Dec 20

New Release Blitz ~ Closed for Christmas by Elizabeth Coldwell (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Closed for Christmas by Elizabeth Coldwell

Book 1 in the Holiday Falls series

General Release Date: 20th December 2022

Word Count: 30,639
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 119

Genres:

CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

She’s going to Holiday Falls to close him down, but will he open her heart?

When Lori Lawrence arrives in the quaint town of Holiday Falls just before Christmas, her task is to assess whether the town’s underperforming bookstore deserves to be kept open. There’s no room for sentiment in the company she works for, yet she finds herself strangely drawn to the bookshop’s manager, the handsome and idiosyncratic Henry Cole. He doesn’t believe in loyalty schemes and hi-tech innovations, but he’s created an inviting space for everyone who loves books and reading.

This should be a straightforward job, but the heaviest snowfall in years leaves Lori stuck in town, and as the days go by and it seems like she’ll never be able to leave, she begins to see Henry’s way of running things with new eyes.

It’s not long before their feelings for one another deepen, but Henry has no idea of Lori’s true intentions. What will happen when he discovers the real reason why she’s in Holiday Falls?

Excerpt

“Holiday Falls?” Lori scrolled across the map on her laptop screen. She prided herself on knowing the location of every store in the Becker’s Books chain, and it irked her that she couldn’t immediately place this one. At last, she found it, right at the other end of the state from where she sat in her boss’ office looking out over Harvard Yard.

“It’s one of a handful of stores we’ve been keeping an eye on.” Simon Becker paused at the sound of a knock on his door. When he called out, “Come in,” his PA, Donna, entered carrying a tray. She placed a coffee cup in front of Lori, then handed another to Simon and set a plate of cookies shaped like snowflakes and decorated with white frosting in easy reach of them both. Just another reminder that Christmas was almost on top of them, and Lori still had so much to do before the company closed for its brief holiday break.

Simon reached for a cookie and offered the plate to Lori. When she made a polite refusal, he went back to what they’d been talking about before the interruption. “You’ve seen the physical sales figures across the company, and they’re holding up well despite more customers than ever choosing to buy their books online. But the stores in Madison and Little Rock are really struggling, and much as it hurts me to let good people go at this time of year, I’ve made the decision that when they close their doors on Christmas Eve, they won’t reopen.” He took a sip of his coffee, letting Lori digest the news. “And then there’s Holiday Falls.”

“What’s the problem there?” She leaned forward in her chair.

“Well, the town is such an important part of the whole Becker’s story…”

Lori knew as much as anyone who worked for the chain about its history. How Simon Becker’s grandfather, Daniel, had opened the original Becker’s Books here in Cambridge in 1973. It had mostly sold textbooks to the students at Harvard University, but it had done so well that within a year, Daniel Becker and his business partner, Anthony Hill, had opened a second store in nearby Boston, catering to a more general clientele.

“Anthony Hill’s mother lived in Holiday Falls. She loved to read, but she was always complaining there was nowhere in town she could go to buy books.” Simon helped himself to a second cookie as he spoke. “So, he and my grandfather took the decision to open a store there, too. It’s always had a special place in the Becker’s story—hell, it’s the reason we came up with the advertising slogan ‘books for the people you love’…”

Lori sensed there was a ‘but’ coming. “Sales there are slipping?” She called up the document with the figures from the last quarter in order to check, but Simon shook his head.

“No, they’re doing quite well, actually, considering the size of the town. But you know how we always send secret shoppers to our stores on a regular basis, to see how they treat awkward customers and find out if there’s anything they can do to make the place more inviting? Well, the report we got back from Holiday Falls…” Simon sighed. “According to our shopper, they couldn’t have been more helpful. No, they didn’t have the book she wanted, yes, they could order it for her, no, it wouldn’t be a problem to have it gift-wrapped… But they didn’t try to sign her up to the loyalty program, didn’t ask if she wanted to join our mailing list so we could keep her up to date with offers and promotions. She said the whole store felt like she’d gone back thirty years in time, as if it wasn’t even part of the Becker’s chain. Lori, we need to enforce company policy, and that’s where you come in.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“I want you to go there and check it out, then report back to me. If standards have slipped in Holiday Falls, I want to know why. The manager there is a”—he consulted his computer screen—“Henry Cole. You need to make him aware there’s a Becker’s way of doing things, and if he can’t comply with it, then I’m afraid we’ll have to replace him. If that doesn’t work out, then we’ll have no choice but to close the store. I’ll let him know you’ll be there tomorrow. Shall we say lunchtime?”

“Oh, I have that meeting with the regional manager in Boston at eleven. We’ve had to reschedule twice, and if I cancel on him now, I don’t see him being available again until the other side of Christmas.”

“No problem. Go over to Holiday Falls after the meeting ends, and I’ll get Donna to arrange for you to stay there for the night, rather than driving straight back. It’s the least I can do after dumping this on you at such short notice. But we can’t afford to keep carrying the lame duck stores.”

Lori nodded. She knew exactly why she’d been chosen to make this visit. She had a reputation within the company for being unsentimental, ruthless even, when it came to business decisions. She’d acquired the nickname of the Ice Maiden around the office, though no one had ever used it to her face. If anyone could make the decision to close a bookstore that clearly meant so much to Simon, it was her. “You can count on me to give the place a fair assessment. And I’ll get my report to you as soon as I’m back in the office. I know you want to make a quick decision on this.”

“Thanks, Lori.” Simon pushed the almost empty plate toward her as she rose to leave. “Now, are you sure you won’t have a cookie?”

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

Elizabeth Coldwell

Elizabeth Coldwell is a multi-published author and editor whose stories have appeared in a number of best-selling anthologies. She has written novels in a variety of different genres, from paranormal to BDSM and contemporary romance. She is the former editor of the UK edition of Forum magazine and the proud winner of an International Leather Award. When she is not busy writing, she is an avid supporter of Rotherham United Football Club and can be regularly found on the terraces at weekends, cheering her boys to victory (hopefully!).

Find her online at The (Really) Naughty Corner, http://elizabethcoldwell.wordpress.com

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Dec 20

New Release Blitz ~ Laid to Rest by T. Strange (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Laid to Rest by T. Strange

Book 3 in the Bound to the Spirits series

General Release Date: 20th December 2022

Word Count: 73,787
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 279

GENRES:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

 

Psychic medium Harlan Brand wants to be the bridge between the living and the spirits of Toronto.

Tired of dealing with ghosts reactively through the Toronto Police Service, psychic medium Harlan Brand starts his own paranormal investigation business, Laid to Rest Investigations. He wants to help ghosts before they become problems and help the people and ghosts who slip through the official cracks. His former police partner, Hamilton, joins him as his associate.

