New Release Blitz: Like Real People Do by E.L. Massey (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Like Real People Do

Series: Breakaway, Book One

Author: E.L. Massey

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/23/2022

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 88800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, gay, interracial, new adult, sports, ice hockey, uni student, ice skating, professional athlete, slow burn, rivals/enemies to lovers, physical disability, anxiety disorder, in the closet, coming out, service dog, cooking/foodies, Louboutin devotion, stanning, friends to lovers, social media, vlogging, hashtags

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Description

Nineteen-year-old hockey phenom Alexander Price is the youngest-ever captain in the NHL. With a polarizing social media presence and a predilection for dirty play, he typifies the stereotype of young, out-of-control athlete. But away from the cameras, Alex is a kid with an anxiety disorder and the expectations of an expansion franchise on his shoulders. And maybe he tries too hard to fit the part of asshole playboy, but it’s better than the alternative; in his line of work, gay is the punchline of an insult, not something he can be.

Eighteen-year-old vlogger Elijah Rodriguez is a freshman in college recovering from an injury that derailed his Olympic figure-skating dreams. Mixed-race, disabled, and out of the closet since he was fourteen, Eli is unapologetically himself. He has no qualms about voicing his disapproval of celebrity jocks who make homophobic jokes on Twitter and park their flashy cars in the handicapped spaces outside of ice rinks.

After an antagonistic introduction, Alex and Eli’s inexplicable friendship both baffles and charms the internet. But navigating relationships is hard enough for normal teenagers. It’s a lot harder when the world—much of it disapproving—is watching you fall in love with your best friend.

Excerpt

Like Real People Do
E.L. Massey © 2022
All Rights Reserved

There are admittedly worse things in the world than having to walk two blocks on a Wednesday morning in July.

Eli knows from experience there are worse things in the world.

Like being diagnosed with epilepsy at sixteen.

Like having heat-induced seizures and living in Texas.

Objectively, he knows there are worse things, but right at this moment, he can’t think of many because it’s 6:00 a.m., and he isn’t allowed to have caffeine because they’ve changed his medication again, and he’s had to park in the visitor’s garage because the only two handicap spaces at the north entrance of the Houston Hell Hounds official practice facility had been occupied by one parallel-parked Land Rover decidedly lacking handicap tags.

“Motherfucking hockey players,” Eli says to the empty sidewalk.

So now he’s running late because it’d taken him an extra ten minutes to find the visitors’ lot, and he’d still needed to stop and let his dog pee before they entered the complex. Because being the disabled kid whose service dog pees in the rink on the first day of practice will guarantee he never has a collegiate social life to speak of. Not that he holds out particularly high hopes for that anyway.

The security guard at the door barely glances at his newly printed student ID before waving him to the left with a tired, “Rink Three, end of the hallway on your right.”

She looks like she could use some coffee too.

“Right. Thanks.” Eli shifts his backpack, sparing a last hateful glance at the Land Rover outside.

“Hey, do you happen to know whose car that is out front? License plate AP23?”

She lifts one eyebrow. “You mean Alexander Price?”

Because of course. Of course it was Alexander Price. Eli tries to avoid too much familiarity with the hockey world, but there are some things you just know if you spend enough time around ice, and one of those things is the name of the youngest current captain in the NHL, who is apparently just as much of a douche off the ice as tabloids would suggest.

Eli takes a steadying breath. “You know where I could find him?”

The security guard considers Eli’s expression, then the dog at his feet, then the ill-parked vehicle outside.

“I take it you don’t want an autograph?”

“No.”

She gives him an apologetic smile. “I don’t think I can have his car towed, but I can file a complaint if you’d like.”

“That would be great, thanks.”

He starts to move forward again before pausing. “Do you know if Jeff Cooper is back from IR?” he asks. He doesn’t make a habit of following hockey, but when he’s potentially in the same building as a gold-medal-winning, world-junior-figure-skater-turned-NHL-player, he’d like to know.

“Yeah. As of this week, he’s cleared to skate no-contact in practices.” She grins. “He also parks in the players’ lot like he’s supposed to.”

Eli would expect nothing less.

“They’re in practice for another hour and a half,” she adds. “But sometimes Cooper does the meet and greet afterward.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Rink Two.” She nods to the right hallway. “Price will be there, too, but he almost never comes out afterward.”

“Shocking.”

The doors open behind him and an entirely too-awake girl wearing a hijab that matches her leggings waves at them both and hands over her student ID.

“Morning,” she says, careful not to run over Hawk’s tail with her rolling skate bag. “Your dog is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Eli says. “Are you a freshman too?”

Which is a stupid question because he knows the rest of the figure skating team isn’t supposed to start practice for another week. Obviously, she’s there for freshman orientation just like he is.

“Yeah!” she says, apparently immune to his idiocy. “I’m Morgan. Just moved in last night. Thank god for coffee, right? I’m so nervous I didn’t sleep at all.”

“Right,” he agrees wryly. “I’m Eli.”

She gets her ID back from the security guard, and they start down the left hallway together.

“It’s so cool the Hell Hounds share their facilities with the university,” she says. “Did you know their practices are open to the public? I think I might go try to get an autograph or two later if we have time.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I might join you.”

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Meet the Author

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

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New Release Blitz: Nurturing Hope by Kara Ripley (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Nurturing Hope

Author: Kara Ripley

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/23/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 88500

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, children, criminals, interracial, law enforcement, pets, political

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Description

Desiree Adler does not want a girlfriend. Why would she? She has a demanding career as a photographer and content creator, an eccentric but supportive family, and a huge responsibility as a foster parent to a teenager named Hope.

Desi’s life is just fine the way it is. Why risk another heartbreak?

However, Desi’s sister is annoyingly persistent and when she arranges a blind date for Desi, it’s less trouble to agree, get it over with, and return to normal life. The blind date is every bit as terrible as predicted. So why can’t Desi stop thinking about Soledad Reyes?

If Desi has any hope of finding balance in life, she must help Hope confront the ghosts of her past, while confronting her own assumptions about race, power, and identity in the present.

Excerpt

Nurturing Hope
Kara Ripley © 2022
All Rights Reserved

California

2019

There are a lot of things I love about living in Sacramento. For a start, there’s enough distance from Silicon Valley that I can actually afford rent. Having grown up in one of the less-appealing suburbs of San Francisco, being able to get a place with a bathroom built for actual human beings and a little yard space is a nice change from the sardine box I’d shared with my parents and sisters.

