Mar 14

New Release Blitz: Like You’ve Nothing Left to Prove by E.L. Massey (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Like You’ve Nothing Left to Prove

Series: Breakaway, Book Two

Author: E.L. Massey

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/14/2023

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 66200

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, gay, interracial, new adult, sports, ice hockey, uni student, ice skating, professional athlete, physical disability, anxiety disorder, coming out, service dog, cooking/foodies, stanning, social media, hashtags, homophobia

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Description

As the headline-stealing captain of the Houston Hell Hounds, nineteen-year-old Alexander Price has one goal: the Stanley Cup. He’s got the talent. He’s got the drive. But he’s also got an anxiety disorder and his therapist on speed dial. And, oh yeah, he’s gay. And he’s not willing to hide it anymore.

At eighteen, figure skater Elijah Rodriguez has already had his Olympic dreams crushed by an accident that left him with a seizure disorder and an existential crisis. Now a popular vlogger and freshman in college, Eli is trying to figure out what his new future will look like. Which is a little difficult because, oh yeah, he’s dating Alexander Price.

Eli and Alex are happy. It’s sort of a new state of being for both of them. But Eli is out, Alex isn’t, and their very visible “friendship” is already raising eyebrows. They have a plan: Alex will make their relationship public at the end of the season, hopefully with a Stanley Cup in tow. But what happens when that plan is derailed by an overzealous fan who outs them—right before the Hell Hounds’ playoff run?

Excerpt

Like You’ve Nothing Left to Prove
E.L. Massey © 2023
All Rights Reserved

The problem with dating a celebrity is that sometimes they have to do ridiculous things like take a call from their agent on Christmas Eve when they should be cuddling with their boyfriend.

Something about a sponsor and a New Year’s appearance and an upcoming photoshoot that had to be rescheduled? Eli lost the thread pretty quickly. He watches all of Alex’s games and has made an effort to actually understand hockey rules (though what actually counts as goaltender interference is still a mystery to him). He thinks his boyfriending duties are pretty well covered. He doesn’t need to know which jockstrap Alex is currently endorsing or whatever.

So Eli is reading Great Expectations, proud of himself for getting a head start on next semester’s readings, hoping his boyfriend comes to bed soon, and feeling very sleepy. Though that could be the Dickens. Actually, that’s not fair. He enjoys Dickens a fair amount. But Great Expectations is certainly no Bleak House.

He flips the page and glances up as Alex paces into the bedroom from the hallway, where he’s been in and out of earshot for the last half hour.

Eli’s parents are asleep at the opposite end of the house downstairs, and his sister, Francesca, is still awake next door if the music coming through the shared bathroom door is any indication.

“Hey,” Alex says, tossing his phone onto the top of the dresser. “Sorry about that.”

Eli waves Great Expectations at him in a conciliatory manner. “No problem. But since you’re up, I left my Chapstick in the bathroom.”

Alex gives him a fond look that Eli is still getting used to: a little squint, a little crooked smile, a raise of one eyebrow. “Is that a request?”

Eli tries to look as cozy and pitiful as possible. “Please?”

Alex rolls his eyes but slips through the bathroom door and switches the light on, painting the wood floor gold.

“I loved him against reason,” Eli shouts after Alex, “against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

“I already said I would get it,” Alex shouts back. “You don’t need to woo me with Dickens.”

“Ah, but I must always woo you, my love,” Eli argues, affecting a terrible English accent, “With Dickens or otherwise.”

“Can you do your wooing a little more quietly?” Francesca yells from her bedroom.

Eli stifles his laugh in the duvet.

Alex turns off the light, runs into the cedar chest, swears, and then crawls up to flop inelegantly on top of Eli. He tries, very ineffectively, to apply the Chapstick for Eli until, laughing even harder, Eli wrestles it away from him and does it himself while Alex pretends to pout.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs, smudging the words into Eli’s neck, “do you maybe wanna do that thing where you drag your fingernails up and down my back until I fall asleep completely blissed out on oxytocin?”

Eli slides his book and then the Chapstick onto his nightstand and moves his hands automatically to Alex’s shoulders. “How did you know? That’s exactly what I wanted to do.”

“Oh.” Alex makes a point of settling in further before going absolutely boneless. “Well, that’s perfect, then.”

The bruises on Alex’s side look particularly stark when painted in moonlight, and Alex is warm and sleepy and vulnerable. His curled fingers in the periphery of Eli’s vision make Eli’s chest ache in a way he can’t explain with anything other than love. This soft, tactile man, who smells like VapoRub and Eli’s detergent, is so far removed from the visceral, overconfident Alexander Price, whose skill and notoriety sell out hockey arenas. In the dark and the quiet of Eli’s childhood bedroom, it almost feels as if they’re two different people. Except Eli is the only one privileged enough to know this gentle night-time version.

“Mm,” Eli agrees, dragging his nails lightly, so lightly, up the expanse of Alex’s back. “Perfect.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

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

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Mar 11

Book Blitz: Absolute Perfection by Stephanie Burke (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Absolute Perfection

Author: Stephanie Burke

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: March 10

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 153 pages

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Paranormal, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Romantic Comedy, Urban Fantasy, Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, shapeshifters

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Synopsis

Prince Taza is a seahorse, the sole male offspring of the Coushrin king, and heir to the throne. Sounds great, right? Not really. For one thing, two crazy female seahorses are vying to impregnate him and become the next queen of the Coushrin dynasty because seahorses mate for life. He doesn’t want to be just a breeder while his wife rules the seas. But if being the prey and intended brood-stallion of two insane females isn’t bad enough, Taza’s also being chased by a human who’s determined to attain immortality by eating him. Stir fried, easy on the garlic.

What does he do? Flee to a vampire bar on the surface world, where he meets Astika, a Hindu Naga god. Astika’s been dispatched on a fool’s errand, because his advice to his uncle and grandfather’s harems is causing mayhem in the kingdom. He wasn’t supposed to meet a seahorse prince, save his life, and end up mated in the process. But when Astika saves Prince Taza from the human who might just be crazier than the two seahorses chasing him, Taza does the only smart thing and pledges himself to the Naga. For life. Since they’re stuck with each other, Astika might as well see what it’s like with a seahorse. Together, out of the wildest circumstances imaginable, these two lovers create Absolute Perfection.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Stephanie Burke

“You’re a dick, and I don’t think I like you.”

Chris growled the words while leaning with arms braced on his bar.

“I have a mighty fine dick, thank you very much, and I really don’t care what you think.” Astika stared at the bartender as he answered with all the sarcasm he could muster. “I just need some information and some quiet, and in that order.”

“I can tell you the same thing I told your contacts. I don’t have the information you seek no matter what your family told you” — the bartender began to grin a little maniacally — “but boy, do I have the perfect drink for you.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Maybe you should start.” This came from what must be the bastard of a bartender’s wife, the Naga decided. She peeked out from behind the swinging doors to the kitchen before she disappeared again, no doubt to fry up some small, defenseless creature for consumption. “It just might soften your disposition a bit.”