Harlan’s personal life is becoming just as complicated. He’s just moved in with his boyfriend, Charles Moore, and he’s been contacted by a man he saved from possession, Michael Clark. Despite his love for Charles and the commitment they’ve made to one another, Harlan immediately finds himself drawn to Michael. However, after Charles meets Michael and they hit it off, they decide to invite Michael into their relationship.

As his business grows and Harlan adjusts to his new role, solving cases and helping spirits leads him closer to the heart of a mystery that hits very close to home.

Excerpt

“Where do you want this box?” Morgan asked.

“Um, anywhere over there is fine.” Harlan gestured vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. He had no idea what was in the particular box they were holding, but he was feeling too flustered to check. He knew his ‘system’—or, rather, complete lack of one—would bite him on the ass later when he was actually trying to unpack and organize, but putting it off felt better than dealing with it at the moment.

“You know you don’t have to help with this part, right?” he told them. “Moving my stuff, not the business stuff? I mean, you didn’t really have to help with that, either. It’s not part of your job description—”

“Please. The ‘business stuff’ was like three boxes. And I write my own damn job description—unless you’ve come up with a written statement of what my duties entail?”

Wide-eyed, Harlan shook his head.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” they laughed, setting the box down on a pile.

Charles swooped in and glanced at it. “Mm-m, that’s a bathroom one.”

Morgan frowned at him.

“I’ll take it,” he assured them.

Harlan sighed. Of course Charles could keep track of everything.

Harlan knew it was stupid to move his business out of his apartment—all three boxes of it, as Morgan had just pointed out—immediately followed by moving in with Charles. But that was how the timing had worked out with renting an office and Charles’ lease on his old apartment running out. Technically there was no hurry on his end—Harlan’s apartment was his as long as he wanted it—but it had seemed silly for Charles to move all his things and get them all unpacked, only for Harlan to dump a fresh pile of boxes on some nebulous future date. Not that Harlan had that many personal possessions… At least he’d thought he didn’t, but there had been a surprising amount to pack up and load into the truck Charles had borrowed from a friend.

“Hey, does that mean I didn’t have to help, either?” Hamilton—now Harlan’s business partner at Laid to Rest Investigations—laughed.

Shit. Harlan swallowed hard. “Of course not. I’m sorry—”

“Hey.” Hamilton clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry… I was just kidding. I’m happy to help you two out. Matthew would have been here, too, but he had to work.” He hurried back outside, probably to grab more boxes.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked, setting down the plastic tote he was holding.

Harlan noticed that Morgan was also giving him a concerned look. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m fine. It’s just—a lot.”

Charles nodded, giving Harlan a quick hug. “I know. But the end is in sight!” He turned in a slow circle, taking in the boxes covering every horizontal surface. “Well, the end of moving. Then it’ll just be unpacking—and we can go at our own pace.”

Yeah. As long as we don’t want to sit on the couch or find anything, Harlan thought.

He just nodded at Charles, doing his best to smile.

“I think it’s just a few more, then we can go for beer and pizza.”

Harlan nodded again. He turned to leave the apartment to at least get some air and pretend to be useful by carrying something back inside, but his path was blocked by Hamilton, who was carrying a stack of boxes.

“Did I hear beer and pizza?”

“You did,” Charles agreed. “As soon as the truck is empty.”

Hamilton set the stack haphazardly by the door. “Then it’s beer and pizza o’clock. These are the last boxes.”

Charles whooped, grinning at the room. “Good work, team! I thought it would take us at least a few more hours.”

Morgan snorted. “It would have gone a lot more quickly if you didn’t have so many BDSM toys.”

“Ha. Just be glad Harlan hasn’t really started collecting his own yet or there’d be twice as many.”

Harlan found that difficult to imagine. Charles already had one of every kind of whip, flogger, paddle and cane imaginable—if not multiples.

Charles mimed dusting his hands together. “All right, if that’s it, let’s get out of here. Why don’t you just take one car?”

Harlan’s stomach sank. He was already feeling really peopled out—which was sad, because these were the people he was closest to in the world—and there would only be more people at the restaurant. He’d been looking forward to at least driving over with just Charles.

“You guys go ahead. I’m gonna drop the truck off. Phil can give me a ride, and I’ll meet you there. Harlan, you can order for me, okay?” Charles gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Great. Now he wouldn’t even have Charles in the car with him? And he would have to order not only for himself but also for Charles as well? Usually, it was the other way around. It made him feel like an immature jerk and a hot mess, but their system worked for them.

“Don’t worry.” Charles leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I wrote my order down for you.”

Well, that’s something, anyway.

Charles did that magical thing Harlan still couldn’t figure out how to do that sent something directly from his phone to Harlan’s.

“We can take my car,” Morgan offered. “Hamilton’s smells like thirty-year-old Tim Hortons.”

Harlan wrinkled his nose. They weren’t wrong.

Hamilton laughed. “Hey, I’ve spilled lots of other kinds of coffee in there! I don’t think the stuff at the precinct is even ‘no name’. It’s…somehow even sketchier than that. It’s probably not even real coffee.”

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t be drinking that.” Morgan shook their head, laughing.

Harlan found himself swept out the door and into Morgan’s car. He barely had a chance to wave goodbye to Charles before he was gone.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

T. Strange

T. Strange didn’t want to learn how to read, but literacy prevailed and she hasn’t stopped reading—or writing—since. She’s been published since 2013, and she writes M/M romance in multiple genres, including paranormal and BDSM. T.’s other interests include cross stitching, gardening, watching terrible horror movies, playing video games, and finding injured pigeons to rescue. Originally from White Rock, BC, she lives on the Canadian prairies, where she shares her home with her wife, cats, guinea pigs and other creatures of all shapes and sizes. She’s very easy to bribe with free food and drinks—especially wine.

Find T. Strange on Tumblr and Instagram.

 

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Dec 20

New Release Blitz: These Young Wolves by Glenn Quigley (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  These Young Wolves

Series: Knights of Blackrabbit, Book One

Author: Glenn Quigley

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/20/2022

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 84900

Genre: Historical, LGBTQIA+, Cornish coast, clockpunk, spec fiction, bears, sailors, law enforcement, historical, non-explicit, enemies-to-lovers, crime, redemption, revenge, tattoos

Add to Goodreads

Description

One year ago, Vince Knight walked away from his role as crime lord of Port Knot. In his absence, the gangs he founded went to war, and frightening new factions have risen from the ashes to tear at the town’s throat like hungry wolves.

Now Vince is back and has taken command of the Watch—working side-by-side with the very people who spent years trying to put him behind bars. Unbeknownst to him, Captain James Godgrave has been given his own team to deal with crime in the town, but while he and Vince share a common goal, they are not allies.

The murder of one of James’s crew puts Vince in a delicate position. Facing pressure from the council, the townsfolk, and the Watch itself, Vince must find the killer because if he doesn’t, James will, and Vince’s tenure as Watch Commander will be the shortest in history.