Then there’s the aesthetics of the city. Driving beyond the stoic government buildings and office spaces, citrus trees line the streets like scented sigils and neat, paved driveways stretch up to meet welcoming houses. The whole place has a real sense of home about it, the kind of comfort and connection that can only come from a well-organized city with a steady rhythm of activity.

I’ve got routines, things I do to provide structure to my life. Early on Sundays, before I dig into my work for the day, I take my teenage foster daughter to the Farmer’s Market and we wander through stalls that sell the best fresh food California has to offer. Strawberries. Beets. Eggs. All of it delectable. Hope says she hates our weekend excursions, but I think I’m gradually wearing her down, convincing her that maybe she isn’t allergic to peaches, tomatoes, and fresh air after all.

Given the nature of my work, with most of my time spent in an office chair staring at a computer screen, getting outside, whether to the market, to the gym, or, like today, to an off-site job, was normally a real joy.

I grimaced as I scanned yet another useless street sign. I normally love driving around Sacramento. But I don’t love being lost when I’m meant to be at a job site taking photographs.

“Where the heck is this damned street?” I yelled at my steering wheel, which obstinately refused to help. Surely cars should be advanced enough to get me where I need to go. I mean, it’s the twenty-first century and that’s a basic part of the job description for a vehicle: taking me from one place to another.

“Turn left here.” The assertive New Yorker who voiced my GPS had never annoyed me more.

“There is no left!” I waved toward the sidewalk to prove my point. I was already fifteen minutes late and the car’s navigation system wasn’t doing me any favors by insisting I drive straight into some poor family’s front lawn.

I’m not always this irritable, honest. Most of the time, I’m fairly calm. But today was not my day.

“Does this place even exist?” I drummed my fingers against the gear shift. “This is your fault. Why can’t you find Morts Road? What am I even paying you for?” I shook my head. “Meet Desiree Adler folks, the woman who drives around yelling at nobody.”

The fact I was arguing with a piece of software didn’t deter me from swearing at her repeated instruction. It felt like whatever could go wrong that morning, had gone wrong.

My water heater, after weeks of whining and moaning every time someone took a shower, made a valiant last stand before finally dying in a cacophony of hoots and whistles. Of course, this happened before I needed to rinse the conditioner from my hair.

Let’s not even talk about what our ten-month-old Labrador did to my new jeans while I finished off my ice-cold shower. I’d planned to wear those jeans to the blind date my sister Clara had lined up for that night. It took about sixty minutes of throwing clothes about my bedroom to finally decide on a suitable replacement outfit, and even then, I settled for something that looked kind of ordinary because I was sick of trying things on.

Ginger Snaps—I let my boss’s son name the dog—may be freaking adorable, but she’s also a menace.

So, given the first two hours of my day had already been pretty crappy, when the police lights flashed red and blue in my rear-view mirror, you can imagine the whole new level of obscenities that escaped my mouth. But, if you can’t, it was something like this: “For fucking fuck’s sake. Just fuck right off, fucking fucker.” The Monty Python team would have been proud.

Shaking my head, I flicked on my turn signal and pulled over. I sighed as I tapped at the steering wheel. I wasn’t sure what I had done but between arguing with the GPS and rolling my eyes at non-existent roads, I certainly hadn’t noticed myself speeding or going through a red light. Maybe the cop needed to meet some quota for random breath tests. I just hoped he was quick about it. My boss was not exactly going to get happier the later I was.

I glanced in my rear-view mirror and nearly spat out the gum I’d been chewing. The cop wasn’t a he. It was a she, and I started to wonder if she’d gotten lost on the way to the audition for a blockbuster film.

There’s no way a police officer, on an average day at work, should be allowed to be that attractive. As she sauntered toward me, I watched her move in line with my side-view mirror. The officer had a dark beige complexion and long, black hair pulled into a tight and high ponytail. Intelligent brown eyes rested between slightly arched eyebrows and an aquiline nose that complimented the delicious seriousness of her face. It wasn’t normal for a real-life human being to be so beautiful.

I couldn’t be sure if I hated her for being stunning, or if I wanted her to show me how her handcuffs worked. A confusing thought, given the way my palms always turned clammy whenever cops were around.

Knock knock.

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Meet the Author

Kara Ripley is the romance-writing alter ego of Australian sci-fi and fantasy author, Rebecca Langham. Even though she’s named after two iconic sci-fi characters, Kara reflects Rebecca’s inner romantic, that part of her secretly wanting to leave the aliens, magic, and spaceships behind every now and then.

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New Release Blitz ~ Better Than Home by Lane Hayes (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Better Than Home

Series: Better Than Stories, 6

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Narrator: Nick J. Russo

Original Release Date: April 18, 2022

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 35K

Genre: Romance, Contemporary, MM Romance, Bisexual, Established Couple

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Synopsis

The lawyer, the diva, and a new adventure…

Matt-

Life is good. A few years ago, I met someone special, came out as bi, fell head over heels, and married the love of my life. A man. But not just any man.

Aaron is a confident, unapologetically fabulous diva who isn’t afraid to take chances. I love that about him. New state, new career path…no problem.
Except things don’t always go according to plan. That’s okay. It might be the perfect time to get back to basics and check off a few items on our original list…like buy a house and start a family. Whoa! House first.

However, house hunting isn’t glamorous at all, and with my partnership at the law firm in the balance, it’s kind of stressful. Everything we’ve dreamed of is within reach—if we can just find a place that feels like home, we’ll be better than good.

Better Than Home is a sweet and sexy novella featuring Matt and Aaron from my International Bestselling book, Better Than Good. The lawyer, the diva, and the happy ever after of a lifetime. For readers who know the real love story happens after the first “I love you.”

Excerpt

Chandler went quiet for a moment in what I was sure was a calculated sales technique. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle and sincere.

“Let me show you one more older home next weekend. It’s outside of Bethesda. Great property, lots of land, very private, but in a great neighborhood. It’s not even on the market yet. The listing is supposed to be up by next week. However, I can give you an early pass at it. If you hate it, we’ll go back to the drawing board. Thoughts?”

Aaron shot a quick sideways glance my way. “It’s a date.”

“Not a real date,” I qualified like a real dumbass. “I mean…yes. That sounds good.”