Everyone knew that the vampires who operated this bar worked as a team, and it was said that the female was often more trouble than the male.

“I really don’t care if you do or if you don’t” — the vampire shrugged inelegantly — “but I have to agree with her and say that maybe drinking would improve your attitude.” Chris gave him his words back, smiling as a small frown curved down the corners of Astika’s rather thin lips. “You came into my bar tossing your name and title around and demanding things, Naga, and it’s my job as the best bartender in the tristate area to see to it that you leave with exactly what you need.”

“But not what I want.”

“Buddy, haven’t you heard that you can’t always get what you want?” called a youngish female voice.

Astika felt his frown grow deeper as he looked around the place. There were two small children staring back at him. It was the girl child who had spoken the sarcastic words, her dark eyes glowing as she stared up at him. Her brown hair was styled into two ponytails, and she had the same countenance as Chris, the bearded asshole of a bartender who refused to give him straight answers. She appeared to be around seven or eight — with vampires it was hard to tell the age of their young ones — but her eyes looked ancient.

The boy child was a bit smaller than her, with dark blond hair and green eyes and looked just like the female who’d popped out of the kitchen earlier to add sage bits of advice. The family resemblance was stunning.

But the young male vamp said nothing about the antics of the adults, merely shaking his head at their childish behavior. He absently rolled a chess piece between two fingers before boldly reaching out to the board that sat between him and the small female who could only be his sister. He then blithely moved her queen a box over before making his own move. “Checkmate,” he declared, his face looking as innocent as a preacher’s daughter.

“Cheater!” his sister squawked, turning back to their game, and then the familial arguing commenced as the pair proceeded to ignore the adults once more.

“You make that sound like a threat.” The blue-haired Naga disregarded the goings-on of the young ones and focused his attention on the bartender again.

“It sounds like fact to me.” Chris sucked at his front fangs as he reached for a collection of tall bottles and a metal shaker. “You would do well to listen.”

Then with a few deft moves, Chris made the bottles dance. It was an art form the way the muscular brunet juggled three uncapped bottles, tossing them over his head, behind his back, and twisting them in midair, never allowing a drop to spill where it wasn’t supposed to.

Finally, in short, controlled flicks of his wrist, measured amounts of liquor were poured midjuggle into a tall metal shaker. Once the proper amounts were reached, he flipped the bottles back into their places and took up the metal container.

The bartender capped it and began to shake it gently as he eyed the blue-haired man. After a moment and a few considering looks, he placed the shaker on the bar and retrieved a tall, frosty glass. He poured the pale-colored mixed drink with a flourish. And after a final squirt of juice from his bar gun, he whipped out a cherry from its dispenser and tossed it into the glass before he slid the drink in front of the frowning Naga.

“Not impressed?” Chris asked, flashing just a bit of fang from behind his neatly trimmed mustache as he grinned widely at his customer.

Astika just glared.

“Too bad.” He attempted to sound remorseful and failed. “And I gave you the free show and everything.”

“I don’t drink.”

“You’ll drink this.” Chris chuckled. “After all, it was tailor-made just for you.”

Astika reached out with long, thin fingers and tapped at the condensation beading up on the glass before him. He pulled it closer to himself, eyeing the slightly blue liquid, before inhaling deeply. He raised an eyebrow as he stared at Chris.

“I’m not getting anything out of you until I drink this, right?”

“Smarter than you look.” And from the look in Chris’s eye, his estimation of him put him somewhere between arrogant ass and airhead lackey.

He looked behind Chris to stare at the mirrored wall behind the bar and tilted his head, trying to see what the vampire was seeing.

He had long, flowing deep blue hair — not the electric stuff you find in bottles, but a deep dark blue that had subtle purple highlights. His eyes were beetle black, no light escaping and allowing no emotion to show. His nose was rather aquiline, his nostrils thin and flaring, his face narrow with a slightly pointy chin.

His body gave off a useless-pretty-boy facade as well; he was thin and tall with a model’s body and tight musculature. But most damning was that he was quite feminine in the face. He knew he was the epitome of the word twink. He appeared childlike but was saved from being almost too cute to be male by his height, the thin lips, and attitude.

“Gee, thanks,” he deadpanned before lifting the drink to his mouth. “What is this called, anyway?”

“Well, they don’t have a drink called jackass yet, so I did you one better. This, my friend, is perfect for you. It’s called an Absolut Fucker.”

“I’m not your friend.” The Naga paused with the drink in his hand, nearly to his lips. “And you may call me Astika.”

Purchase

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

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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Mar 07

New Release Blitz: An Echo of Gods by Tallie Rose (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  An Echo of Gods

Series: Briar Constance, Book Two

Author: Tallie Rose

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/07/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 87200

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

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Description

The Gods are back.

Briar knew it wouldn’t be easy dealing with Eliana, but she thought the other Gods might help her. This is their problem, after all. But they don’t want to answer her call, and when they do, it’s always the same answer—blood, sacrifice, loss. All the things Briar doesn’t want to hear.

Still, with Bastianna and her group of Believers breathing down her neck, Briar has to figure out some way to banish the errant Goddess. She just hopes she can do it without losing everyone she loves.

Excerpt

An Echo of Gods
Tallie Rose © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Sunlight caught on the handle of Briar’s drugstore dagger, casting her room in hues of pink and silver, like a grotesque disco ball. She’d had the knife for years, an impulse purchase at the register. It was cheap, its handle made of resin mixed with glitter and delicate flowers, hardly the right choice to call on another God, but using a kitchen knife seemed even worse.

She sighed—and nearly choked on the heady fumes wafting from the marble bowl beside her. Soren had handed her the satchel the day before, saying he picked up the herbs from some overseas religious order and they would help clear her mind. Ten minutes in and Briar was pretty sure she was just burning drugs.

Fingers close to trembling, she picked up the knife and pressed the blade into the crook of her arm until it bit into her skin. Blood pooled and dripped, sizzling against the smoldering herbs. Words, ancient and harsh, spilled from Briar’s mouth and her body tensed. The dagger tumbled from her fingers and clattered against the floor.

She closed her eyes against the smoke, continuing to chant. Her power built until it was pressing on every inch of her skin, demanding to leave. She did not need to open her eyes to know she was glowing once again.

Now, she just needed someone to listen, to give her direction. The Gods had not answered their pleas in the weeks since the attack. They were lost, stuck watching the news every night, unable to help.

“Please,” she murmured into the empty space of her room.

The blood dripping down her arm ceased flowing and her skin stitched itself together. The air in the room grew brisk and an unfamiliar scent hit her nose. Mulled apples, fresh tilled earth, evergreen, and sandy beaches. Somehow it was not unpleasant. She opened her eyes.

The Deity was a vision of the highest order. Buds bloomed in the air around them, swirling and protecting them from Briar’s full gaze. The scene changed: autumn leaves, then summer rains that turned to snow and ice.

Briar’s green eyes locked on to those of molten silver. Their face was a work of art, golden skin, full sensual lips, and high cheekbones. All of it was crowned by flowing coppery-red hair. They smiled and Briar’s gaze dropped. The robe they wore was sheer, doing nothing to hide the swell of their chest or the strength of their arms.