As Vince and James clash in their public and private lives, Vince starts to understand the damage caused by his abdication as crime lord, James sets about putting down the gangs once and for all, and the mysterious power behind the new factions exacts a terrifying plan that will change Port Knot forever.

Excerpt

These Young Wolves
Glenn Quigley © 2022
All Rights Reserved

He clicked his pale, meaty fingers twice, sending Crabmeat running along the narrow Entry while he hurried up the dry, cobbled road. He readied himself at a corner and stuck out the tip of his octopus-handled cane. A young man with a thatch of blond hair slammed into the cane at full speed, turning head-over-tit onto the cobbled road. A necklace and a handful of coins spilled out of his pockets, splashing into a horse-made puddle. Crabmeat—a tubby, short-nosed little bulldog—darted after him, barking furiously.

The young thief rolled onto his back, holding his shin and crying out, before being lifted wholly off the ground and slammed against the nearest wall. Vince Knight spoke with a voice like rolling thunder, “Assume you know the way to the Watch House?”

No one in the town of Port Knot could remember a warmer October than that of 1781. As the hazy sun rose in a saffron sky, the harbour stretched its cranes like waking arms and prepared for another day. Already several tall ships had docked and become targets for hungry gulls searching for scraps.

The briny air, awash with the stench of yesterday’s catch, stung Vince’s nose in a familiar and welcoming way. With his bag over his shoulder, he took the thief by the scruff of his neck, and marched deeper into town.

The crowds of traders, dockworkers, and sailors sundered themselves before him and fell quiet when he drew near. He kept his head down and carried on walking. He no longer needed the aid of his cane but thought it added some sophistication to his appearance, especially given his newest acquisition of a patch over his left eye.

Had he not already towered over the townsfolk, his clothing would still have set him apart. Sartorially speaking, he never truly overcame his brawler beginnings. His cream-coloured top shirt had seen better days and his black trousers had long ago begun to fray their edges. Yesterday, he’d attended his brother’s handfasting on the nearby island of Merryapple, and he’d accidentally left his favourite claret overcoat behind. Not that he needed it that morning. His tricorne cap, cracked and scaly in places, covered his snowy white hair and kept the morning sun from his lone icy blue eye.

Port Knot’s sole Watch House sat at a crossroads on the west side of town. Three storeys tall, it had a low front door painted in cornflower blue and a single window set with rusted iron bars. Above these, the sand-coloured bricks rose to an arch and then to a gable, in a wholly unnecessary architectural flourish. Like most buildings in town, thin copper pipes ran across the surface like veins under sallow skin.

The bridges of Port Knot infested the town like rats. Long, short, arched, flat, and each one different from the last. Lickbeer Bridge connected the road above Vince’s head to the first floor of the Watch House and protruded from the side of it like a hernia. The arch had been carved to resemble the open mouth of a bearded man, swallowing all who travelled through.

As with the rest of the town, the Watch House had been built too close to the surrounding premises, and indeed the entire street had the appearance of an overstuffed bookshelf. Within, Vince found a grimy pit of browns and mustards. The Watch House saw hardly any sun, so a plethora of lanterns fought bravely against the gloom.

Vince all but threw the thief onto a chair. “Stay,” he said, pointing. “Or else.”

Crabmeat sat in front of the thief and growled.

Vince let his bag of clothes slump to the dusty floor. He tapped his octopus-handled cane on the knotted wooden floorboards. “Anybody in?”

A voice from a backroom called out to him and presently a slim, dark-haired woman in her early twenties greeted him. She wore oversized tan trousers held up by braces, a striped shirt splattered with oil, and a pair of goggles perched on top of her head. She gripped a hammer in one hand and scowled.

“Got you a present,” Vince said, nodding to the thief.

“Ah, sure that’s very kind of you, altogether.” She raised the hammer a little and steadied herself. “And who might you be, now?”

“Vince Knight. Watch Commander.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Glenn Quigley is an author and artist originally from Tallaght in Dublin, Ireland, and now living in Lisburn, Northern Ireland with his partner of many years. His first novel, The Moth and Moon, was published in 2018. When not writing, he paints portraits in watercolours and tweets too many photos of lighthouses. He maintains a website of his latest work at www.glennquigley.com.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Dec 13

New Release Blitz ~ Her Special Ops Santa & Twelve Secrets of Christmas (Giveaway)

Her Special Ops Santa by Aurora Russell

General Release Date: 13th December 2022

Word Count: 42,729
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 160

Genres:

ACTION AND ADVENTURE
CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MEN IN UNIFORM
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

The sexy secret operative gave her unforgettable pleasure, but will he return to kiss her under the mistletoe?

When Rose Abbott took the position as a nurse at a charitable clinic abroad, she imagined she’d be saving lives, but instead she’s running for her life as a surprise insurgent uprising at the American embassy throws the country into chaos. In order to save a patient, she misses the last of the evacuation transports and has to make her own way to find her brother. She’s only prevented from walking into a trap by the massive soldier who rises out of the sand like a sexy specter.

T.J. Browning, known as Hook to his select special ops crew, has been growing jaded, so that each new sensitive, dangerous mission has become just another day at the office. When he sees a lovely young woman clutching her American passport as she tries to sneak across the open landscape, he knows he shouldn’t risk revealing himself, but he can’t help but save her.

Passion ignites between them as they shelter overnight in a small cave, but T.J. has secrets and responsibilities. He can’t make any promises, but he leaves her with the hope that he will be able to meet her for Christmas. Doubts creep in for both of them in the months of separation, and the road to a potential reunion is made even rockier by circumstances beyond their control. Still, T.J. remains determined to be Rose’s secret Santa…if she’ll still have him.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

Aurora Russell

Aurora is originally from the frozen tundra of the upper-Midwest (ok, not frozen all the time!) but now loves living in New England with her real-life hero/husband, two wonderfully silly sons, and one of the most extraordinary cats she has ever had the pleasure to meet. But she still goes back to the Midwest to visit, just never in January.

She doesn’t remember a time that she didn’t love to read, and has been writing stories since she learned how to hold a pencil. She has always liked the romantic scenes best in every book, story, and movie, so one day she decided to try her hand at writing her own romantic fiction, which changed her life in all the best ways.

You can find out more about Aurora at her website here.

Twelve Secrets of Christmas by Amelia Foster

General Release Date: 13th December 2022

Word Count: 30,448
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 124

Genres:

BILLIONAIRE
CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE

A workplace connection gets murky when the heir to the company is involved.

Leah Carson’s four-year relationship exploded on New Year’s Day and soured her toward all holiday-related activities. She no longer excessively decorated her home and office for Christmas, choosing the grinchy path instead. Working for a media outlet forces her into some semblance of holiday cheer, especially when the up-and-coming channel sets its sights on making a mark with a New Year’s Eve special to rival all the standard offerings—something thrown into question when the host of the broadcast is put in jail, and Leah and her team are scrambling to fill the slot.

