was almost over.

Mosque could definitely wait.

He saw Professor Hanley first, with his customary battered backpack and fresh-from-the-jungle look. The man was a walking biohazard, and ticked every one of the absent-minded professor stereotypes, from the shabby jacket with the patched elbows to the Einstein-after-electrocution haircut. At his elbow loped his research assistant, George, looking like he’d not slept for the whole trip. He probably hadn’t. And behind them, weighed down with souvenirs and suntans, their brand new PhD students, Meg and Jamie.

Ashraf began to smile.

The sight of Jamie, even after six weeks, was as familiar as though it had been six hours. That fluffy beanie hat. The strays of light-brown hair escaping around the edges. The spray of freckles that had eluded the sun cream. The small ears and sharp jaw, where Ashraf liked to trail his fingers down from shell to shoulder and feel the life underneath his touch. The bright, brilliant brown eyes that would dim shyly when he did.

That lit up like fireworks in the dark when their gazes met.

“Ashraf!”

The yell was like coming home. Warm. Wanted. Safe—even if the weight that smashed into his chest was anything but. Ashraf staggered, squeezing tight around skinny shoulders and trying to breathe past the scarf that smothered his face. Legs snaked around his thighs and clung too. He hadn’t had a four-limbed hug in six weeks, and he never wanted to put them down.

But he did.

If only to catch both arms around a lean back, and kiss them.

Fists clutched at the front of his jacket. That beautiful face turned up into his own. Feet pushed up into perfect ballet points, and Ashraf could have stayed right there, holding his entire world in the circle of his arms, holding that weight like it was nothing, forever.

Even if he wasn’t allowed.

The kiss was broken by a laugh, a nose rubbing against his own, and the brightest eyes in the world.

“Welcome home, Jamie.”

“Missed you,” Jamie enthused and wriggled against his chest as though hugging, without actually putting their arms around him. “What are you doing here? I was all set to surprise you at work!”

“I win,” Ashraf said simply and squeezed. Jamie squeaked, coming up off their feet entirely. “I borrowed Tariq’s car.”

“Oh my God!”

“So do you need to go back with the others, or…”

“Or,” Jamie said firmly and bounced up on the balls of their feet again to deliver a short, sharp kiss. “Let me just say goodbye. Stay right there. Right there!”

Ashraf obeyed. He couldn’t stop smiling. He was getting funny looks again, but for an entirely different reason. Six weeks had been hard—but harder than he’d realised when Jamie smiled like that. Missing them had turned into a sharp, awful pain just with that one smile, and Ashraf didn’t even like the ten feet that parted them as Jamie ricocheted around the others, collecting hugs from Meg and the professor, and pompously shaking George’s hand before dragging him into a hug too.

So when they came back, still wearing their entire personality on their face, Ashraf reeled them in by the jacket and locked his arms around the small of their back.

“Hello,” Jamie whispered against his mouth.

Ashraf silenced them, but only briefly before the laugh spoiled it, and Jamie was nuzzling his cheek.

“You’ve not shaved.”

So?

“I like the bearded look. Very professorial.”

Good.

“Bet Tariq doesn’t know you borrowed the car to pick me up.”

Nope.

“Bet he’d be pretty upset to get sin all over it too.”

Probably.

“Want to get sin all over it?”

“Yes.”

A smile creased against his cheek, and teeth gnawed lightly on his jaw before the warmth, the weight, the wonder, pulled away. The loss was staggering. Painful. Too soon.

“Come on,” Jamie said. “Take me home in style.”

Ashraf slid their fingers together and decided to take the scenic route.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Matthew J. Metzger is an ace, trans author posing as a functional human being in the wilds of Yorkshire, England. Although mainly a writer of contemporary, working-class romance, he also strays into fantasy when the mood strikes. Whatever the genre, the focus is inevitably on queer characters and their relationships, be they familial, platonic, sexual, or romantic.