The Deity opened their arms wide, a welcoming gesture, and Briar cleared her throat, feeling anything but pious.

Their nostrils flared and their eyes widened ever so slightly. The falling leaves turned green, and they chuckled and dropped their arms, one hand resting on a hip Briar had just been admiring. “Bold.”

Briar shrugged.

The Deity laughed again, and the buds of roses bloomed in their eyes. Their body changed, hair shortening, legs lengthening, but they didn’t seem to notice. “You requested an audience?”

Blinking to clear the haze from her mind, Briar nodded, enchanted by the beauty before her. “What’s your name?”

“Oh.” Their eyes flicked toward the ceiling as if it was a question they had to think about. “I haven’t spoken to a human in so long. Nilaja. Do you mind?”

Briar had no idea what they were asking but nodded. She’d give almost anything to them if they would help her find something she could use to send Eliana back to their realm, or even better, end her entirely.

With each passing day Eliana’s death seemed a better option. Tensions had grown between witches and fae; fights were breaking out, shootings and murders. The sudden uptick in violence had not gone unnoticed by the general population but no one knew what was causing it. And if anyone had suspicions they only whispered them, the footage of the dead Beishan president too raw in everyone’s minds.

Nilaja dipped a finger into the bowl of herbs and stepped out of the mist as though it was nothing, leaving behind the changing of seasons that had engulfed them. Briar’s breath caught in her chest, and the freshly healed cut on her arm twinged.

The experience of talking to the Gods was something she would never get enough of. Her life had been spent searching for them, and now she had the truth. But could she tempt one to help her? She hoped this God in particular would be the answer she was spending all her days searching for.

As though it was ordinary, Nilaja sat on the ground across from Briar, pulling their legs beside them, their robes fanned out around their body. They waved a hand over the marble bowl and the smoke disappeared. “That is quite vile and wholly unnecessary. It is blood the universe calls for, no drugs required.”

“I’m friends with idiots but I try to indulge them.”

Nilaja chuckled again, the sound like the crackle after lightning. They pressed their hands against the floor, eyes shuddering shut. Briar didn’t know what to feel looking at them. They were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, and power radiated off them. She knew she should be afraid but she was intrigued by them, by how casually they interacted with her.

Power danced in Nilaja’s eyes as they slowly opened them, burning silver like flashes of lightning. “So, Briar Constance, why am I here?”

“We need help with Eliana.”

Nilaja tilted their head and coppery leaves fell from their hair, disappearing when they touched the ground. “You have already spoken to Ivian. You know how she was contained before.”

“There has to be another answer, something that doesn’t involve sacrifice. It’s barbaric. That’s not how the world is now.” She and Soren had gone over it so many times, they’d talked until their conversations were nearly scripted, but there had to be something else. The world, the universe, could not be so cruel.

“Oh, sweets.” Nilaja reached out and brushed their thumb across Briar’s exposed knee.

Her whole body went rigid, every nerve on fire with the power blasting through her. It was pure magic, sharp and hot and intoxicating. She swallowed to keep from crying out, from grabbing them and demanding more, more, more.

Unaware or unmoved by the struggle inside Briar, the Deity continued, “The universe does not care how far you have progressed. It will always be old, cold, and uncaring. You want to stop Eliana, you will do it as your ancestor Cordelia did, by blood and tears. Eliana is too far ingrained in this world for the echo of our powers still left in this place to pull her out. She is a horror, and you will become one if you wish to destroy her.”

Despair pooled in Briar’s stomach.

“Oh, don’t look like that.” Wilted flowers piled in their lap, their petals crumbling to dust. “Maybe there is another way. What would I know, tucked away for eternity? There is much knowledge out there, things you have not dreamed of. I will hope you find another answer, but it is not one I know. We have no knowledge that we are hiding from you.” They stood and the air seemed to go with them.

Briar stood as well, the reverberation of their shattering power still clanging through her. She had so many questions she wanted to ask them. Could all Gods change their form? Did they watch the humans? And was there please, please, another answer? “Can I summon you again?”

Nilaja paused, a feline grin pulling their lips upward. “Why?” They took a step closer, and Briar’s body urged her both to move forward and to run, far, far away from the Deity she had summoned, one whose name she had never heard.

Struggling for words, Briar gave in to her desire, her head still swimming with whatever Soren had given her. Her body ached with each movement, spent from the power but craving more. She stopped a breath away from them. “I don’t know.”

Nilaja pulled at the bottom of one of Briar’s curls. “Well, isn’t that fun. See you soon.” They winked and were gone.

Briar fell backward onto her bed. What in Ortus’s fiery hell had just happened?

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

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

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Mar 07

New Release Blitz: Baby Steps by Gemma Johns (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Baby Steps

Author: Gemma Johns

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/07/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 63800

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, lesbian, sexual discovery, surrogacy, children, Australia, fake romance

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Description

Fiercely independent Belle Andrews can’t quite believe where her life has ended up. Belle and Tash always thought they’d have three children, but after nineteen years and two children together, Tash walked out on her and Belle doesn’t want her heart broken ever again.

Now, two years later, they’ve established a positive co-parenting relationship, and having moved on with their lives, both agree they have no need for the embryos they created together.

Georgia has been trying, unsuccessfully, to get pregnant for many years now. She’s about to give up trying and move on. Her doctor told her that her only hope now is a donor embryo.

Belle expects her embryos are the perfect solution, but she soon learns Australian legislation mandates she can only donate to someone she’s in a relationship with.

Belle might have given up on love, but can she pretend to be in love to give someone their dream? And can Georgia pretend to be in a relationship with a woman to get the end result she’s always dreamt of?

Excerpt

Baby Steps
Gemma Johns © 2023
All Rights Reserved

“I thought Tash had the girls tonight?” Nikki asked quietly so that Cora and Ada wouldn’t hear her.

Belle shook her head. “We did a swap. She had something on tonight, probably with her new girlfriend.” Belle knew she was reinforcing what her best friend Nikki already knew—Belle had well and truly moved on from her nineteen-year relationship.

“She’s really got a new girl?”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Emily, I think she said. I don’t know. It surprised me, because she was so full on with Amanda. I thought they were it. But five minutes after their split, there was a bunch of dates with random women, and now there’s Emily. I really don’t care; it’s none of my business, except for the girls.”

Nikki instinctively looked toward the other room, where Belle’s daughters were going crazy, running and jumping. “What do you mean, except for the girls?”

“You know.” Belle followed Nikki’s gaze. “As long as they’re okay, constantly meeting new women in their other mum’s life. Must be hard.”

“Well, it’s not really constant. Hopefully she’ll stay with this one. She was with Amanda for, what? Two years?”

Belle nodded. “Depends who you listen to, but about that. But that’s half of Ada’s life. It just feels like a lot of change. Anyway, it’s irrelevant to me, and leaves me to date whomever I want.”

Nikki sarcastically stated, “Which you really take advantage of.”