Brendan Lanza is heir to the throne of Lanza Broadcasting, but he has to earn his seat by learning every department within the company at his father’s orders. His term with the marketing team offers the unexpected bonus of getting to know Leah better. The respect his father holds for the woman becomes an understatement once Brendan sees how her clever brain easily handles issues, something only rivaled by the temptations her body creates in him.

But her less-than-festive spirit and the threat of losing their highly anticipated special lead Brendan to appoint himself as her Secret Santa, sending twelve anonymous gifts to Leah. Their office flirtation ramps up as Leah begins to receive presents from a secret admirer, creating a bit of conflict as she believes that she is torn between two men, and Brendan is left to decide if he’s betraying their blossoming bond by withholding the truth behind the packages she finds on her doorstep each night.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

Amelia Foster

Books, coffee, and chocolate make up both the heart and body mass that is better known as Amelia Foster. She has been a lifelong lover of the written word, both as a reader and an author, and completed her first manuscript at the ripe old age of five, complete with illustrations. Sadly, her art was a medium that never improved over time, although thankfully her writing has.

From sweet to salacious, the only requirement Amelia has in books she reads – and definitely in the ones she crafts – is an excessively satisfying happily ever after… and then a little bit more.

You can find Amelia at her website here

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Dec 13

New Release Blitz ~ Exposed by Christmas & Moving Mountains (Giveaway)

Exposed by Christmas by Hayden West

General Release Date: 13th December 2022

Word Count: 32,013
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 135

Genres:

ACTION AND ADVENTURE
CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
SPORTS
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

Secrets refuse to stay buried.

Pulled in for an op he never wanted, Michael Little knows it won’t be a hardship to pretend interest in his target. What does prove difficult is knowing that when it’s over, he’ll have to walk away.

Radek Dionne has busted his ass to keep his name away from the shady dealings his family is involved in. Used to people wanting him either for those connections or due to him being a player in the NHL, he keeps to himself. Until one night when he meets someone who gets to him on a level he’s never expected.

But family has a way of showing up when you least want them to and his is no exception. Secrets are exposed and loyalties tested. Will they be together by Christmas, or has this last secret ruined any chance of a happy ever after?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, sexual harassment, blackmail, and kidnapping. There is mention of child abuse, domestic violence, drug abuse, human trafficking and child trafficking.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

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.

Moving Mountains by S. J. Coles

General Release Date: 13th December 2022

Word Count: 49,206
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 197

Genres:

CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
CRIME
CRIME AND MYSTERY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MEN IN UNIFORM
MYSTERY
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

Jacob would move mountains to spend Christmas with someone special. A suspicious death and Park Ranger Cody Spencer will help him do just that.

Special Agent Jacob Miles was looking forward to spending Christmas with someone special, but the job always gets in the way—or so his FBI agent ex keeps telling him. So, it’s looking like another lonely holiday at home.

But first, he’s got to get to the bottom of a suspicious death in the picturesque mountain town of Silveridge, Colorado. A local drug dealer has been killed, and the local sheriff’s minimal investigation seems to suggest that something’s not quite right.

Jacob isn’t thrilled to be sent undercover a week before Christmas to look into what he is sure is a case of country-cop incompetency, but then his local contact, Park Ranger Cody Spencer, has him looking at his trip, Christmas and the case in a whole new way.

Can Jacob decide which matters more, the case or his heart, before the holiday is over and one—or both—are lost?

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

S. J. Coles

S. J. Coles is a Romance writer originally from Shropshire, UK. She has been writing stories for as long as she has been able to read them. Her biggest passion is exploring narratives through character relationships.

She finds writing LGBT/paranormal romance provides many unique and fulfilling opportunities to explore many (often neglected or under-represented) aspects of human experience, expectation, emotion and sexuality.

Among her biggest influences are LGBT Romance authors K J Charles and Josh Lanyon and Vampire Chronicles author Anne Rice.

Find S. J. Coles at her website and on Facebook, and follow her on Instagram and Twitter.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Dec 13

New Release Blitz: Summer’s Second by Jeff Billington (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Summer’s Second

Author: Jeff Billington

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/13/2022

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 66500

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, angst, poverty, new adult/young adult, high school, college, coming out, sexual discovery

Add to Goodreads

Description

Asher Brock’s last summer of youth is far from ideal. His hopes for the future, including an escape from his constricting Ozark Mountains hometown, seem increasingly fragile as he faces hurdles of poverty and abuse, all while coming to terms with being gay. Raised by an alcoholic single mother, he clings to his noted intelligence as an escape to a better life. But it will take more than brains—namely, strength of character and aspiration—for him to navigate the months leading to his senior year of high school.

The pregnancy of his recent girlfriend, the heightened aggression of his long-time bully, and the increasing presence of his long-absent father create a season of turmoil, spurring unease and self-doubt. But with support from family and friends, an opportunity for love, and the shedding of generations of secrets, Asher sees beyond preordained fate and starts to realize the opportunities in his grasp.

Excerpt

Summer’s Second
Jeff Billiington © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Asher’s nose wrinkled and his mouth sagged into a frown as the acrid stench of cigarette smoke and cheap vodka greeted him. A comingled foulness with a source that needed little investigation, as left in an untidy manner on the coffee table were his mother’s cracked plastic ashtray and an empty bottle of vodka—the remnants of her previous evening’s activities. A disheartened sigh escaped him. At least she practiced consistency, with the only variation to note this morning being the absence of a glass, which had probably made its way to her bedroom so she could finish it off as a nightcap.

He picked up the vodka bottle and peered into its bottom, drained to the last few drops. The ashtray was the opposite, overflowing with twisted butts and ash. He carried the pair of containers into the kitchen and set them on the counter. Finishing cleaning the mess now made the most sense, but doing so in his current mood would leave him seething with frustration. That could wait, he told himself, and returned to the living room. He collapsed onto the sofa, a loud sigh escaping as he did so, then reached across to the coffee table, straightening the pile of months-old fashion magazines, souvenirs from the recycling at his mother’s HairStylez job, then wiping the lingering ashes and water spots off the table.

The night before, as always, he left the room tidy. Disorder made him uneasy. But, also as usual, after an evening at the bar, any notion his mother had of good housekeeping vanished once she stretched out on the sofa with her smokes and cocktail, ready to enjoy her recording of that day’s episode of General Hospital. Sometime around midnight, she likely staggered off to bed, obliviously leaving behind the mess. There she contently dozed away the next eight hours until her alarm woke her for another day of providing cheap haircuts. He hoped that, as she passed through the living room on the way to her car, she paused a moment at the mess from the night before and felt a pang of guilt for leaving it to her son to clean.