When not crunching numbers at his day job, or writing books by night, Matthew can be found tweeting from the gym, being used as a pillow by his cat, or trying to keep his website in some semblance of order.

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Blog Tour: Commitment Collection by Karen Botha

 

Title: Commitment, A Gay Romance Series Collection

Series: Buckle Up #1, G-Force #2 & Jump Start #3

Author: Karen Botha

Publisher: Self-Published

Release Date: October 18th

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 612 pages

Genre: Romance, MM Romance

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Synopsis

On the road of life, passion is what drives us, but love makes us stay the course.

Elliott Judd is a superstar race car driver and hotter than hell. Men and women fall at his feet and he enjoys the easy pickings.

Kyle Beaumont, a straight mechanic with a body to die for, joins the racing team of his dreams with his mind fixed on the job.

But as the racing seasons come and go, these men realize they might be racing to the same trophy, each other. With their physical and emotional exploits driven to new depths, they face devastating disruptions when the past crashes into them. Are their feelings for each other enough to keep them on the right track?
Find how passion and lust turn to love, and whether these driven men focus on happiness in the journey or the destination in this hot, sexy three-book m m romance series.

Download your copy of this gay romance series, Commitment Collection 1 – 3 now.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

This Commitments book is part of a fiction series of m/m gay romance books. The books included in this lgbt romance collection are the first three books; Buckle Up, G-Force and Jump Start. The rest of the mm romance books in this gay series, Ignition, Turbo Charged and Pole Position may be downloaded on kindle or purchased separately as paperbacks.

Buckle-Up #1

Passion, lust and desire are the fuel that drives us. So, buckle up for the ride of your life.

Elliott Judd is a superstar race car driver and hotter than hell. Men and women fall at his feet and he enjoys the easy pickings. No one has tamed this wild stallion, but is he ready to settle down for the right person?

Kyle Beaumont, a straight mechanic with a body to die for joins the racing team of his dreams, and with his mind fixed on the job, he doesn’t realise that he is Elliott’s next trophy of choice.

As the racing season and the fight to be the world number one starts, so too does Elliott’s game of seduction.
Will Elliott crash and burn, or will Kyle succumb to this gorgeous man’s onslaught?

Buckle Up is the first book in a gay romance series by Karen Botha and a story of unlikely love.

G-Force #2

Love breeds intensity.
Intensity breeds passion.

Recovered from a life-threatening accident, Kyle Beaumont is a powerhouse who is eager to show Elliott Judd just how far he can push his hotter than ever physique. Their physical and emotional exploits are driven to a depth neither has ever experienced with anyone else.

As a racing driver superstar, Elliott loves handling power, and he’s geared up for taking everything Kyle throws his way. In fact, he craves it. But, when the past smashes into their lives, is the couple prepared to handle possibly devastating disruptions?

Set in a world of fast cars, intense love, and a burning desire to win at all costs, this is a love story brimming with unbridled lust. Join Elliott and Kyle as they race their demons to the finish line in hopes of taking home the ultimate prize-their undying love.

Jump Start #3

Falling in love is easy.
Making it work, well, that’s where the fun begins.

Falling in love with Kyle Beaumont helped Elliott Judd find a romantic piece of himself he didn’t know existed. The two men take the next step in their relationship when Kyle moves into Elliott’s place, but despite the passion he feels for his talented mechanic and lover, the scorching hot race car driver suddenly feels out of place in his own home.

Kyle adores Elliott, and thinks of him as the love of his life he didn’t see coming. But calling a mansion home and fitting into Elliott’s space is more of a culture shock than he’d anticipated.Join Kyle and Elliott as they adjust to sharing their lives with one another, both in and out of the spotlight. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you’ll wonder if these two will ever get it right.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Karen Botha was born in Lincolnshire England where her father was in the royal air force. As a young girl she always had a passion for reading and writing. Working most of her adult life in digital marketing didn’t leave her much time to pursue her passion for stories. at the age of 36 She retrained for a reflexologist and started working for herself. This helped her free up more than enough time to enjoy a re-found passion for writing.