Chandler grinned, then led us through the green-carpeted maze of the house. We said another round of good-byes before heading to our car.

I pulled away from the curb and scowled. “A date?”

“Hmm?” Aaron scrolled the playlist on his cell before fastening his seat belt. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to date Chandler,” I groused.

“A house-hunting date.” He snickered.

I tore my gaze from the road for a second and did a double take. “Are you smiling?”

“Yep. What’s wrong with smiling?”

I slowed at the stop sign on the corner. “Theoretically, nothing. But you look amused.”

“And what’s wrong with being amused?” Aaron countered, more amused and smiley than ever.

“Hmph. I’m getting sick of Chandler. And now…you’re really smiling.”

Aaron pursed his lips as if in an effort to keep his grin from spreading like wildfire across his face. He captured my hand and kissed my knuckles.

“I am. You’re cute when you’re pretend jealous.”

“I’m not pretend jealous or real jealous,” I protested.

“Maybe a smidge?” he teased, biting my thumb.

I yanked my hand away and fixed him with a mock glare that had him howling as I shifted gears and pulled into traffic again. “Okay, fine. Chandler has a crush on you and I don’t like it.”

“No, he doesn’t. But I suppose this is a good time to remind you that you are quite literally the best thing that ever happened to me,” he hummed dreamily.

I stole a peek at him. “Uh…thanks. What does that have to do with our infatuated real estate agent?”

“Chandler is straight. His ex-girlfriend is an editorial assistant at the magazine. And he isn’t the problem anyway. You’re not having fun.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t enjoy spending every Saturday with a hunky agent who drools over my husband like he’s the last brownie at a family picnic.”

Aaron chortled merrily. “I’m saving myself for you. Corner and middle pieces…all yours.”

I chuckled along with him. “So…what are we gonna do about this house dilemma? There’s no way we’re moving into a fixer-upper. We are not those people.”

“But…what if we learned to be those people?” he asked in a careful tone.

“Huh? How? When?” I shot another sideways glance in his direction before turning down an idyllic road with green fields dotted with massive trees, wild flowers, and horses in the distance.

He circled his wrist in that way he did when he was excited about an idea. “Hear me out. I’m just thinking aloud…what if we were the general contractors?”

“If we were the contractors, the house would fall around our ears,” I snarked.

“I’m serious, Matty. Listen, I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I’m not suggesting doing anything crazy ourselves, but we can certainly piece a few minor repairs and updates together to make a tired old house into a fabulous new home.”

“No, we can’t. We work. The last thing we’re going to want to do is sand floors or paint. We’ve done the painting thing before and—”

“And it was great! Our walls are perfection. Every color was chosen with love and applied with care. We can do it again.”

Oh, boy.

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Meet the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016, 2017, 2018-2019, and 2020-2021 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.

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New Release Blitz ~ Conjure Lake by Rebecca Henry (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Conjure Lake by Rebecca Henry

General Release Date: 16th August 2022

Word Count: 85,529
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 300

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
FANTASY
PARANORMAL
ROMANCE
YOUNG ADULT

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Book Description


When feelings are more than a warning, they become haunting.

Eighteen-year-old Serena is attending university on the west coast when her life is flipped upside down. After the untimely death of her parents, Serena returns to New York City to care for her seven-year-old brother, Jack. As financial pressures mount, Serena makes the difficult decision to move them to their family’s heritage lake house in upstate New York.

Jack hasn’t spoken to anyone but her since their parents’ death and Serena’s only focus is learning how to become a full-time mother to her little brother with the hope that she can save him from his sorrow. But when the siblings arrive in the tiny and isolated town of Corvin Grove, they realize their family’s name raises eyebrows from the townsfolk as the two settle into the abandoned lake home.

It doesn’t take long for the siblings to discover that things inside the gothic house are not what they appear to be. An ancient witch has cursed Conjure Lake and if they stay in Korwin Cottage, they may never make it out alive.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of horror, gore and child endangerment. There are references to past animal death.

Publisher’s Note: This book is related to the Ambrosia Hill series.

Excerpt

Serena closed the suitcase on her bed, zipping up what was left of her life in New York City, and slipped the tote bag carrying her sketchpad over her shoulder. Little remained to be done—everything had already been sealed in brown boxes and moved to a cold storage unit on the edge of the city. A lifetime of memories of baby books, photo albums, old Christmas decorations, her father’s first guitar, her mother’s easel—all packed and sleeping in the dark. Just like her parents, who now lay in the ground, side by side for eternity. The little things that had once made their house a home were now buried in their own coffins, never to be resurrected and soon to be forgotten.

After the funeral, Serena had vowed she’d never visit her parents’ graves. There was no point. Rose and Edward Bancroft were now just two names written in stone atop a lonely hill at the back of a cold and isolated graveyard. Like her parents, she didn’t believe in an afterlife. Neither her mom nor her dad had been religious—if anything, they were like scientists, putting faith in what science could prove. It seemed gruesome and unfair to leave their bodies rotting in the cold, hard ground. Serena never wanted to remember her parents as muted, decayed and sealed in a box six feet under the earth. Whatever made them human—whatever the soul was, if there ever was one—had departed the day they died. What was left in those graves was nothing but corpses.

Rose and Edward Bancroft had been killed in a car accident during a rainy afternoon drive to the library to pick up her little brother, Jack. The police officer who worked the scene assured Serena that they likely never saw the semi-truck that had smashed into their car, killing them both instantly. No, for them it began and ended with a glimpse into each other’s eyes—a last look at this world in the face of their true love.

But for Serena and Jack, it was an end and a beginning. The end of a life as a happy family, and the beginning of something else—an eternity as orphans.

Suitcase in hand, Serena paused at the doorway, looking around her childhood bedroom for the last time. The walls echoed with memories, haunted by ghosts of sacred moments she’d never again share with her mother. Her first night home after the funeral had been unbearable. The absence of her parents had felt like a physical thing, a black void so large there was no room to breathe in their city apartment. It was as if their ghosts lingered in their belongings. Her father’s reading glasses still lay abandoned on the coffee table next to the weekly paper. Her mother’s apron hung forgotten by the oven.

A car honked outside, startling Serena from her reverie. A quick glance out of the window told her the cab had arrived to deliver them to their new life. Serena sighed as she dragged her heavy suitcase to the ground and rolled it down the empty hallway for the last time. “The taxi is here, Jack!” she called out to her brother. “We’ve got to get going if we are going to catch our train.” He didn’t answer, not that she expected him to.