The truth was, Belle had no real desire to date, and although she and Tash had split up over two years ago now, Belle had spent her time focusing on the children. She couldn’t say that Tash didn’t focus on the girls, though. Belle and Tash were fortunate that they managed to co-parent so well together, with very little tension between the two of them. Belle would be lying to say it had always been easy. In the early days, her heart broke every time she dropped the children to Tash. Seeing Tash and Amanda playing happy families just months after her relationship with Tash had ended nearly destroyed her. But, with time and perspective, Belle felt more and more comfortable and sometimes found herself even confiding in Tash at the end of a hard day.

Nikki picked up her plate and empty coffee mug and walked to the sink. “I was going to suggest a movie tonight, because I thought you were footloose and fancy free.”

“Why don’t we watch a movie on Netflix?” Belle asked, and Nikki screwed up her face.

“I suppose. Chances are I’ve seen it.”

Belle knew it was true. Nikki practically lived at the cinema.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Gemma Johns has always loved writing and wanted to write a novel since she first discovered how much she loved reading them. Her older sister told her she needed to ‘live a little’ before she wrote a novel. Years later, Gemma has now lived a lot, so finally decided to put pen to paper. Writing fiction is a part time gig for her, and she has a full time job in academia. Gemma lives in Australia with her wife and their five children. You can find Gemma on Facebook.

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Mar 07

Wrangling for His Love by Hayden West (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Wrangling for His Love by Hayden West

Book 4 in the City of Fountains series

General Release Date: 7th March 2023

Word Count: 18,084
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 83

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
COWBOYS AND WESTERN
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MULTICULTURAL

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Book Description

 

When the dust settles…

Ben “The Dusty Demon” Mooney is a steer wrestler—one of the best in the world—but that title comes at a price, and it’s one that has to do with the color of his skin as well as his preference in partners. An incident at an event is the start of something that quickly turns far more personal, but is he ready for this opportunity and all that comes with it?

Matthew Jigs is harboring a long-time crush on Ben Mooney. Theirs isn’t a world in which it’s acceptable to advertise sexual preference, and if friendship is all he can get, he’ll take it. For now. But Ben’s hesitation makes Matthew try to see things from another point of view. He wants so much, and it seems like Ben is just holding on.

It all blows up and Matthew’s standing alone to pick up the pieces—or is he? Perhaps when the dust settles, everything will be as it should be.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of racism, homophobia, child abuse, sexual harrassment, the threat of violence, and blackmail.

General Release Date: 7th March 2023

Excerpt

The cheers in the arena echoed down the hall to where Ben sat, alone, on a bench. Part of his ritual before he went for his ride. Generally he had his sister out there as his support, but she was out of the country teaching a seminar.

Ben hadn’t realized how much he counted on her to be there, especially after days like he’d had, full of hate-filled rhetoric and more. Most days he was able to shove it where that shit belonged, in the crapper. However, today hadn’t been one of them.

Slumping back against the wall behind him, he stretched out his legs with a groan. It fucking sucked when he wasn’t feeling his night. Didn’t matter. Everyone had a job to do and this was his.

He opened his eyes and listened to the crowd roar. They sure as hell knew how to gather them here in Calgary. He truly did love what he did and made a damn good living at it.

Two brothers who had competed in the team roping event walked up the hall. They both nodded at him.

“Good luck tonight, Ben.”

“Thanks, Tim, James.”

They were good men and he enjoyed seeing them at events. They’d never batted an eyelash that he wasn’t white like a good portion of competitors. He’d met their families and could consider them friends. But he didn’t hang out with them after.

He got up and ambled his way to where his mount waited. Ransom was a quarter horse and Appaloosa-mixed gelding. Ben had seen the horse at auction and had saved him from going to the glue factory. He hadn’t needed another horse at the time but there had been something in the gelding’s eyes that wouldn’t let him leave without him.

After months of getting weight put on him and working with him, Ben had given him a try at being his mount around cattle. The horse had taken to it like a fish to water. He barely needed to hold the reins with this equine, he knew his job so well. Ben was delivered to the same spot every time.

And on the rare occasion he would lend him to another rider—it wasn’t unheard of, just odd for others to ask him for help—Ransom did the same to that rider. Where he’d once been a dull dark color and his white blanket dingy with brown spots on his rump, now the animal shone. No one would think he’d had anything but a great life.

“Ready, boy?” he muttered to his horse as he rubbed his head.

“I think that horse likes anything to do with showing off for the crowd.”

“He does, that’s for sure.” He took an extra moment to get his facial muscles under control before he turned to the one who had just walked up. Bullfighter Matthew Jigs. “How are you doing, Jigs?”

The man stood just under six feet and had a thin, wiry body. He spent his days, or nights, running and distracting bulls during the bull riding when needed, to keep the riders safe. Throwing himself in front of the rider at a moment’s notice.

Right now he wasn’t made up in his makeup, but just in shirt and jeans, his dark brown hair falling forward over one eye.

“Didn’t think you were going to be up here. I hadn’t heard you were coming.” A grin. “I’m good. You?” He sobered. “I heard some of the shit people were saying. You know you’re good here, we’ve got your back.”

Ben wasn’t so sure about that. But the sentiment was almost nice. “Appreciate it. Hadn’t planned on coming until my sister had said she was going to be here, so I came and now she’s out of the country.”

“Love Lorna, always off helping people. What country this time?”

He rolled his eyes. Everyone loved her. “Spain. I think.” He scratched Ransom. “What are you doing over here? I didn’t think you were on this side.” Generally the bullfighters hung out a bit farther away from the steer wrestlers, more near the bull riders.

“He was bringing me!”

That voice was welcome and he turned, arms open, even as the petite bundle of energy shot into his arms. Well, small to him. A woman who was his sister’s best friend.

“Debra, what are you doing here? We’re a sight away from Kansas City.”

She hugged him tight and kissed his cheek. “Lorna said she bailed on you last minute.” Debra Williams, a woman he looked on as his own sister, leaned back and grinned. “So you get me.”

“You came alone?”

“Nope. I’m here.”

“Deacon,” he said with a grin as Debra’s brother stepped into his line of sight. “Good to see you, man. I take it you both met Jigs.”

There were some looks between them all before nodding commenced. Ben wasn’t sure what to make of the look on Jigs’ face as he stared at Deacon. He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Good luck tonight, Ben. I’ll see you later. Good to meet you both.”

Debra, who was still comfortably settled against his chest, waved at Jigs. “Bye! Thanks for bringing us down here.”

“Sure thing.” He ambled off down the hall, not looking back.

Didn’t stop Ben from watching him go until a small throat-clearing reminded him he wasn’t alone.

“Yes?” He looked down at Debra.

She batted her eyelashes. “Nothing. What do you need us to do for you? How can we help?”

“Nothing to do. I’m the fifth out tonight. I’ll get Ransom saddled and wait. Where are your seats?”

“Where Lorna would have sat. Right in the front, you know so everyone can hear me cheering.”

Deacon snagged his sister’s arm and tugged. “We’ll see you after. Knock ’em dead.” Pulling Debra with him, Deacon left Ben alone with Ransom.