Her first novel was inspired by true life experiences and tales from clients. But don’t believe everything you read.

She enjoys traveling rugby and motor sport, this gives her inspiration and ideas for her books.
The first in the new lgbt series is a mm romance novel about a racecar driver and his mechanic.
She currently lives in London with her Husband and rescue dog called Shadow.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail | Instagram

Tour Schedule

10/22 – Divine Magazine

10/23 – MM Good Book Reviews

10/24 – The (Really) Naughty Corner

10/25 – Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author

10/26 – My Fiction Nook

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Release Blitz: Legacy Strain by Taylor Brooke (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Legacy Strain

Series: Isolation, Book Three

Author: Taylor Brooke

Publisher:  NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: October 15, 2018

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Female, Male/Male, Female/Female

Length: 61100

Genre: Science Fiction, New adult, sci-fi, romance, menage, polyamory, captivity, super-soldiers, dystopia, PTSD, trauma, medical experimentation

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Synopsis

War is on the horizon.

After fleeing the white-walled labyrinth where Brooklyn and her friends were caged, trained, tortured, and studied, the group of renegade Omens prepare for the fight of their lives. But an unexpected arrival from Kirin—the dangerous, secret project Juneau has kept locked away in Isolation’s main facility—complicates things.

Despite the rumors surrounding Kirin’s loyalties and capabilities, Brooklyn decides to make an alliance. Together they form a plan to rescue their friends and take down Isolation once and for all.

Julian Matsumoto is strung between two sides of his heart.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and freedom always has a cost. Julian doesn’t know if he has what it takes to pay the price, especially if that price is Kirin’s life. But the Legacy Strain is being weaponized and they don’t have time to waste.

This is their only chance to escape Juneau Malloy for good, and Brooklyn Harper has been fighting for too long to back down now. Armed with deadly skills and a hunger for vengeance, the Omen Operatives set out on a risky mission to eradicate Isolation, contain the volatile Legacy Strain, and earn the freedom they’ve been chasing since Camp Eleven.

Excerpt

Legacy Strain
Taylor Brooke © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
They buried Plum in the garden.

Rain had softened the ground. Nicoli threw seeds into the dirt with her and said a prayer. Brooklyn couldn’t concentrate on anything. Not the shovel she held or the blood on her hands or the pile of soldiers drenched in gasoline on the other side of the house. Cambria had stopped crying a few minutes ago. They put a bundle of flowers on the mossy mound that served as Plum’s grave. Nicoli didn’t ask for help burying Michelle, but Brooklyn shoveled with him anyway.

Smoke rose from the pile of soldiers they’d killed and Isolation had abandoned, scented like rubber and skin and hair. They had no identification. No phones or pictures or wallets. One wore a rosary, but that was all. Brooklyn and the others waited for a few hours, wondering if the sirens wailing in the distance would grow closer. They didn’t. No police. No other soldiers. No Surrogates. No one came.

Isolation had left them behind.

Brooklyn had no idea what the next move would be—Isolation’s or her own.

“I’m sorry,” Nicoli said. He sprinkled flower petals over Michelle’s grave. “You know that, right?”

Brooklyn didn’t say anything until he looked at her. “Are you talking to your sister or me?”

“You.”

She listened for chatter. There was none. She listened for doors slamming, plates shattering—for Dawson’s anger. But it was quiet. “Was it true what Kirin said? She would’ve killed us?”

“She would’ve tried to.” He didn’t have much left to lose, but his audacity still surprised her. “Michelle was as right as she was wrong a lot of the time. She didn’t think any of you were capable of having normal lives, doing normal things.”

“We did have normal lives,” she said, tempering the heat in her voice. “We did do normal things.”

“Yeah, you did. Then they took you, and they trained you, and now we’re burying my sister and my best friend, and we’re burning bodies in the backyard.” His gray eyes fixed on her. “What’s next, Brooklyn? How does this end?”