Jack had always been quiet—more of an observer than a talker. Their dad had referred to him as “his little professor” because he always had his nose in a book. Most of his friends were the librarians who pulled aside books for him and brought him treats, usually delivered with a wink and a smile. Jack would glance up at them with a silent nod of appreciation, pressing all four of his fingers against the lenses of his glasses as he pushed them up his nose, leaving them eternally smudged with fingerprints. But after the accident Jack had stopped speaking completely. No one, not even his beloved wiener dog Tinker, could reach his island of grief.

From that terrible day and every day since, Serena had done all she could for her little brother. At age seven, Jack was far too young to be alone, so Serena had left her life behind at the University of California to be with her brother back in New York so he could finish the school year. Those first days had been hard. The thought of getting out of bed and making breakfast before their walk to Jack’s school had seemed insurmountable, but they had managed. Now the school year was finally over and summer had come.

Serena stood in the foyer, eyes closed as she imagined her parents’ laughter around the breakfast table, their kisses on their foreheads at bedtime. But nothing, certainly not wishes, could conjure them back.

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About the Author

Rebecca Henry

Rebecca Henry is an American author living abroad in England. She is a devoted vegan who gardens, practices yoga, crafts, travels the world, and bakes. Rebecca’s favorite holiday is Halloween, and she is obsessed with anything and everything witchy! Besides writing fiction, Rebecca is also the author of her vegan holiday cookbook collection. Her love for animals, baking with her family, having a plant-based diet and cruelty-free food all came together in her holiday cookbook collection.

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New Release Blitz ~ On Common Ground by Mina Jane Madeley (Excerpt & Giveaway)

On Common Ground by Mina Jane Madeley

General Release Date: 16th August 2022

Word Count:  73,806
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 284

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE

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Book Description

 

He’s thin-skinned and stubborn… But she won’t get kicked out without a fight!

After six years in Paris, thirty-four-year-old investment banker Adrian Hensley returns to San Francisco, engagement broken and ego wounded. His hope for some peaceful solitude is shattered when he finds a stranger subletting his home without his knowledge. The pretty brunette would be the embodiment of his sexy secretary fantasy, if it weren’t for her feisty temper and her tendency to get him worked up…in more ways than one.

Eva Duncan, a legal secretary with a knack for finance, makes a point of remaining independent. No man will ever decide her fate—not again. When Adrian comes barging into her quiet life, old childhood wounds reopen, and she won’t get kicked out of her home. At least, not without a fight. Yet, standing her ground proves to be tricky for Eva in front of a handsome, too-often-half-naked Adrian.

Between her tenacity and his arrogant façade, Eva and Adrian jump from one misunderstanding to the next, making their forced cohabitation as explosive as their attraction. How long will it take for them to learn that the ‘right decisions’ are not always those which lead to happiness?

Excerpt

Slouched in the back seat of a cab, I rub a hand over my two-day stubble as the driver parks, the streetlamps almost blinding my sleepy eyes. I step out into the chilly wind and retrieve from the trunk the three bags containing everything that’s left of my life in Paris. It’s all I’ll need for a fresh start. The rest would only be a reminder of Pauline’s betrayal.

A surge of anger engulfs me again, not as strongly as it has the past five weeks, but despite putting physical distance between us, the disgust, resentment and sense of failure still weigh heavily on my shoulders.

I stretch my aching muscles, stiff as if I’ve ridden planes and taxis for an entire month. Even in the foggy darkness, my building hasn’t changed much since I last lived in San Francisco—four stories high on a steep hill, with typical bay windows.

Inside the lobby and up the stairs, my surroundings still feel familiar, and so does the cold metal of my key in my hand. I’ve always clung to it, even after moving across the world. Deep down, part of me knew I’d come back. I’d planned to. Yet, not once did I imagine my return in these circumstances—alone.

I reach for the lock but hesitate. Madison lives here now, and I shouldn’t barge in. I knock on the door once, impatient to surprise my little sister—twice, the anxiety creeping its way back into my gut. How will Madison react after all this time? I hope she’ll be happy to see me. The impromptu visit seemed a good idea when I planned a one-week stay for my job interview. The intended short trip has turned into a permanent move back, and Madison might just be upset with me landing on her doorstep when I haven’t even called in months.

Another apartment door unlocks behind me, and a young man comes out, dressed in black jeans and a hoodie, his long blond hair poking out of a beanie. With the shadow of a beard on his jaw and his six-foot height, I almost don’t recognize him.

“River?” I ask.

His eyes widen. “Adrian? Great to see you, dude.”

I drop my bags to shake his hand. “You, too. It’s been a while.” My gaze sweeps over him from head to toe.

The last time we crossed paths in this hallway, he was still a teen who looked up at me as if I were a rock star, tried to sneak in when I hosted parties and spied on every woman who left in the early mornings. A lifetime ago, it seems. The past few years have turned him into a man, and me into a boring adult.

River nods toward my front door. “Are you visiting?”

“Moving back, actually.” My voice sounds serene, as if uttering the words aloud marks the start of my new life. “I knocked, but Madison’s not here. Do you know when she’ll be home?”

River pauses, one eyebrow cocked. “Dude… Madison won’t be here anytime soon.” He blows out a small laugh, cut off by his phone buzzing in his hand. “Gotta run, but let’s catch up, all right?” He walks down the stairs and out of the building before I can ask him to clarify his cryptic words.

Showing up unannounced wasn’t the brightest idea, but after months exchanging only rare and impersonal texts with Madison, the fallout from my failed engagement isn’t a topic I wanted to discuss over the phone.

I knock a third time, just in case. The key prickles my palm. I’d hoped Madison would be home this late on a Thursday. Wherever she is, I can’t wait in front of the door for however long it’ll take her to come back.

I call out with the door half-opened. “Madison?” The fatigue in my voice echoes in the silence. No answer.

The living room has changed. A flowery fragrance floats in the air. Apart from the furniture, each trinket and piece of decor is different from what I left behind. In the dim glow of the standing lamp, wherever my eyes linger, the light touches of gold and soft blue turn my apartment into a stranger’s place.

The shimmering night view of the bay through the windows, still as staggering, comforts me. I take in a deep breath and bask in that sentiment. I’m home.