Somehow he knew that little spitfire was up to something. But it was brilliant to see them both. Focusing on his upcoming ride, he got Ransom ready. Feeling the emotion in the air and the excitement, his horse had already worked up a lather by the time he was loaded in the chute.

Leaning forward, Ben smacked him on the neck. “No broken barriers tonight, Ransom. Let’s show these people why I’m referred to as The Dusty Demon.”

Ransom’s response was to shift as he gathered himself for his explosive exit. In his peripheral vision on the right, Ben saw the hazer over the barrier. It was one he knew. The man gave him a nod and Ben’s world narrowed onto himself, his horse and the cow he was about to wrestle to the ground.

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About the Author

Hayden West

Hayden West lives in the Pacific Northwest, enjoys being outdoors, and hanging out with friends when not working on the next novella to be released.

Find Hayden at their website and blog.

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Feb 28

New Release Blitz: A City of Hopes Unrealized by Howard Leonard (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  A City of Hopes Unrealized

Series: Seattle City Limits, Book One

Author: Howard Leonard

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/28/2023

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 57000

Genre: Contemporary, Bartender, Established Couple, Friends to Lovers, Humorous, Interracial, Over 40, Therapist, UST

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Description

After ending a relationship that began in an era before social media, Alan finds that good friends, a thriving medical practice, and an abundance of dates with a vast array of intriguing men in progressive Seattle aren’t enough to surmount the shortcomings of his own insight.

From endearing Justin to cultured Bradley, to his fantasy man, Marley, Alan frustrates his friends and therapist by being better at ambivalence than connection. The characters in A City of Hopes Unrealized represent people we all know and, although uncomfortable, may even remind us of ourselves as we try to navigate circumstances we would never choose and might never even envision.

Excerpt

A City of Hopes Unrealized
Howard Leonard © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Green Plaid

If you’ve not yet picked up on it, I’m Alan. I feel like an Alan. Alan is not a very sexy name, but apparently an adequate one. Being single at fifty, I’m rounding down, I didn’t count on my sex appeal to win me a man. To my immense surprise, I was wrong. Who knew a balding, moderately hairy, average height, not too out of shape, older than middle-aged, Jewish professional man would be a “type”? I’m a type. And seemingly a popular one at that. I first hit my stride on this one particular Friday night. This is about my stride.

The story doesn’t begin where most of the plot picks up. It begins at the Boardroom, a man’s bar and dance hall with a hint of a backroom at the urinals. This is Seattle, a city of gay bars without backrooms. Nearing midnight on a Friday, the Boardroom exploded with men. Paying the inflated cover and walking in, I heard the thumping of my heart drowning out the thumping of the music, at least in my own ears. I ordered my standard rum and Coke, a process which took long enough to add to the mystique of the Boardroom by providing a sense of privilege for being able to hand over a ransom-worthy sum of money. Accompanied by fear, I made my way to the lower-level dance floor. Late enough to be packed, dancing meant moving up and down from one’s heels to one’s toes over and over, forcing me to try to not spill my overpriced drink, as the drink and I were being unavoidably knocked around by the beer-drinking crowd. This was a crowd where Friday meant ecstasy as assuredly as Monday would mean missing work to nurse a hangover.

I began my night by standing off to the side of the dance floor, feeling simultaneously unseen and conspicuous, fighting to dismiss that shy little boy from Massachusetts. The moment was one of those where a night pivots one way or another, in this case, toward the dance floor or toward the exit. I expected to be as surprised as anyone as to which way my pounding heart would direct my feet.

Then I saw him, Mr. Green Plaid. I’ll forever picture and fantasize about his shirt. His shirt had green-and-white checks with thin black lines that were illuminated when the disco laser hit him directly. The shirt must have cost him twice what it sold for when new. I imagined that Mr. Green Plaid had found this exact right outfit only hours before in one of Capitol Hill’s seriously overpriced men’s vintage clothing stores.

Green Plaid had the confidence to know his clothes would be the perfect calling card for his night out. His shirt, tucked into tight jeans, cemented in me a fetish that would forever drive my attraction to both the collegiate boy next door and the Wrangler Man. As soon as I saw him, I lost myself in a fantasy of Green Plaid as a twin, one the cute boy next door, and the other a hot Montana cowboy. Then, knocked out of my fantasy by a stumbling patron, I was jarred into an unplanned urgent decision which would soon tell me what direction my thumping heart and conflicted brain would carry my feet.

I did not head for the exit. I continued watching Mr. Green Plaid for several minutes, long enough to hurriedly and self-consciously guzzle my drink. I made my way to the bar, in almost a panic-driven mode, afraid he’d disappear, but much more afraid to be there without a second rum and Coke.

The gamble proved worth it. I got another drink and miraculously found that my previous spot on the side of the dance floor had reopened. Even better, Mr. Green Plaid had left the dance floor and coincidentally stood close by and was himself focused on the dance floor. Over the next twenty minutes, I concocted his life story in my head. More importantly, the man he had been dancing with, and now stood at his side, and with whom he shared an occasional word, likely drowned out by the music, was clearly not Mr. GP’s boyfriend. Their disconnect suggested that this man might be Mr. Green Plaid’s backup plan for the night. In my head, I was certain that GP must be single, at the Boardroom alone, and a bit short on courage, which caused him to stand beside his plan B to avoid the risk of approaching any man who might carry that plan A mystique.

My second drink now history, I surreptitiously moved closer to him with alcohol enhanced chutzpah and self-consciousness. Before my feet were firmly planted, the crowd pushed a man into me, which pushed me into Mr. GP’s left shoulder. We bumped, thanks to my compromised balance. What luck! GP glanced over and didn’t exactly smile, but he also didn’t dismiss me. I knew I had but a few seconds to commit myself to saying something, or the awkwardness would become overwhelming and an embarrassing admission of my inadequacy. So without having the time to indulge my anxieties further, I touched his left shoulder with my right hand. When he leaned in, I asked him to dance. Green Plaid answered by grabbing my right hand, and he led me onto the dance floor.

I fell in love! Mr. Green Plaid hadn’t rejected me. In fact, Mr. GP danced with me without even looking over my shoulder for someone better. Maybe I had become his new plan B, as there would be no convincing me I’d be anyone’s plan A. Yet even as plan B, this was the first moment I considered I might just be a type someone could perhaps possibly desire. At that moment I felt desired.

I’d like to tell you what happened after we left the dance floor, but there’s not much to tell. Even though my latest love and I hardly spoke given the loud music had destroyed any possibility of being heard, his expression reinforced my new beginning. My journey suddenly moved into second gear, and I had a first taste of confidence in my not yet fully drunken state. Shockingly, I might actually have the power to navigate the new and up-to-now terrifying terrain of dating. Perhaps dating could even be fun. I found myself walking home with an unfamiliar and unpracticed resolve, even though I walked home alone. I had a good evening and a new fetish. I had hope.