Would knowing make the situation easier? Probably not. She didn’t know if they would make it out of this alive, if they would get Porter back in one piece, if they would get him back at all. She didn’t know if they had what it took to take down Isolation. She didn’t know if Kirin was on their side or his own. Brooklyn didn’t know a damn thing.

“It ends when Juneau’s dead and we’re free,” Brooklyn said. She didn’t know if that was the truth, but she thought it had to be. “You should find somewhere safe for Cambria and Lance. They’ll keep hunting us, and people will probably die. I’d rather it not be you.”

“That’s not an option,” Nicoli said.

“It is now.”

Brooklyn walked away before Nicoli could argue with her. She couldn’t force him to go, but she wouldn’t be happy if he stayed. They had targets on their backs. Blood on their hands. There was no good way out of this, no peaceful resolution.

She found Dawson in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter with a bottle of bourbon tipped against his lips.

“You won’t find him at the bottom of that bottle, D,” she said.

His cobalt eyes met hers as he took another swig. He sucked in a sharp breath after he swallowed. His voice was liquor-rasped, low and scathing. “Won’t know ’til I get there, right?”

A heartbroken Dawson was the worst Dawson.

Brooklyn rolled her eyes. She hung her head back and stared at the ceiling. Blood speckled the walls. Remnants of the smoke bombs still lingered. She smelled burning skin, sour bodies, and the hard bite of the liquor on Dawson’s mouth.

Porter was gone.

Porter was gone.

Amber sat cross-legged on the couch beside Cambria. Rayce was outside with Gabriel and Lance, making sure the gasoline and the flames did their job. She had no idea where Julian had gone with Kirin—she didn’t care. Dawson kept drinking. Brooklyn kept breathing. Everything around her continued to fall apart, bit by bit.

She didn’t think they would ever be the hunters. Despite how powerful they were—because of how powerful they were—they would always be the hunted.

“Dawson,” Brooklyn said, barking his name. He didn’t bother looking at her this time, just tipped the bottle against his lips and walked away. His boots made hard sounds on the tile then the stairs. A bedroom door slammed seconds later.

“You should let him be, Bambi.” Amber sighed from the couch. Her leg was messed up, cut by debris and caked in dried blood. Cambria tended to her with a wet washcloth and a thick bandage. “We all know Dawson’s the cold and quiet type. Pushing him might not be the best idea right now.”

“If he doesn’t keep it together, who will?” The question was low under her breath. If Amber had heard her, she pretended not to. Brooklyn appreciated that. “Rest for a while, okay? We’ll figure out a plan tomorrow morning. We need to eat, sleep… Just… I don’t know, we need to breathe for a minute.”

Cambria cleared her throat. “I don’t know what we’ve got left in the pantry. The smoke probably contaminated the fresh stuff. I think there’s bread in the fridge, maybe some fruit. We’ve got canned veggies too.”

“Good,” Brooklyn said. “We’ll make do.”

She listened for sirens. For gunshots. For helicopter wings.

The property was quiet and forgotten. They’d buried their dead. Brooklyn glanced out of the shattered window over the sink. Gabriel stood in the middle of the backyard, staring at the sky. They’d come this far, and they now they had to go back. Brooklyn watched fractured light bounce off Gabriel’s shoulders and nose and chin and saw the dark remnants of blood on her knuckles.

Purchase

NineStar Press, LLC | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Taylor Brooke (she/they) worked as a special effects makeup artist for many years before she wrote her first book. When she’s not writing, she’s exploring the Pacific Northwest, backpacking, or reading. She is the author of The Camellia Clock Cycle and writes #ownvoices Queer books about love, secrets and magic.