My limbs are numb from hours of travel, and my eyes drift closed. The urge to lie down is hard to resist, but if I cave, sleep will overtake me in seconds. A shower seems essential at this point.

Dropping my bags by the guest room door—unpacking postponed until tomorrow—I rehash the carefully chosen words to explain my return without mentioning the humiliating reason.

Pauline and I are over. So is my life in France.

Simple enough. No reason to share the sordid details that led to our breakup.

Madison will need to move out of my apartment. I can’t keep lending it to her. I won’t stand sharing it, not even with my sister. Finding some peace, alone, is the first step to getting my life back on track.

Just like the rest of my apartment, the bathroom is different. Dozens of girl products cover the countertop, all arranged by size. I place my toiletry bag next to the sink and dig for my shower gel.

My fingers brush the pack of condoms. A bitter chuckle escapes me. A one-night stand wasn’t enough to erase the damage Pauline’s cheating inflicted on my ego. Switching back to being single and playing the field after a decade in a relationship isn’t easy or fulfilling. Instead, the meaningless night had left me hollower and more lost.

I swallow the frustration in my throat, bury the pack deep inside my bag and undress, avoiding even the smallest glance at myself in the mirror. I can’t stand that beaten look in my eyes, lately.

The shower’s scalding water pours down my back, washing away some of the exhaustion and misery.

A clank in the hallway startles me. I step out of the shower and slip my sweatpants on. With a long calming breath to regain some composure, I exit the bathroom to face Madison. But the brunette standing in the living room in a tight dress and stern ponytail is not my sister.

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About the Author

Mina Jane Madeley

I’m French, which is as good a start as any to write Romance, if you ask me. The soft twinkling lights in the winding paved streets of Paris, the warm breeze and spellbinding smell of lavender in Provence… and we invented the french kiss, didn’t we?

Although my rebellious teenage self preferred writing crime thrillers, the passion for literature was already there, as well as my interest for languages. I learned Spanish, Italian, and a little bit of German, but English stuck with me.

As I studied English and American literature and linguistics at the University, immersing myself in the language made it impossible for me to write in French, as if my brain couldn’t create in French anymore. Luckily, it kept the french romanticism, and I fell into Romance novels.

Fast forward a few years of various choices, different jobs, different lives, my passion for writing romance is still intact, and it’s time for me to share it with you!

Find out more at her website.

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New Release Blitz: The Oracle’s Hatchling by Mell Eight (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  The Oracle’s Hatchling

Series: The Oracle, Book Two

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/16/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 20700

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, MM romance, royalty, mythical creatures, dragons, magic, war, hurt-comfort

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Description

Ling is hated by everyone in the Monastery because his birth killed his mother. He hopes Caste testing will ease his troubles—either his rank will be so low that everyone will forget about him, or it will be so high they’ll be forced to respect him. What he doesn’t expect is to walk out of the testing chamber with an egg emblazoned across his back. Laughed out of the Monastery, Ling hides away in Altnoia, where he becomes embroiled in a plot to overthrow King Edan and the Oracle who supports him.

The ringleader behind the plot is Prince Damarion, son of the evil despot who forced King Edan to flee in the first place—but the prince’s motives don’t match Ling’s expectations. He doesn’t anticipate a friendship, either, or what that friendship would become and the choices he would be forced to make.

Excerpt

The Oracle’s Flame
Mell Eight © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Ling was eighteen. He was old enough, dammit. Still, the Masters at the door had barred his way even as they laughed at his temerity. He’d been forced to sneak into the room through a back hallway instead.

Eighteen was the Oracle’s minimum requirement to be eligible for testing. Most trainees weren’t actually called into the testing chambers until they were in their twenties, but they could attend the choosing ceremony from age eighteen onward. Despite his past, Ling had that right too.

“Welcome,” the Oracle called jovially into the room.

Her body was thirteen years old, just on the cusp of growing into a woman. Her voice reflected that: both high with youth and cracking with growing vocal cords. Her eyes, though, as they swept over the assembled crowd, were colorless and emanated a sense of age and wisdom. Ling knew those eyes, but to him they still belonged to a different woman.

“Today is the day of choosing. The young men and women trainees of the Castes will finally know to which Caste they belong, and all will be welcomed under the mountain.”

Ling had to hide a snort at that. He had heard enough jibes by his peers and teachers about how he should die in the testing chamber. They hated him because he had been born and because the occurrence of his birth had killed his mother. Still, he had hope. When he tested into a Caste, that one Caste would have to acknowledge his existence. If he tested low enough, they could finally ignore him and let him go about his life. If he tested high enough, they would be forced to respect him. That had to be better than his status at the moment.

“Come forward, trainees,” the Oracle finished with an open sweep of her arms as if she were planning to give the entire room a hug.

A line slowly formed in front of the Oracle as those jostling for place jumped forward. The older trainees wanted to know their Caste and move on to the next phase of their lives. The younger ones were eager for the honor of being placed as well, despite not having waited as many years. Ling hung back, hidden in an alcove in the back of the room. If he approached too soon and was seen waiting in line, one of the Masters would no doubt try to throw him out. He had to approach just as the Oracle gave her decision on the final trainee.

The line slowly dwindled. Each trainee approached the Oracle with cautious reverence. She placed one hand on their forehead for a long moment and then delivered their fate. Of the fifteen trainees, she only chose five, entreating the other ten to return the next year. Only once the last trainee had backed away with a bow did Ling abandon his hiding place. The onlookers, thinking the choosing had finished, began shifting awkwardly as they waited for the Oracle’s permission to leave. When she didn’t, only continued to look toward the back of the room, they all turned to see where the Oracle was patiently gazing.

No one spoke out as Ling carefully made his way through the crowd. The Oracle would tell them if he was or was not allowed to approach her, and she hadn’t spoken. Finally, Ling reached the dais where the Oracle stood.

“Approach, trainee,” she said regally.

Ling bowed low and slowly stepped up to her. This could be his only chance to attend a choosing, now that the Masters knew he had snuck in. They would find some way to permanently bar him in the future. He had to be eligible for testing this year; he didn’t know what he would do if that weren’t the case.

“Hello, Hatchling,” the Oracle said softly for Ling’s ears only.

“Hello, Mother,” Ling replied in an equally soft voice.

She smiled at him, then lifted her hand to place it on his forehead. Ling closed his eyes and waited, hoping that it would end in his favor.