The thought of the bottle and ashtray on the counter gnawed at him, appealing to his growing compulsion for cleanliness, so he pushed back to his feet and returned to the kitchen. Being careful not to tip out any of its waste, he lifted the ashtray to eye level, examining the twisted and charred cigarette filters, ensuring no red glow remained and he could safely dump the remnants into the trash can. After nine hours, they were always burned out, but his overabundant sense of caution insisted he verify each morning. The overwhelming scent of burnt menthol clogged his nose, giving his stomach a start. How could an odor he had known every day of his life, which all but permeated his home, nearly prompt him to puke?

He dropped the vodka bottle into the trash can, glass clinking as it hit against an identical bottle emptied three days prior. Another exasperated sigh escaped him as he pushed the trash can against the kitchen cabinet, so he could brush a handful of stale potato chips and a puddle of pickle juice into it—the last of the mess she’d left.

The immediate disorder now abated, Asher felt enough ease to return to the sofa for a little TV time, his morning relaxation before heading to his summer job of bussing tables and washing dishes at the diner.

A collection of annoyingly gleeful faces appeared on the screen, clueless morning program personalities bobbing their heads up and down in affirmation of the segment’s slick promotional guests. It felt so fake. How could anyone act so endlessly excited unless they were popping pills or snorting coke in their dressing rooms? He had never done either pills or coke so he could only assume the effect of those drugs mirrored the idiocy he saw on the television. He slid his hand up and down the left side of the sofa cushion, finding nothing, then leaned over to the right side and dug in, snagging the remote from its hiding place. His mother always seemed to misplace it following her nightly soap opera viewing parties. He punched in the number for the classic movie channel, and the iconic face of James Dean appeared, a troubled young man pulling off a bloody T-shirt while the actor playing his father, who Asher recognized as Mr. Howell from Gilligan’s Island, coddled him. Who did he feel sorrier for, the angsty and misunderstood son or the father who tried too hard while not trying hard enough? He had watched Rebel without a Cause ten times previously and still could not decide whether Dean’s Jim Stark ever found happiness.

A digital chime chirped at him from his pocket. A text, and one he did not need to look at it to know who sent it. It wearied him to think of a response. He shifted his attention back to the movie, James Dean revving a car’s motor in preparation for tearing out to the edge of the cliff. The phone chimed again, guilting him into pulling the device out. On my way over, it announced. Sent, as expected, from Jessica, his girlfriend of the last two months. He had known her nearly his entire life, most of it as friends of coincidence, as the margin between friends and enemies felt slim in a high school with less than three hundred students. Three months earlier, feeling self-conscious about going stag to the school’s junior-senior prom, he’d asked her to it as his date. Then, almost overnight, she installed herself as his girlfriend, despite no conversation passing between them to signify the upgraded status.

He wanted to text her back and tell her not to come, but that would only speed up her arrival, and darken her increasingly sullen attitude toward him. In the months since the relationship started, she had shifted from friendly conversations to something more controlling, with her personality becoming notably more demanding and tense. He originally planned to bring an end to the pseudo relationship in the days after the prom, but with the introduction of some alcohol to tear down inhibitions, they ended up having sex the night of the event. Then, two days later and back at school, it became common knowledge what they had done, though not from him, and it suddenly felt cruel to end the relationship with that gossip so fresh.

Now, a month later, he continued to fill the role of reluctant boyfriend, with her coming over several mornings a week, always after his mother headed to work. And, unfailingly, once she arrived, they repeated the clumsy coupling that took place on prom night in the back seat of the car he borrowed from his grandmother.

“OK,” he texted back, wishing he could watch the rest of the movie without distraction before he needed to shower and head to work.

A sparse ten minutes had passed when the doorknob rattled, followed by a loud and impatient knocking. “Open up,” Jessica yelled from the porch while continuing to beat her fist against the door. His mother must have remembered to lock it when she left, or Jessica would have opened it without warning and strutted right in while glaring at the threadbare furniture and shabby walls. Why did she want to date him when she judged his home so openly?

“Hey,” Asher offered in a muted greeting as she brushed past him and stepped into the living room.

“Your mom’s been smoking in here again,” she proclaimed, her nose crinkled in displeasure.

Though it irritated him that his mother smoked in the house, it angered him when someone else commented on it. “It’s her house,” he replied in a stony tone.

Jessica shrugged her shoulders. “Glad it isn’t mine,” she countered while rolling her eyes. Then she flashed him a wide, seemingly forced smile. “Come here. You haven’t given me a kiss yet,” she scolded him. He stepped close and gently slid his arms around her, which she countered by pulling him tight, pushing her mouth hard against his. It always happened this way. She took charge, getting angry if he showed a bit of assertiveness. But despite her aggression, he always noted a melancholy look in her eyes as she did it, as if doubting herself, or compensating for some personal flaw.

She eased up a little, though still maintaining an unyielding embrace. “Do you have to go to your gross job today?” she asked before allowing him to break free.

“In forty-five minutes,” he lied, cushioning in an extra hour of freedom from her.

“I thought you worked at noon,” she countered, her eyes darkening with mistrust.

“Normally,” he sputtered. “They asked me to come an hour early today; breakfast crowds have been bigger than usual.”

She shrugged her shoulders, her most common use of body language. “We better hurry,” she instructed as she started peeling off her clothes.

Is it like this for everyone? Asher wondered. Neither of them seemed to enjoy it. She acted as if she was forcing out some pent-up aggression while he simply complied. How could a girl who always outwardly seemed polite and gentle prove so demanding and isolated during an act as intimate as this?

As always, it occurred on the ungraciously sagging old sofa, him continuing to watch the movie that played in the background, and her either not noticing or caring. Is this really what everyone was so excited about? Sure, the first time proved arousing, even the first few times after that, but now it felt more akin to a chore, such as doing the dishes or laundry. How did that happen for something that itself felt so good?

“I need to get ready for work,” he told her afterward as they sat on the sofa, considerable distance between them. The movie neared its end, and she ignored both him and it, instead texting her friends and, he suspected, sharing with them her just concluded intimacy.

“Fine,” she muttered as she stood up, straightening her bra beneath her shirt in the process. He grunted a response, glad to see her go, but also uneasy about her nonchalance. Before they started dating, they frequently chatted about everything going on around them, but the relationship had spurred a callous silence.

“See you later,” she offered as she rushed out of the house, not looking back.

He stayed inside the screen door, not following her out onto the porch, watching as she trotted down the steps, then darted across the yard before vanishing down the street. His eyes drifted to the summer foliage that crowded the yard, unkempt bushes clustered against the porch and half a dozen clumps of peak bloom irises in the sunnier corners of the property, ragtag remnants of his great-grandmother’s once prized garden.