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Release Blitz: Faith by Archie Hellshire (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Faith

Series: Graphene, Book Two

Author: Archie Hellshire

Publisher:  NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: October 15, 2018

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 30100

Genre: Contemporary, college, friends to lovers, scientist, athlete, political

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Synopsis

Tuck is switching dorms. He’s had enough of his roommate’s odd hours, strange behavior, and teasing from his football teammates, who think there’s something more between them. He’s just put the last pad into his duffel bag when the campus goes on lockdown and the police swarm in.

They say that Tuck’s roommate, Sam, is a wanted man, but Tuck knows better. Sam is no criminal; he won’t even let Tuck kill spiders. Tuck takes a risk and helps Sam escape from the clutches of the authorities, and together they try to make it off the campus. As they try to evade the search parties, it becomes clear that they’re after something more than Sam; a secret project Sam’s been working on that has billion-dollar implications.

Tuck’s not sure what’s going on. He’s not sure what the truth is or who to trust. He’s not sure they’re going to make it out of this. And as the night wears on, he’s not sure how he really feels about Sam anymore. Sam is always sure about Tuck, though, and Tuck isn’t going to let him down.

Excerpt

Faith
Archie Hellshire © 2018
All Rights Reserved

When humans lacked knowledge, they made do with having faith. Our ancestors ventured into the uncharted wilderness, armed only with pointed sticks and confidence that they could fight off anything with pointed teeth. Generations later, someone made a gamble that if a plant grew where it fell, then it should grow where it was planted and be just as edible, thus giving birth to agriculture. The age of exploration dawned when the first mariners set sail for the horizon, fairly certain it wasn’t a waterfall. As history progressed, people attempted more daring and complex endeavors, fueled by the belief that they would, at the very least, survive. Knowledge may be the substance of progress, but faith is the duct tape.

More than anything else, we have, as a species, progressed because of our faith in each other. Our ancestors hunted in packs to bring down larger prey, trusting that the guy they were hunting with wouldn’t kill them so they didn’t have to share. Legal systems were constructed on the premise that enough people would obey the law that sorting out the remainder wouldn’t be a problem. Civilization is built on the basic philosophy that people will be good to each other, people will help each other, and people won’t kill each other when it suits their interests, not usually at any rate.

Unfortunately, faith has a dark side. Wars have been started because one side believed they could win. The different religions of the world have been in an ongoing disagreement about who’s going to heaven and why; sometimes these disagreements have escalated to the point where they found out the hard way. People have murdered, pillaged, and swindled when they thought they could get away with it. Careless hearts have fallen in love with uncaring people.

Faith is a power that lends itself to good just as easily as it lends itself to bad.

It was in the early evening in one fair city, the power of faith was being abused to its breaking point as a group of UFO researchers was convening on the rooftop of a warehouse. On the spacious tar flats high above the city, with a few of the more ambitious stars already visible in the failing light of dusk, men and women set up a complex array of antennae and computers. The less technically minded among them set up a craft services table featuring on-theme menu items like Cattle-Mutilation-Sloppy-Joes and Little-Green-Men-Guacamole.

They were motivated by a bone-deep belief that if they set up their mobile receiving station at just the right time and listened carefully, they would win the electrodynamic lottery and hear a broadcast from an alien world. Tonight, their faith was rewarded by a brief jolt of excitement, followed by a slow stab of inevitable disappointment.

“Oh, lordy!” cried Calvin, looking at the monitor, where the interface displayed a wildly jiggling radio wave. “This is it! We’re receiving a signal!” He reached over to a different machine and flipped some switches with well-practiced speed.

“We’re recording!” he announced, pressing is face up against the screen to make absolutely sure he wasn’t missing anything. “Oh, lordy! This is incredible!”

Susie walked over, shaking her head in exasperation.

“Are you sure it’s extraterrestrial?” she asked, trying to get a view of the graph from around Calvin’s head.

“Of course, I’m sure!”

“It’s just that you were sure last month,” she said. “When you spent four hours recording a Finnish talk show.”

“This is different!” he protested.

“And the week before that, when you followed a UFO with your car.”

“This is completely different!”