The Oracle took a long time, much longer than with the other trainees. The crowd again started to shift restlessly, almost angrily. They didn’t want Ling anywhere near their precious Oracle, and that he had outmaneuvered them was already pushing their buttons.

“You shall test first,” the Oracle proclaimed. “In one hour, arrive at my rooms.” She took a slow step backward, her hand brushing across his forehead once before it returned to her side. “Go on,” she added for his ears only.

Ling bowed again, trying to hide his jubilation. He was allowed to test! Not only that, he would test first! It didn’t matter that someone elbowed him in the ribs as he hurried through the crowd and out of the room. He had been given a place of honor, one that usually meant high placement in his Caste. If he became a Master, they would be forced to respect him. No one would elbow him in the gut just because they could, not when he was a Caste Master and they a mere member.

He practically skipped down the halls, heading directly to the Oracle’s rooms before someone could think to stop him. The halls were strangely empty; everyone either watching the choosing or in training classes, their duties more important than their hatred of Ling.

“May I help you, trainee?” Elder Flame asked gently as Ling approached the massive doorway to the Oracle’s rooms. Normally there were four Masters of the Castes guarding the door, but three had been standing behind the Oracle during the choosing. Elder Flame had remained behind to secure the rooms for the Oracle’s return.

He was one of the few in the Monastery who didn’t judge Ling on his past. He didn’t appear to judge anyone, and truthfully, only his Dragon trainee had ever gotten him riled. Elder Flame was as gentle and calm as a candle flame that kept away the dark of night. That he could also be an inferno, furious and raging, was never evident. He hadn’t taken on another newly tested Fire Caste in the years since the Dragon of Fire had chosen to stay permanently in Altnoia. Ling didn’t know which Caste he wanted to test into, but he did know that having Elder Flame as his teacher would be wonderful.

“I have been chosen for testing, within the hour,” Ling replied with a grin he couldn’t keep off his face.

“Then may I offer you congratulations,” Elder Flame replied with a short bow of recognition of Ling’s accomplishment. “Enter and await the Oracle’s arrival.”

Elder Flame pulled the heavy doors open with apparent ease. He was still strong, despite his advancing age. His hair was pure white, his face deeply wrinkled, and his back bent, but the fire in him remained strong and vibrant regardless.

“Thank you, Elder Flame,” Ling replied with the deeper bow expected between a trainee and a Master. Ling stepped through the doorway and entered the Oracle’s rooms. There was a low table in the center with cushions on the floor instead of proper chairs. Ling took a seat and settled in to wait.

The testing chamber door was wide open. Ling had never heard of such a thing before, but then he hadn’t been allowed in the Oracle’s rooms since he had been five years old. The outer room hadn’t changed much in the intervening years. New cushions, a few new decorations, but overall, it was the same. Only the open door, leading into the one place Ling had never walked through in the Oracle’s rooms, was strange.

It called to him. He wanted to stand and walk through the doorway. He felt an urgent need, akin to nothing Ling had ever experienced before. He had to hold on to the table to keep from getting back to his feet.

Finally, the doors opened again. The Oracle stepped into the room with all four Masters of the Castes, who usually guarded outside, walking in behind her. They were to be his witnesses, Ling realized. No one else had stepped forward to verify his bare, untouched back before he walked into the testing chamber. No one else had cared enough about him to offer him five minutes of honor.

“Are you prepared?” the Oracle intoned, her voice filled with the age usually only visible in her eyes.

“I am prepared, Oracle,” Ling replied firmly as he let go of the table and got to his feet. Without needing to be told, Ling pulled his homespun shirt over his head. He dropped the shirt onto the table and turned so the Oracle and the Masters could see the blank canvas that was his back.

“Very well. Enter the chamber and be tested.”

Ling turned around once more and bowed deeply to the Oracle. Then he answered the insistent call of the testing chamber and walked forward. The door snapped shut after he crossed the threshold. The room was dark. Ling couldn’t see his hand in front of his face and had no idea where any of the walls were. Instead of walking forward and possibly breaking his nose when he walked into hard stone, Ling stayed exactly where he was.

After a while, he realized someone was screaming. It was a woman’s voice, high-pitched with excruciating pain. There were other voices too, men and women yelling things about blood and a baby’s foot.

“I don’t care if the baby is facing the wrong way!” the woman’s voice snapped, still shrill and broken as she gasped desperately for air.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

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

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New Release Blitz ~ Finding a Farmer By Jason Wrench (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Finding a Farmer By Jason Wrench

Word Count: 66,905
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 256

Genres:

BILLIONAIRE
CONTEMPORARY
CRIME
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

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Book Description

Sometimes you need a new job to put the important things in life into perspective. And sometimes love finds you when you least expect it…maybe even while picking apples.

Dale Devereux is an unemployed, spoiled rich kid on the cusp of turning thirty. His grandfather, Jameson, decides it’s time for Dale to learn the family business, so he sends him to work on one of the corporate farms in Woodstock, New York.

Talgat Kudaibergen is the twenty-seven-year-old who is currently running things at Deveraux Farms Upstate. He took over operations after his mother’s and father’s deaths. Along with his younger sister and brother, Ayala and Rasul, the three siblings have kept the farm running.

Dale finds out quickly that he has a lot to learn about living life outside the big city. Talgat and his siblings grow to appreciate Dale and what he’s able to bring to the farm.

Slowly, Dale and Talgat realize that they may have more in common than either imagined. The two start to have feelings for one another, but their romance is threatened when money goes missing from the farm’s coffers.

Reader advisory: This book contains mention of embezzlement, attempted murder, and cancer.

Excerpt

I glanced down at the Rolex watch my granddad had given me when I had finished my MBA a few years earlier. It’s not one of the crazy expensive ones. Of course, I’d had to google the price after he gave it to me. At the time, it was worth around ten grand—so, nothing to sneeze at, but still on the lower end of the Rolex scale. I’ve thought about upgrading it a couple of times but can’t bring myself to do it. Sure, I can afford a more expensive one. Between my day job working on Wall Street and my trust fund, I can afford almost anything I want.