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Meet the Author

Howard Leonard earned his PhD in Clinical Psychology in 1981. Dr. Leonard and his partner moved to Seattle, Washington, in 1983, where he began a private practice which he maintained for thirty-five years. He chose Seattle in part due to his belief the region would allow two men to legally create a family through the use of surrogacy, something largely unchallenged by gay men in the eighties. He has two daughters, now adults, and one grandchild. Howard and his husband, Robert, live in Palm Springs, California. Writing has become an important part of his life since retiring from clinical practice. A City of Hopes Unrealized is the first novel in the “Seattle City Limits” series. Find Howard on Facebook.

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Feb 28

New Release Blitz ~ Broken by J.B. Knowles (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Broken by J.B. Knowles

Book 1 in the Oathtaker series

General Release Date: 28th February 2023

Word Count: 57,681
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 221

GENRES:

FANTASY
GLBTQI
LESBIAN
ROMANCE

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Book Description


After countless battles as an Oathtaker, Katya is about to face her hardest fight—one for her mind and soul.

Katya Greenleaf has given herself over to the thrill of combat countless times during her years as an Oathtaker. Alongside her mentor Shira, she has sought out evil—pirates, slavers, dark mages and demon hordes. Occasionally, she finds comfort in the company of other females she encounters in her travels, and despite her mother’s best efforts, she has no desire to settle for a traditional elven life and family.

After decades of taking joy from the fight, no matter the odds, Katya leads a group of Oathtakers into a disastrous battle, one which costs the lives of everyone around her, including Shira. Katya survives, but with neither body nor spirit intact, haunted by her life of violence and death in the name of her Oath.

Now, the red-haired warrior will find her greatest challenge in a battle against a different sort of demon—ones that live in her mind and haunt her sleep.

As she heals, Katya is reminded that there is more to life than blood and iron by a compelling human named Lili, who not only catches Katya’s interest, but forces her to re-think her life and her mission.

With Lili at her side, her beloved falcon Fayne on her shoulder and healers encouraging her, Katya sets out to re-discover the warrior she once was and finally confront the truths of what happened the day the world collapsed around her.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and the death of a minor character.

Excerpt

The swamp went against everything Katya had ever learned about choosing a battlefield.

She stood in freezing knee-high water surrounded by small islands of reed-covered sand. Thick mist hung in the air, limiting her vision and rendering her favoured weapon, a crossbow, useless.

The fog was freezing and damp, and despite the enchantments on the leather armour she wore, a chill was creeping into her bones. In that, Katya wasn’t alone. The other members of her party were also complaining about the wet and frosty surroundings.

The swirling mist made sounds duller and flatter, but with her better-than-human hearing, Katya could hear the clicks and whistles that made up the language of the lizard men that were closing in on them. They were savage and bloodthirsty creatures, given to torture and enslaving defeated enemies, fighting to the last with massive clubs of wood and jagged stone axes.

Today it was Katya’s job to lead the fight against this party of lizard men, sending a message from local merchants and crafters’ guilds that it was time the lizards put a halt to their destruction of trade missions and killing of travelling merchants passing through the area, and that their immediate departure from the swamp would be appreciated.

The responsibility weighed on Katya, despite her eagerness to mix it up, and because of this, she was not happy with what was going to be a horrible place for a stand-up fight.

Still, neither weather nor terrain mattered to Katya. Oathtakers didn’t just head into battle when the skies were sunny and pleasant. Dead enemies were dead no matter where their bodies ended up.

The mist beside her parted and Shira appeared, his beard caked with frost. Katya knew her own long hair looked the same, even though she wore it tied back. Function over form was the warrior’s way.

The old ranger gestured with his chin towards the swamp.

“Ugly spot.”

“I’ve seen worse. That garbage pit on the coast? Blah.”

Shira laughed. “I’ll never forget that smell. Nor the rats.”

Katya suppressed the shudder that rolled up her back. Gods, the rats, she remembered. Vile and voracious monsters that had wiped out all the wild animals in a huge area around the garbage dump. When they had moved on to livestock, the farmers in the area were desperate for help. The Oathtakers had answered the call.

The rats had been the same size as large dogs, with yellow eyes and even yellower teeth—one of them had bitten straight through a party member’s leather gauntlet. When all was said and done, everyone in the fray had ended up with scratches and bites from the filthy beasts that needed to be well-cleaned before infection set in.

Their foul bloodstains never had come off Katya’s armour completely, no matter how often she scrubbed them.

“I think the lizards will give them a run for their money today.”

Shira’s face took on the more serious look that Katya was accustomed to—his war-face. “They may, aye. What did our friend in the sky say?”

Katya looked up, straining to see. “I haven’t talked to her yet. Do you want me to call her in?”

“May as well. She’ll have seen all she can by now. No sense in letting her freeze.”

Katya nodded. She pursed her lips and whistled, making an odd yet pleasant musical sound, then waited.

In a few seconds, a dark shadow, one of Katya’s most valuable weapons and allies, plummeted out of the misty sky.

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About the Author

J.B. Knowles

J.B. Knowles has been a lifelong lover of works of fantasy, first creating Katya and the Greenleaf family in high school as roleplaying characters.

After a long career in the fields of justice and mental health, J.B. finally had a chance to build a full world on paper for Katya and to breathe new life into adventures started over thirty years ago.

J.B. is married and has two sons and three dogs who all share an stately old farmhouse in a quiet corner of Canada.

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Feb 28

New Release Blitz: Heart on His Lead by JR Hart (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Heart on His Lead

Author: JR Hart

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/28/2023

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 52700

Genre: Contemporary, Romance, contemporary, family-drama, gay, dog walker, dogs, sibling rivalry, enemies to lovers

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Description

Jobless Julian has been struggling to get his life in order for a while now. When his sister asks him to dogsit, he’s turned off by the idea. For one, he’s never been a dog person. For two, her pampered pooch Sprinkles takes a lot of extra work.

Thankfully, dog expert, former dog trainer, and current romance writer Cole has experience with Sprinkles. Too bad he’s annoying…and cute. Growing closer feels inevitable, but when a sudden accident makes Cole second-guess Julian’s dog-oriented decision-making, Julian needs to prove he’s changed from doggy downer to man’s best friend. That, or forget the grand gesture and admit this dogsitting thing—and his time with Cole—was only ever temporary.

Excerpt

Heart on His Lead
J.R. Hart © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

If Julian was going to get fired, did it have to be in this office, the one where the door barely clasped closed? He could picture someone walking by; the swift breeze of their movement causing it to swing open and let everyone see him get canned. Then again, it wasn’t like they didn’t already know the second he was called into the office, considering how the day was going.

“None of this is reflective of your performance.”

Julian picked at a piece of lint on his pants. The reassurance didn’t help if the result was the same. “No?”

“If we could keep everyone, we would.” His boss, Michael, cocked his head to one side. “The thing is, we can’t. It’s just not in the cards for us at this point. The company has faced some major losses. You know it. I know it.”