“And you followed it to the state line before you realized it was a crack in your windshield,” she finished.

“This is…ow, ow, ow,” he cried, as an older, bulky man pulled gently but firmly on the tuft of hair on Calvin’s temple, prying his face away from the monitor.

The newcomer surveyed the image for a second before a look of disappointment settled on his grizzled face.

“Is it extraterrestrial, Moe?” Susie asked, a faint note of hope in her voice.

“Nah, that’s terrestrial,” Moe said finally. “I saw it before, when I was in the Air Force.”

“At Area 51?” asked Calvin.

“I keep telling you, I was stationed in Britain.”

“Well, that’s what you say…”

“It’s a frequency jamming signal,” Moe finished. “They broadcast noise over various bandwidths and try to block transmissions.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” asked Susie, eyeing the monitor suspiciously.

“Because they’re trying to cover something up!” declared Calvin.

“Or some jamoke is trying to keep people from using cell phones in his store,” said Moe. “But keep recording,” he added, before walking away. “This night won’t be a total loss if we can document a felony.”

But this story isn’t about them. It just occurs near them. This story is about faith. The faith one man had in another, what that faith led him to do, and how that faith changed the person it was bestowed upon.

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Meet the Author

Archie Hellshire is an author with aspirations of being able to write. He was born in the Caribbean where he developed a love of nature, the metric system, and high temperatures. In school, lacking any athletic or social ability, he became a very bookish person, indulging in the works of Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, JK Rowling, and Charles Dodgson. Despite being well read, he struggled with dyslexia and would forever remain horrible at spelling. The advent of Spell Checker reignited his dreams of becoming an author.

Archie grew up in a family and culture that was not tolerant of homosexuals, and he spent his entire young life in the closet, retreating into his books and a rich fantasy life. In the theater of his mind, the romances he read could be edited to be male couples. He dreamed of one day writing his own stories and living his own happy ending.  You can connect with Archie on Twitter.

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Release Blitz: All the Dogs are Dancing by J.M. Goguen (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  All the Dogs are Dancing

Author: J.M. Goguen

Publisher:  NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: October 15, 2018

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 85600

Genre: Paranormal, Romance, paranormal, gay, dystopian future, shifters, vampires, wolves, pack dynamic, AI

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Synopsis

Burner’s world revolved around three things: protecting the wolf pack of Maine, keeping an eye on his best friend Aaron, and helping prepare enough summer food to take on the long road to Quebec for the winter months. But in the ruins of an old shopping mall on a hot summer night, his world crashes.

Now Burner has to face monsters he thought were just stories told to scare pups, and he must traverse a world he’s only seen in old magazines. Meanwhile, his best friend Aaron is dealing with monsters of his own and Burner will do whatever it takes to keep them both safe, even if it means finally admitting how he really feels.

Excerpt

All the Dogs are Dancing
J.M. Goguen © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
East Coast of Maine, Summer, twenty years after the Darkness

Crickets chirped in the background of the campfire’s light. The aroma of hot, dry grass, charred fish, and wild dill filled the air. Five boys ranging in ages from four to eight sat huddled together, watching intently as scarred fingers expertly checked the skewered fish. It was a simple lesson; an easy cooking strategy when out in the wild. Eating raw fish could result in sickness, or worse, death. Teaching the boys early on how to cook would save them trouble later should they get separated or wander off.

It was one of the first things Fern taught me, and he was teaching the boys of the pack. Without burning his fingers, Fern squeezed the sides of the fish, and the boys shifted, glancing at each other. They were hungry, their stomachs grumbling loud enough that even I could hear them from my spot several feet away, but Fern needed them to focus before they ate, as sleep would come too easily with a full belly, and they needed to learn the dangers in the world.

“Do you know who the Deadwalkers are?” Fern’s voice rumbled up from deep in his chest. With his scarred face, straggly white hair, opalescent yellow eyes, and broken-fanged grin, Fern looked frightening, at least to the young pups. They just hadn’t seen him fight yet.