I guess I should say my ‘former’ job on Wall Street, since that’s what I was celebrating—my getting fired. I wasn’t fired for cause or anything. My firm had scrolled back its trading arm in the US to focus on overseas markets. Thankfully, Granddad had taught me to squirrel away money. I’d been taking my skills on the trading room floor of the Stock Exchange and turning them into my private nest egg. There was something satisfying about having an account with seven figures that hadn’t been given to me by my family. At least the firm had waited until the Tuesday after Memorial Day to fire my ass. So, there I was on June first, drunk out of my mind.

I stared down at my empty glass, which was supposed to be filled with two shots of Belvedere Single Estate Lake Bartężek Vodka. I was about to raise my hand and order another one when I caught sight of my watch. I hadn’t realized it was this late already.

“Dudes, it’s ten-thirty,” I said, looking at my two drinking companions.

On my left was my best friend in the universe, Grayson Jackson. Grayson and I had met when we were attending The Quad Preparatory School in Manhattan. And with a seventy-five-thousand-dollar-a-year price tag, The Quad opened the doors to go anywhere we wanted. We’d both ended up at Harvard, for the fun of it. After making it through our undergraduate years barely sober, I’d gone off to their MBA program, and Grayson had gone to law school. Now we were both single, hot, wealthy guys in their late twenties getting everything we ever wanted out of life. We’d lived by the ‘work hard, play harder’ motto our entire adult lives.

On my right was Avery Addington, my sort of on-again, off-again lover or fuck buddy. He’s a couple of years younger than me. I had met him on a dating app and figured it would be a onetime hookup, but he’d ended up sticking around. I called him my ‘on-again, off-again boyfriend’ because I didn’t know what the hell we are. Hell, I didn’t know if we even were at that point. We weren’t exclusive, that much I knew. God, the idea of being in a long-term relationship gave me heart palpitations—and not the good kind. I liked my freedom. I enjoyed doing what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it. If I found a hot guy at a bar and I wanted to fuck him senseless in the back room, then I took him into the back room, bent him over and showed him the best time of his life. And while I’m an admitted slut, I was on PREP and played safely…most of the time. And despite my use of protection, I got regular checkups to make sure I hadn’t contracted anything. Shit happens.

“It’s already ten-thirty?” Avery slurred. “How long have we been drinking?”

I found myself with my mouth open, on the verge of responding, but I honestly did not know what time we’d gotten there. I tilted my head to the side and glanced at Grayson, because I knew he’d know.

Grayson rolled his eyes. “You texted me about four, and I got here about five-thirty. You said you’d just gotten here, which I figured meant you had at least thirty minutes on me already. Based on this, you’ve been here drinking for six hours,” he said with the emotion of a forensic accountant. Oh, I should have mentioned that Grayson had also gotten a master’s in accounting after law school from NYU. He worked for the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office in accounting crimes—or something like that. Honestly, when he talked about numbers, I daydreamed. I enjoyed making money and could tell you all about bulls and bears, but when it came to the day-to-day math part, I tuned out. I liked the game of making money, the strategy of making money—hence, why I have an accountant who handled my books.

“I don’t feel drunk,” I heard myself say right before I started touching my forehead. “But I can’t feel my forehead.”

“Okay,” Grayson grumbled. “I hate to be the adult in the room, but I have work in the morning, so I’ve gotta get out of here. Can you two make it home?”

“Your place or mine?” I asked Avery.

“Yours. It’s closer.”

“We can call my car service.” No worries.

Grayson shook his head and grabbed my phone off the table. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m calling your car service.”

“But we’re not ready to leave yet,” Avery whined.

“Yeah, I think you two are.”

“But, Dad,” I complained.

“I’ve gotta go,” Grayson said flatly. “And I’m not leaving you two to your own devices. To keep my conscience clean, I’m putting you in a car and sending you on your way. What you do after that is up to you.”

I thought about objecting, but I knew Grayson was right. I’d had my pity party and would have to get up and join the world of the unemployed the next morning. Thankfully, between my granddad’s and my contacts, I was sure I wouldn’t be unemployed for too long. Honestly, I didn’t understand why some people stay unemployed. It’s like, why don’t they use their personal and family networks to get a new job? It’s not like it’s that difficult.

Grayson got up and put his suit coat back on.

“How can you wear a suit in this heat?” I questioned.

“Don’t you wear a suit to the office?” Grayson asked.

“Oh yeah,” I said, as I tried to stand and realized my eyes were going in and out of focus. Grayson reached out and steadied me until I got my feet firmly planted below me. “Whoa, maybe I’ve had too much to drink.”

“You think?” Grayson asked.

Once I was fully standing and the lightheadedness had passed, I helped Avery to his feet and the three of us exited the bar and grill after paying our tabs. I didn’t know how much this evening was going to cost me. I’d handed over my American Express Black Card and given my signature. I’d worry about the expense later.

Thankfully, my car service arrived right as Grayson’s Uber did. I shuffled into the car, sliding over so Avery could get in. Once Avery closed the door, the driver took off. I put my arm around Avery and rested my head on his shoulder. I felt his arm sneak around and pat the side of my head as he leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of my head.

Why aren’t we dating? I thought to myself, as I was almost on the verge of falling asleep.

“We’re here,” the driver said.

“Thanks. That was fast,” I muttered as I untangled myself from Avery, who had fallen asleep.

“What?” Avery said as I jostled him awake.

“We’re at my place.”

“I must have fallen asleep.”

“Well, duh,” I said, reaching over him to open the door.

I nudged him out of the car and followed before gently closing the door. I stared up at my apartment building, noticing all the lights in the windows were turned on.

I walked into Twenty Exchange, where I have a two-bedroom apartment. For its location and proximity to Wall Street, Twenty Exchange is an ideal apartment complex for the up-and-coming business type in Manhattan. Not only is it in the heart of Wall Street, but it also caters to an exclusive tenant list. When I decided I wanted to live there, I had my granddad pull a few strings to get me to the top of the list for a new two-bedroom apartment when one opened up, which wasn’t often. But here I was, four years later and I’m still living here, paying my four-thousand-dollar-a-month rent. Maybe one day I’ll break down and buy a condo in the city. But for the time being, I’m okay with renting. I’ve always liked the idea that I could choose to move at the end of my lease if I wanted to.

The doorman opened the door for us with a polite bow of his head. “Good evening, Mr. Devereaux.”

“Good evening, Jack,” I responded. “How are the kids?”

“They enter the first grade this year,” the uniformed man responded. He had the look that all proud fathers get when they realize their kids are growing up much faster than expected.