“And if it isn’t reflective of my performance? Why me? Why not someone else?” He felt compelled to ask the question. What was it about him versus anyone else in the company? Why had the six of them who had been called into the office in rapid succession been let go, rather than the others who sat at their desks, typing away, staring at spreadsheets on screens instead of agonizing over they’d be called in there? He wondered if they had gotten some memo telling them not to worry, because as name after name got called, most of them didn’t even flinch, or seem to be concerned they might be next. His boss’s dog looked up from the bed in the corner, and he resisted the urge to scowl back. They had the time and space for a damn dog…but not for him.

“Timing,” Michael said. “We’re starting with the newest hires first, then working our way through, weighing our options. There are a lot of factors at play, Julian. There’s not a simple answer here.”

But Julian knew that wasn’t entirely true. Marissa had already come and gone, and she started working here well before he did. And, of course, well before his coworker Alex, who still sat at his desk, completely unconcerned. Other factors? What others? There were always “a lot of factors,” so that wasn’t an answer in the slightest.

“But my performance…”

“Didn’t play a role. You’re a hard worker, and we’re happy to provide a reference. We definitely look at speed, efficiency, rate of errors and mistakes, but you’re fine, Julian. You do good work. It’s just…”

“Timing.” Julian looked him in the eyes and took in the blatant lie. Ultimately, this day was bound to come. Julian, as hard as he worked and as much as he tried, was never going to keep this job, even after giving them unending loyalty solely to avoid facing another layoff, his third in a row. And it wasn’t enough. Then again, this wasn’t even the kind of place he’d wanted to work; he took the job knowing it would only ever barely pay the bills. He’d landed a second interview here, which had been an improvement from getting ghosted after first interviews at two other companies, all of that following another layoff that had been out of his control. Another “it’s not you, really. It’s us. Downsizing.” Somehow, though, it was always him who was downsized. He was really starting to believe the whole “nothing on your end” thing was truly something wrong with him after all. “I’ll go pack up my desk.”

He stood, uncomfortable at the way that, even with both of them standing, he looked down at his boss. Slumping his shoulders to minimize himself, give some form of deference, felt silly at this point. After all, Michael wasn’t even his boss anymore.

“Thank you. And Julian? We’ll need security to accompany you for the whole thing. It’s nothing against you, just…”

Policy. Julian had already watched the other six go through the same thing. A meeting with Michael, an escort to their desk, loading their things into a box, and being marched out of the door as though they might snap at any moment, do something horrible or go off on a massive tirade on their way out, or they’d have to be dragged out of the doors of a company that clearly didn’t want them, as if it would somehow change the result. “I understand.”

He headed to his desk, only a few rows of cubicles away from the manager’s office. Honestly, he didn’t even know what to pack. Not the metal nameplate reading “JULIAN” in big blocky letters. They could keep that, throw it out, destroy it…he didn’t need it. What would he do with it? Not the pens—all company issued, their name printed down the side—that barely worked half the time, enough to write a Post-it to stick to the side of the computer. He reached forward and pulled down a photograph thumb-tacked to the fabric-and-cork cubicle wall, a family photo from years before. His sister and his parents, and himself, smiled from the glossy surface. They had been on a trip. God, it had to have been from high school, or maybe the summer after. Maybe when Molly was in college. No, definitely when she was. He’d tacked the picture up as a joke, once someone mentioned his cubicle was so bare. The reality was, he’d never bothered to bring anything because he knew this day would come. After his last layoff, it had felt inevitable. Why personalize his cubicle when he’d only be leaving it eventually? Then, he snatched the pride flag out of the pen cup; he’d offered it up as a small nod at who he was, after another employee a few cubicles away had quietly added a pronoun pin to her lapel. He wanted to make himself seem like a safe person to talk to, and if that meant outing himself at work, well…he hadn’t exactly been hiding who he was, and he wasn’t unclockable anyway.

He’d tried going into marketing, and he’d ended up here, in data entry. He was at least working at a marketing company, which he’d hoped would have been enough to spin on his resume as some kind of experience if he applied to another one, but being in the thick of typing in metrics for anonymous companies on anonymous accounts he wasn’t privy to, not even getting the chance to analyze what they meant or how to improve them, wasn’t helpful to getting somewhere in this career path. Oh well. Now, looking at the blank cubicle, it didn’t matter.

He turned to the security guard, single photograph and tiny flag in hand, and let out a weak chuckle. “I guess I don’t really need the box, do I?” He picked up his water bottle in his other hand and stood up out of his desk chair. He wasn’t going to miss the way the chair was too short for him, never adjusting to the length of his legs, not that he’d expected any chair to fit his above-standard height. “It’s just this.” Three items. Three single things representative of how little he’d grown attached to this workplace despite the hours he’d been putting in. Maybe that was why he was getting laid off.

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Meet the Author

J R Hart is a queer 30-something novelist passionate about telling romantic and erotic stories about LGBT+ characters. When J R isn’t writing, you can find her at the science museum with her son, cheering for her favorite soccer team, or at The Bean Coffee Co plotting her next work. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram as @jrhartauthor, or on her website at jrhartauthor.com.

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Feb 24

Book Blitz: Haint Off the Chain by J Hali Steele (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Haint Off the Chain

Series: Haints Misbehaving 4

Author: J Hali Steele

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: February 24

Heat Level: 5 – Erotica

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 40 pages

Genre: Erotica, Dark Fantasy, Dark Desire, Gay, Magic Sorcery and Witchcraft

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Synopsis

Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Monster Erotica Story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of paranormal heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not@ it!

Web Webster’s plan to own the muscle car he’s a passenger in is sidetracked when the driver wrecks the vehicle. Needing a new ID, Web barely has time to inhabit the body beside him. Web’s savior manages the accident with authorities and offers to put Web up at his place. Lying in the man’s bed, Web has one thought. If he’s not gay — he will be for me!

Casper Wainright is known for his penchant for fast, shiny cars. When a classic beauty rams a tree on his property, he helps the occupant escape before extinguishing the flames. The stranger needs a place to convalesce. Something about the stranger entices Cas, who decides one room in his house has a bed that has been empty far too long. Little does Cas know what evil he’s invited into his life.

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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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Feb 21

New Release Blitz ~ His Perfect Twink by Megan Slayer (Excerpt & Giveaway)

His Perfect Twink by Megan Slayer

General Release Date: 21st February 2023

Word Count: 44,557
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 186

GENRES:

BILLIONAIRE
BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

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Book Description


Can the twink accept the billionaire’s terms and risk his heart?

Demetrius Ford believes he’s not meant to be loved. His wealth tends to bring out the worst in people, so he doesn’t have high hopes when he visits Boys Club. Then he meets Todd and everything changes.

Todd Giddings came to Boys Club to escape the street. He’s young, but he’s been through a lot. He’s world-weary and tired of playing the game at Boys Club. Why play with the crowd when you could have love instead? When he answers Demetrius’ ad, he’s convinced his life will change, but can he accept Demetrius’ terms and risk his heart?

The twink and the billionaire doesn’t seem like it should work, but it might be exactly what they both need…

Reader advisory: This book includes references to sex work, inadequate parenting, and attempted blackmail.