As a child, he’d toddled through this same yard amazed by its never-ending carnival of color, a splendor spanning March to October. From the initial spring burst of vivid azaleas to the more subtle hues of asters and chrysanthemums in the cooling months, some blossoming beauty could always be found. But in the decade since the gardening matriarch’s death, Asher’s mother’s apathy had all but obliterated the previous beauty. And while he regularly mowed the grass to provide at least a semblance of maintenance on the house’s exterior, he felt shame for not doing more to revive a little of the past graciousness.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Jeff Billington grew up on a farm in the Ozark Mountains of Southwest Missouri, surrounded by animals, family, and local lore. His adult life has included stints as a journalist, communications director for a member of Congress, and working for environmental and advocacy nonprofits. He currently lives in the Maryland suburbs of Washington, DC but hopes to return to the Ozarks someday.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Dec 09

Book Blitz: The Devil’s Saturnalia by Alexa Piper (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  The Devil’s Saturnalia

Series: Hellbound 6

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: December 9

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 149 pages

Genre: Romance, Action Adventure, BDSM, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Romantic Comedy, Urban Fantasy , Christmas, Dark Desire, Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay, Magic, Murder Mystery

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

While in Scotland for Lionel’s magic training with Hades, a murder case compels the Devil and his necromancer to stick around a little longer. Lionel, who still cannot control his demigod magic properly, doesn’t mind a murder investigation, because that is something a necromantic police consultant like himself knows how to handle.

Except, the investigation doesn’t go at all as Lionel thought it would. And when he decides he wants to open up to Lucifer, finally, that doesn’t go exactly as Lionel had feared either, but some surprises are good surprises, especially when Saturnalia is just around the corner.

Lucifer is delighted. He has his boyfriend, who finally opens up, and his boyfriend is all his, at least through the holidays. That much attention is exactly what Lucifer loves, and the holiday season would be entirely perfect — if it weren’t for an old enemy who is out for vengeance.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

Demigod magic was different from human magic. I understood that. Why my half-human status and my limited grasp on the not-human magic in me required me to be dropped into either an oubliette or a dried-out well like today, I had no fucking clue. But Hades, god of the underworld, brewer of whiskeys, and also my mostly cryptic magic teacher, had declared it necessary, and so here I was.

The oubliette back in November, some three weeks ago now, hadn’t been so bad, actually. I’d freaked out at first, but my Awesome Demi-Human Sled Dog Magic™ had just been there and ready, as if the breaking of the minotaur’s labyrinth a few days before had excited the magic. As if it hadn’t quite settled down yet and was still there to please. The rocks making up the walls of the oubliette had shifted easily to give me handholds, and I’d simply climbed back up, leaving the cold, damp darkness behind.

But the well was just a hole I was stuck in. It was fucking dark down in this well shaft, and since it was the middle of December, it was also fucking cold. “I’m a skilled necromancer,” I mumbled into the grayish semi-darkness. “I am a competent police consultant, and I can raise and kill zombies with my mind. How in the fuck did I get here?”

I smelled woodfire and spices on the air, and my heart picked up a beat. “Babe. You can’t kill a zombie. They’re already dead as a prerequisite. You de-animate them.”

Lucifer, my teleporting boyfriend and also the Devil, was standing on the frozen ground of the well’s bottom right next to me. I felt his body heat. I was sure he looked amazing with his kitty-cat fur hair just perfect, though I couldn’t really see that. Night fell early in the harsh Scottish winter, and Hades had dropped me into the well around noon. I mean, he’d gently lowered me down, but still. I’d been starting to feel like that creepy girl from that Japanese movie. I could barely see anything in this dry and frozen hole in the ground, and I’d started contemplating a future in which I got to haunt people by crawling out of their TV at them.

“What are you doing down here?” I asked the devilish boyfriend unit, my teeth chattering slightly. I actually wanted to melt into him and seek his warmth against his chest, but I didn’t want him to think I was needy. No, that was wrong. I didn’t want to think I was needy. I did need him. I knew that, deep down inside, but it was scary. Most of my feelings for Lucifer scared me these days, and most of the time, I wasn’t sure how to handle myself and my needy ass around him.

Sometimes, he tied me to his bed and took all control and power away from me, handling my ass for me, and then, it didn’t matter, and everything became easy. When he got to do to me what he wanted and wouldn’t take any objection, he also gave me just what I needed but didn’t know to ask for. I had come to that truly freaky realization while tied to one of the bed posts of the four-poster bed in the guest room we shared in Persephone’s castle, Lucifer’s dick in my mouth, and I would have liked to call the realization mind-shattering. It hadn’t been. It had just come, and then Lucifer had, and I had swallowed, and he’d taken care of me after, kissed me and rubbed me down like a horse fresh off the track, and it had felt so good.

So, consequently, shit had gotten only scarier with him.

“I am here to get you, babe. Unless you are getting yourself out?”

I scoffed and kicked the wall of the well. “I would have by now if I could. Being stuck in a well sucks. Why the fuck would you think I’d stay down here if I could get out by myself?”

Lucifer came closer, cupped my cheek. “The chthonic side of your heritage should drive you to enjoy this. Being below the earth.”

“Ah,” I said, because what the fuck. “Hades hasn’t mentioned that. He was talking about Kringle again.”

Lucifer was caressing the side of my mouth with the pad of his thumb, not quite stroking my lips. If I turned my head, I could suck his thumb. It would be that simple.

“Who’s Kringle?” the Devil asked.

Purchase

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

For one week only, get book #1 in the Hellbound series, The Devil’s Necromancer for only 99 cents! Purchase at Changeling Press and all other major ebook retailers.

Meet the Author

Alexa (she/her) has a lot of characters living in her head and wanting their stories told. Many of these people get snarky and won’t stop complaining if Alexa is too slow writing them, which means that for this author, sleep is a luxury. Consequently, Alexa is a coffee addict, but she is sure she has it under control (six cups of coffee are normal in a morning, right? Right!?)

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | BookBub

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Dec 06

New Release Blitz: As Played by Gods by Tallie Rose (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  As Played by Gods

Series: Briar Constance, Book One

Author: Tallie Rose

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/06/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 93400

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, Fantasy, contemporary, bisexual, gods, blood magic, faerie, witches, politician

Add to Goodreads

Description

The gossip rags’ favorite witch, disaster and occasional historian Briar Constance is hearing voices.

Ever since political playboy, Soren Savros, asked her for help in finding the lost spell book of a Goddess, she’s been hearing the deity’s whispers. Which means she might finally be on the brink of living up to her family name.

Then Briar meets Lillia, who is beautiful, mysterious, and maybe a little dangerous. Briar is immediately intrigued.

But Lillia has a secret, one that frightens the Goddess and leaves Briar questioning everything.