“They aren’t real,” Riley said. His gaze was fixed on the fish, and without looking, he shoved another boy who had crept closer to the fire away. Riley was a young pup, new to our pack this summer, and the first time away from his mother too.

A smile spread across Fern’s face, the sight of his fangs causing the boys to inch away. “Oh, but they are. You see, they live in the old cities, in buildings taller than the water tower in the Old Town, and they devour everything in their path…”

“Mom always told me they weren’t real,” Aaron whispered to me.

Aaron and I were several feet away from the boys to the side of the campfire. Close enough to see clearly, but far enough that the boys ignored us. We weren’t as nearly as interesting as Fern or the food, but we were to set an example to the boys on how to behave. At least, that’s what Fern had told me when I made the fire while Aaron cleared the area for us to sit.

I glanced at Aaron. He was curled in on himself, his knees drawn close to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. His black hair was peppered with white streaks as the result of a sickness he’d had before he turned Wolf. “Mom told me they were stories to scare the new pups, to keep them from wandering off at night,” he murmured.

“You didn’t wander.” My fishing net was on my lap. I was trying to fix the large hole a lobster had made that morning with some cord I’d found in one of the nearby huts. It seemed like something was always breaking and needing repairing. Thankfully the moon was almost full, and the additional light helped me to see what I was doing.

“Burner, you always wandered,” Aaron said, and for the first time in two months since his mother passed, he chuckled. “Fern always had to go hunt you down, and then Den Mother would be pissed off at him for losing you.”

I tried not to smile because it was true. I’d wander off to the Old Town and when Fern would catch up to me, we would walk around the buildings and houses. He would tell me stories from his childhood, about the old world.

I always thought it sounded like a horrible, boring, dead world.

“Fern told me once that most of his scars came from Den Mother,” I joked. I twisted the cord and net together with practiced ease, tying them in a knot.

Aaron laughed, really laughed, the sound carrying into the sky and echoing amongst the silent trees. I was glad to see a part of my friend was still alive inside. It made me smile too.

“Do you two think Deadwalkers are a joke?” Fern demanded.

The young pups were watching us, their trance on the fish, and Fern, broken.

Aaron and I shared a look.

“No, Alpha, they are as real as you and me,” I said. There was no laughter in my voice. No humor, just the firm, unquestioning tone Fern expected me to have when we spoke of pack matters.

Satisfied, Fern nodded. He picked up one of the skewers, examining the fish closely. The pups returned their attention to Fern, or rather, how he was testing the fish. He started speaking again, and Aaron waited a few moments before he leaned closer to me, his breath tickling my ear. “Do you think they are real?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen one, not even in the Old Town.” I ducked my head, pretending to pick at the net.

Aaron stared at the fire, falling into silence. I peeked sideways at him when he suddenly sniffed, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. “I miss Mom,” he choked and buried his face in his crossed arms.

I looked hopelessly at Fern. When he saw Aaron, he motioned for us to go. Net in hand, I stood up and squeezed Aaron’s shoulder.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” I soothed.

“I don’t want to go home.” Aaron stood. His right hand was cupping his eyes, his lips downturned.

Wordlessly, I let go of his shoulder and took him by the hand. Together, we left the campfire and slipped into the dark of the night.

Purchase

NineStar Press, LLC | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

J.M. Goguen is a pen name for a Canadian author. A graduate of Simon Fraser University, The Writer’s Studio, and a current MFA creative writing student, she is known to spend more time world building than writing. Growing up with a love of paranormal, horror, romance, and speculative fiction, she will happily chat about topics ranging from interstellar ark ships, werewolves, the zombie apocalypse, and the dangers of lightsabers and space lasers.

Her previous work has appeared in Micro Madness and Emerge 16, and she does manuscript consultations. She lives on the Sunshine Coast of British Columbia, Canada. In her free time, she plays video games, takes too many photos of her cats, and watches the local wildlife.

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