Excerpt

“God, I need a good fuck.” Demetrius Ford looked over the spreadsheets then pushed the tablet aside. He didn’t give a shit about numbers or tag lines. He had people to keep tabs on his various accounts and didn’t need to dip in to ensure things were flowing correctly. He could sit back and enjoy the spoils of his work and it was high time he got what he wanted instead of worrying about making everyone else happy.

Demetrius wanted affection. Hell, he could buy someone for that, but he’d rather be loved for himself, not his bank account.

Finley Rooker, his friend and drinking buddy, strode into his office. “You look like shit. What’s your problem?”

“Nothing.” Demetrius remained behind his desk. “Is it Wednesday already?” He checked his phone. He had fifteen missed calls, a dozen or so emails and more texts than he cared to handle. “I have people to answer this phone and reply to emails, but they seem to be dropping the ball. Why am I paying them? I just added a dozen people to the payroll.”

“Because they aren’t working fast enough for you and they love to annoy you.” Finley poured himself three fingers of scotch. “At least you’ve got the cabinet stocked.”

“I knew you’d be by.” Eventually. Finley loved scotch as much as he loved sex. Finley was fine-looking, but not Demetrius’ type. He was a former football player, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He spent too much time in the gym and always worried about how he looked. “How would you like to be my second-in-command?” He trusted his friend and he needed help he could rely on. “The Cleveland office is fine, Detroit is, too, but Pitt needs someone with a firm hand and Cincy just expanded. We’re getting into St. Louis, Indy and Chicago, too. You love to travel. Want the job?”

“I do and you can afford me.” Finley shrugged. “All I’ve gotta do is report to you every so often? I can do that. I’ve been out of the game for too long and I want back in. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Good.” That settled that. Demetrius needed to order some more wine and have his penthouse redecorated, but he’d worry about that later. “Have you been to the clubs lately?”

“Too much. Why?” Finley sat across from him. “Do you want to club?”

“I’ve thought about it.” Fuck. Demetrius was forty-five, single, out and needed sex. Where else should he go? It wasn’t like he was meeting guys at work.

“What do you want to do?” Finley sipped the scotch. “Fuck, be fucked, suck, play or watch?”

“You’re blunt.” Which was why they were friends.

“You expect less?”

“No.” What did he want? “I want a boy.”

“Twink?”

“Yes. Someone who understands commands. Someone who wants to be controlled. You know, can take commands and follow directions. Someone who looks hot and would be good for a night out, but will also cooperate and not see me as just a blank check.”

Finley snorted. “You don’t want much.”

“Is that bad?” Demetrius preferred being up front with his needs.

“No.” Finley chuckled. He swirled the amber liquid around his glass. “It means you’ve been around and aren’t falling for bullshit.”

“That’s true.” He’d bought boyfriends, sold them, traded and no one seemed to fit. He’d even tried to get a guy to fake date him, but no dice.

Jesus. He’d made ten million dollars last year and couldn’t get a date. Wouldn’t the press love to know that?

“What if I told you I know a place where you can find the kind of guy you want? It’ll cost you, but it’s worth every dollar.”

“Oh?” He folded his hands on his desk. “I’m listening.” He couldn’t wait to hear what Finley had to say.

“It’s called Boys Club—I didn’t name it so don’t bust my ass. Anyway, you go there, feel it out and see what they have to offer. When you see what you want, you place an ad. Whoever responds, that’s who you pick from. You weed out the ones you don’t like and take the ones you do.”

Finley finished his scotch, then poured another three fingers. “I’ve met a few guys there. If you’re interested, I’ll be your sponsor and get you in. You pay the cover charge and joining fee.”

“Which is?” Demetrius was certainly intrigued.

“Cover charge is a grand because they don’t mess around,” Finley said. “The joining fee is five grand because the idea is that you’re paying to find what you want one time and then you’ll move on.”

“Except that you’re still visiting. You’re still going. Haven’t you found what you want?”

“I can’t decide between a few,” Finley said with a sheepish grin. “I like too many.”

“You do.” He’d never heard of this club, but the fees didn’t scare him. Hell, he made both fees in ten minutes at one of his offices. And if he could find the right guy…then the money would be well spent. “You say you’ll get me in? My name isn’t enough to do that?” He hated using his name for attention. It was too pushy for his tastes.

“You can use your name, but they don’t care. This isn’t about fame or notoriety.” Finley wriggled his brows. “It’s about finding what you need. Besides, you have to know someone to get in. They don’t want just anyone joining.”

“Not at five grand they don’t.”

“True. They cater to men of means.”

“Ah. When can we go?” Demetrius wanted to get his search going as soon as he could. He had a dinner date in a week and didn’t want to attend alone. He hated having to keep showing up at things single.

“How about tonight? I’ve been meaning to go and couldn’t find the time, but I’d go with you.” Finley sipped his replenished scotch. “I could use a good time for the evening. Maybe even a sub.”

“A sub?” He’d known Finley for over twenty years and never pegged him as a Dom. “You play?”

“Have for years—just like you.”

Demetrius didn’t advertise his kinks. “How did you guess?”

“It’s in the way you carry yourself. You’re so polished and pressed. Every detail is correct and you never have a hair out of place. Everything is perfect. You’ve got stick-straight posture and I’ve never seen you with your tie loosened. If there isn’t precision, you’re not happy.” Finley shrugged. “I admire your ability to be rigid. If you’d get rid of those pesky grays at your temples, you’d look twenty years younger. Or is that the deal? You want to be a daddy?”

“Christ, no.” He’d have to take care of the grays. He needed to look just so for his image and business. When he found the right sub, he’d loosen up a bit…but just for him. “I need my regimentation. People expect it from me.”

“And you need it from your sub, too. But since you don’t have one…you’re unhappy.” Finley nodded and left his chair. He held up the glass. “I’ll be by at eight sharp. Join me for the adventure and you won’t regret it. It’ll be a great time.”

“I know it will be.”

“Good. I’ll be around with the car at eight.” Finley finished his drink. “You do have the best booze. Now you just need a boy to serve it.”

“I do.” A twink would be perfect. “See you.”

“Later.”

He waited for the door to shut before he picked up his tablet and researched the club. He found nothing. Not a site, not a mention, nothing.

What was this place? He’d never run into something he couldn’t research, buy and control. If he wanted something, he should be able to take it.

And another thing…why did Finley have to be so observant? Demetrius didn’t wear his desires on his sleeve. He didn’t tell everyone he loved control. No, he needed control. But he hadn’t mentioned to anyone he wanted a sub or a twink. He wanted to look and feel young, sure, and being with the right twink would do that for him, but the person would be the best partner for him, too. That’s what he needed–someone who suited him. He needed the image of youth and vitality, but also to not be alone.

God. He spent too much time left to his own devices. He needed balance in his life. Sure, he had the cash, the status and the lifestyle, but he required the right guy, too.

He shoved the tablet away and leaned back in his seat. He’d find out about the club tonight. Maybe he would find a boy. It couldn’t hurt to look.

Not a bit.

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About the Author

Megan Slayer

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Find out more about Megan on her website, and sign up for the newsletter here. You can also check out her Blog, Amazon Author Page, Bookbub and Instagram.

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