Excerpt

As Played by Gods
Tallie Rose © 2022
All Rights Reserved

The cash register at the front of the shop dinged and Briar groaned. Another customer meant another sale. One more thing to add to the lists of Godsforsaken numbers sitting in front of her. Owning a bookstore was supposed to be fun. That was the lie she had told herself when she’d seen the place for sale and bought it on a whim.

Her financial advisor had vehemently disagreed, but he never had anything good to say. Too many books. Too much makeup. How can an old diary cost so much? The last one had been worth it; she’d pay any price to add to her collection. So what if she hadn’t found any answers in that book either? The history of her magic was out there, somewhere. Waiting.

Her phone vibrated and she snapped the ledger shut. The numbers could wait—and keep waiting—until she called the family accountant.

Just got a haircut. I’m a block away. See you soon.

Briar swiped her finger, dismissing the message. “Ursula, can you get me a coffee from across the street? The books are killing me.”

Ursula’s heart-shaped face appeared in the doorway of her office, her red hair a shock against the brown wood. “Double shot?”

Briar nodded her agreement. “Sorry, I know you’re not a secretary.”

She waved away Briar’s concerns. “My friends think this is the coolest job in the city.” Her heels clicked against the polished floorboards.

So much wood. Briar had hoped it lent an air of formality to the shop when she bought it but now she worried it was stuffy. Her condo barely had any wood at all. It was all modern, bright-white walls, terrazzo floors, and gleaming steel surfaces.

Steel. At least she supported the family.

She reached under her desk, pulled her heels on, and fluffed her blonde curls in the reflection of the photos she kept on her desk. More mascara? No, not to blow someone off.

The door opened and the bells were quickly stifled. The shimmering light of Evaria’s magic was visible above the shelves and Briar’s whole body tensed. Evaria’s black hair was indeed newly cut, and her stilettos made her almost as tall as Briar. A feline smile pulled at her lips as Briar stepped into view. “Darling.”

“You know I have employees. Occasionally even customers.” Briar leaned against the front desk. “The whole storefront is glass.”

Evaria’s smile only grew. “I have a burning desire for a new book.” She crossed the space between them with cultivated grace. Briar had never seen anyone move like her. It was what had drawn her to Evaria at the fundraiser a year ago.

The fundraiser her husband had been throwing.

Briar stepped away from Evaria and back into the rows of books, shielding herself from the view of anyone passing by. “If you’re looking for a book, we recently got several new titles in.” She reached for a thriller.

Evaria’s hand darted out and caught her wrist. Briar froze as Evaria smirked. “Stop it.”

“Evaria…” She’d worn yellow, like she had when they first met. Briar stepped closer, her feet moving against common sense. Evaria dropped her hand from Briar’s arm to her hip. The touch snapped Briar back to reality. “No.” She pulled away. “It’s not right.”

“You can’t be serious.” Evaria’s expression darkened, storms brewing behind her blue eyes. “You knew I was married when you led me into that storage closet.”

Briar rubbed her temples. “So if I make a mistake I’m never allowed to correct it? He’s a senator. The scandal would be enormous.”

Evaria blew out a long breath. “The scandal would be mine. Not yours.”

“That’s bullshit, Eve. My aunt just bought Corsco. It cost a not-so-small fortune. You watch the news. They’d love to plaster both our faces in little boxes. Maybe if you leave him…”

Evaria raised her eyebrows. “Oh, are we getting married? Will I live in your condo and go to clubs with you on the weekend?”

Why had she ever thought Evaria would do the reasonable thing? Briar pressed her palms against her eyes and sighed. “You’re fucking phenomenal, Eve, but…I didn’t think you’d ever call again after that night.” Why did she do this to herself? There were so many people in the world and Briar wanted things—so many things. She was smarter than this, better than affairs and drunken nights she could barely remember.

Evaria’s laugh rang out, echoing off the walls of the shop. “Sorry, Briar. I thought we were having fun,” she scoffed, knocking into Ursula as she left.

Turning, Ursula watched her leave. “She looks familiar.” She handed a cup to Briar.

“She’s Senator Jakobson’s wife. Look, I’ve got an errand to run. Can you handle things for an hour or two?”

Ursula glanced once more toward the door. “Yeah. Avi should be in soon. Take all the time you need.”

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.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Dec 06

New Release Blitz: Kepler-186f by Rachel Ford (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Kepler-186f

Author: Rachel Ford

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/06/2022

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 106200

Genre: Science Fiction, LGBTQIA+, science fiction, action/adventure, alien planet/alien creatures, space travelers, other-world, planetary settlement, lesbian, light romance, barbarians, cannibal vs. non-cannibal tribes, suspense, fear of other, combat/weapons/guns, military, scientists, illness/disease

Add to Goodreads

Description

The Genesis mission promised a new start on Kepler-186f. A new start for Captain Nikkole Johnson, and a new start for humanity.

An elite soldier recruited to protect settlers on the new world, Johnson wakes from cryosleep to find that the mission went sideways thousands of years ago.

Most of the original crew has vanished. Those who remain know no more than she. Strange voices whisper in the trees and on the winds. Monsters attack in the night to carry off the survivors. To save what’s left of the mission, Johnson must discover what happened in the first place.

Before the ghosts of the past erase any chance of a future.

Excerpt

Kepler-186f
Rachel Ford © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
I was first aware of sound. Not an individual sound, but the faint hum of nothing in particular. And then light registered, dim and somewhere behind closed lids.

Slowly, very slowly, the sounds became distinct and morphed into something recognizable.

Droplets fell slowly. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The rustle of the wind, like pages moving far away.

A quiet, consistent mechanical clicking. Tick. Tick. Tick.

My mind felt foggy, as if waking from a deep sleep. I registered the sounds but couldn’t place them. They puzzled me, but vaguely. I couldn’t focus enough for anything more than vague confusion.

Feeling flowed back. My extremities were chilled through. My head throbbed, and fire seemed to course through my veins. I felt a slab of some sort underneath my prone form. A cold slab. Was it stone? Maybe. I couldn’t be sure.

And before I knew it, the world went dark again.

I started back to semiconsciousness as an icy droplet splattered against my face. Sucking in a great gasp of air didn’t quench the burning in my lungs. My eyes opened to an unfamiliar scene, and I drew in breath after shaking breath as I tried to remember what was going on. But my brain was sluggish and my memory slower yet.

So I concentrated on what I could see. I was outside, it seemed, staring into a starless burgundy sky. Rain was falling, the dripping sound heavier than I remembered. But, aside from the occasional splash, I wasn’t wet.

I wasn’t outside after all. Where am I? I squinted at the sky, trying to clear my vision. It was dark, not so much that I couldn’t see, but dark all the same. Still, I could make out the explosion of raindrops above me as the forces of gravity propelled each watery projectile into an invisible barrier.

Splat. Splat. Splat.

Glass. There’s glass overhead. I was in a building. That was something, at least. How I had gotten here was another story. My memories weren’t clear. I seemed to have an inkling of what had happened last, but it was elusive, slipping out of reach every time I came near to seizing it.

I had to get my bearings. I knew that much. I tried to sit up. For a moment, it seemed as if my body wouldn’t cooperate. It wasn’t weakness, exactly, but the same sort of haze that clouded my brain…then, with a sweeping sense of vertigo, the muscles in my arms and torso gave in, and I was upright.

Only after the nausea had abated did I notice the medical apparatus. Various tubes ran to and from me. A flash of panic swept me. What is this? What happened to me?

But instinct took over and buried the fear. I was an Army Ranger. I didn’t panic.

Captain Nikkole Johnson. The name returned, as if it had never been gone. I am Captain Nikkole Johnson.

That realization still didn’t explain the equipment or the room. It seemed to be some sort of hospital, though it was difficult to see much through the dimness of a late dusk. But I could make out a little by the glow of a dial here and a screen there. And the sounds of beeping and whirring supplemented my visual perceptions.

The angle puzzled me—it seemed as if all the room were leaning on its side, and I, alone, and the cold metal bed upon which I sat, remained level with the earth.

My presence here confused me further. Had I taken an injury? How? Where?

Or—worse yet—had I been captured by the enemy?

No. That couldn’t be. The war was over. I had survived, been decorated, and reassigned.

Reassigned. That was it, wasn’t it? The mission, this is all part of the mission. I frowned, trying to remember what mission. But my head wouldn’t cooperate.

It was as though I had cobwebs on my brain. I could almost feel them. And the air felt so thin, so very thin. I seemed starved for oxygen.

No wonder I’m having such a hard time remembering. I needed to get up, get out of this room, get away from…whatever this was.

I pulled at the tubing, wincing as each piece of the apparatus broke loose, then dangled my legs over the side of the bed and promptly tumbled into a heap.

Some while later, I woke up for a third time, shivering violently. All had gone dark, save the green and blue displays of machinery around me. I was soaked to the bone. The occasional splattering I’d observed earlier I now recognized to be rain coming through a broken window. And I’d collapsed directly beneath the breach in a wet pile of stone and glass.

In this last bout of unconsciousness, the numbing effects of my long sleep had worn off. I remembered the mission, the room, and why I was here. And so, I knew where here was.

Not a hospital. Not a ward or a clinic. I’d woken in a cryochamber onboard the USS-Genesis II. I’d gone to sleep in this chamber on June 2nd, 2093. The fact that I was awake now, with icy sheets of rain pouring down my back, meant the mission had been a success. I was home.

My new home. Kepler-186f.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Award-winning author Rachel Ford is a software engineer by day, and a writer most of the rest of the time. She is a Trekkie, a video gamer, and a dog parent, owned by a Great Pyrenees named Elim Garak and a mutt of many kinds named Fox (for the inspired reason that he looks like a fox).

Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Dec 06

New Release Blitz ~ Holiday in Hiding & Daddy’s Secret (Giveaway)

Holiday in Hiding by Lily Michaels

General Release Date: 6th December 2022

Word Count:  48,367
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 186

Genres:

BISEXUAL
CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GLBTQI
MEN IN UNIFORM
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

Hiding from his past may wind up leading Liam to the merriest Christmas of his life.

Constantly looking over his shoulder has become Liam Carlson’s norm after five years in witness protection. Living with his new identity has come with a major downgrade in lifestyle and a lack of any meaningful connections. But when he loses his minimum-wage job and the rundown apartment he called home, he finds himself in the middle of a Texas state park waiting for the marshal in charge of his case to help with relocation. A sudden, ferocious storm destroys many of his belongings, including the tent that offered him some protection, but it also heralds in a sexy-as-hell park ranger, Jax Gallagher, who taunts Liam’s long-neglected libido.

Jax and his wife, Megan, have had an unconventional relationship from the beginning, with a military romance that blossomed into marriage. Their mutual desire to share their love with a third member resulted in several blissful years with another man that ended when they left the service and took on civilian careers. An unexpected visitor in the form of a drenched Liam is the first glimmer of hope since then that they can reclaim the happily-ever-after they thought they’d lost. Their attraction grows with every second they spend together. While they become closer, another lifesaving rescue also manages to open the door to a career Liam never fathomed.

But the truth of the criminal world Liam grew up in threatens to destroy the still-tenuous bond the three are forming and the bright future Liam never believed possible.

Reader advisory: This book contains a description of an injured or abused animal.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

Lily Michaels

Coffee, chocolate, and books make up Lily’s world, often all three at the same time. Whether reading or writing she is a sucker for an over-the-top happily ever after… only following an appropriate amount of pain, of course.

When she is not writing or reading (which is not very often) she enjoys exercising her right brain in non authorly ways such as creating mosaics, crocheting, knitting, scrapbooking, and taking one man’s trash to create something new. But never, ever ask her to draw something. That is a beast best left alone.

You can find Lily on her website here, and follow her on Pinterest and Instagram.

Daddy’s Secret by M.C. Roth

General Release Date: 6th December 2022

Word Count:  35,309
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 143

Genres:

BILLIONAIRE
CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

If only you were mine… If only you needed a Daddy to look after you.

This Christmas promises to be the loneliest of Sullivan’s life and he’s set to brave the season alone until he receives an amazing, yet heartbreaking, Secret Santa gift that was inspired by his best friend’s pen pal, Lincoln.

What starts as a thank-you letter to Lincoln soon becomes more as Sullivan finds himself drawn to a man he’s never met—a man who somehow seems to know him. The problem is, Sullivan needs a friend more than he needs a hookup, so he pretends to be married, taking an intimate relationship out of the equation.

Soon pen and paper aren’t enough, and he writes his phone number in his next letter, hoping that Lincoln will call him. When Lincoln finally does, Sullivan’s breath catches at the sound of his voice. When Sullivan pretends that his fake husband is away on a business trip, Lincoln invites himself over for a Christmas movie marathon.

Beside each other on the small couch, the lines begin to blur and Sullivan curses himself for pretending to be married. But maybe he’s not the only one with a secret.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

M.C. Roth

M.C. Roth lives in Canada and loves every season, even the dreaded Canadian winter. She graduated with honours from the Associate Diploma Program in Veterinary Technology at the University of Guelph before choosing a different career path.

Between caring for her young son, spending time with her husband, and feeding treats to her menagerie of animals, she still spends every spare second devoted to her passion for writing.

She loves growing peppers that are hot enough to make grown men cry, but she doesn’t like spicy food herself. Her favourite thing, other than writing of course, is to find a quiet place in the wilderness and listen to the birds while dreaming about the gorgeous men in her head.

Find out more about M.C. Roth at her website.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Load more