“Wow! Already… I can’t believe it,” I said with a smile. “Well, good night.”

“You, too, Mr. Deveraux.”

Granddad had taught me early in life to always respect those people in service positions. He was a whiz at remembering names, birthdates, anniversaries and all kinds of other facts. Me? I was happy I could remember someone’s first name and maybe one or two details about their lives, but I tried.

Avery and I made our way to the elevator banks. I pushed the button, then leaned against the wall to make the marble around me stop spinning. I haven’t been this wasted since my first year in college.

I heard the ding of the door and sort of spun myself into the elevator then hit the button for the fifty-fifth floor. Avery was leaning against me by this point as the elevator doors slid shut.

The ride up was smooth and uneventful. When the elevator opened onto my floor, Avery and I stumbled out and made it the few feet to my door. I whipped out my key card and let myself into the apartment.

“I’m going to get a bottle of water.” I asked Avery, “You want one?”

“Yeah, we should definitely hydrate after all this alcohol. I’m going to take a leak first.”

I didn’t watch him make his way to the bathroom, but I heard him as he bumped into one wall and tried to apologize to it.

I made my way into the kitchen, opened the fridge door and pulled out a bottle of Glacial Flow, a bottled water company that harvested water from fifteen-thousand-year-old glaciers. Each twenty-four-ounce bottle cost something like sixteen dollars, but I liked it and loved the conversation starter it provided me when I was drinking one at work. I could always talk about saving the planet and our melting icecaps while I was drinking one. Trust me, the irony wasn’t lost on me.

I twisted off the top and took a swig, savoring the crisp taste before swallowing. I leaned against the fridge, took a second sip and noticed that my answering machine light was blinking. Okay, I know what you’re thinking. Who has an answering machine in the twenty-first century? Well, I do. And it’s connected to my home line. I know, who has one of those in this century?

I’d broken down and gotten myself a home line and answering machine when I had to work from home for six months during the pandemic. I could have done everything through my cell phone, but I figured having an actual phone with a headset attached was going to make my life easier while I stared at the four-monitor terminal I’d set up in the spare bedroom. I lived in the one bedroom, and the second one had become my home office. I figured the only people who ever stayed over with me slept in my bed, so I didn’t need a spare room. Besides, a spare room seemed like an utter waste of space. Who needs to have a bedroom that is only used when they have company over? I don’t get that. If someone is coming for a visit, I’ll put them up in a luxurious hotel, not my apartment. Again, I liked my space.

I walked over to the flashing red light, put both water bottles on the island separating the kitchen from the dining area and pushed the button.

“Dale, it’s your granddad. I heard through the grapevine that you were let go from your firm today. I’m sorry to hear that, but I think it’s the perfect opportunity to talk to you about the family business. Why don’t you show up at my office tomorrow morning at seven a.m. for breakfast?”

Well, fuck!

“How the hell does he already know?”

“Who knows what?” Avery asked, coming into the kitchen. I picked up one of the bottles of water and offered it to him. I turned around, leaned my hip against the island, unscrewed the cap on my bottle again and took another swig.

“My granddad. He already knows about my being let go today. I swear he has spies that watch my every move.”

“You don’t think he’d actually do that, do you?” Avery questioned, scrunching up his face in an expression I couldn’t read.

“No. It’s a figure of speech…or maybe hyperbole. In reality, Granddad knows too many people in this town. I can’t say that I’m too surprised, though, but I wish I’d been the one to tell him. You know?”

I glanced over at the clock on the microwave, and it read eleven-twenty p.m. “Dear God, I have to be up in five hours.”

“Five hours?”

“If I’m going to get to his office by seven a.m., I’m going to have to get up at four-thirty to hit the gym.”

“Why not skip tomorrow?”

“Because you don’t look this amazing by skipping the gym,” I said. I attempted to wink at Avery, but I’m sure my wink probably appeared more like some kind of facial spasm. “Let’s just crash.”

I grabbed Avery’s hand and led him down the hall to my bedroom. I wished I could text my granddad and say I wouldn’t be able to see him in the morning, but I knew that when you’re summoned by my granddad, you show up—whether you like it or not.

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About the Author

Jason Wrench

Jason Wrench is a professor in the Department of Communication at SUNY New Paltz and has authored/edited 15+ books and over 35 academic research articles. He is also an avid reader and regularly reviews books for publishers in a wide number of genres. This book marks his first full-length work of fiction.

Find out more about Jason at his website.

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New Release Blitz: Conspiracy by M.D. Neu (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Conspiracy

Series: A New World, Book Three

Author: M.D. Neu

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/16/2022

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 126800

Genre: Sci Fi, LGBTQIA+, Space travel, aliens, politics, grief, interspecies romance

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Description

A little blue world, the third planet from the sun. It’s home to seven billion people with all manner of faiths, beliefs and customs, divided by bigotry and misunderstanding, who have been told they are not alone in the universe. Anyone watching from the outside would pass by this fractured and tumultuous world, unless they had no other choice.

It’s been a little over a year since Todd Landon’s life changed with the arrival of the Nentraee. Continuing his duties as Special Envoy for Terran Affairs, Todd finally feels at home with the aliens; gaining more responsibility and influence with both races. Plans are underway for two Interplanetary spaceports and additional solar exploration. It’s an exciting time for both the humans and the Nentraee.

Not everything is as perfect as some hope. Speaker General Mirtoff and Vice-Speaker Mi’ko of the Nentraee are worried that the Liberi Dei plot additional terrorist attacks and may have inside help. Threats are clear, but who can they trust? Could Todd be helping them unknowingly or worse covertly? Will these new space endeavors continue to bring the human and the Nentraee together or will a conspiracy hiding in the shadows fracture an already shaky alliance?

Excerpt

Conspiracy
M.D. Neu © 2022
All Rights Reserved

The Security Training area appeared ordinary, especially since the space was in a secured part of the ship. Yes, the area had grass and a few shrubs outside the façade, but the endless sky feeling didn’t exist here; overall, this area had been built more for function and less for form. Still, Todd was glad he had access to the location, and the gym had everything they needed for a good workout. He had even managed to have the Nentraee bring up some human gym equipment for his use, as he didn’t want to risk his life on the Nentraee equipment. Sure, the human machines got a few odd looks from the Nentraee security when he and Dan used them, but Vi-Narm confided in him several of the security personnel had tried the pieces and used them when no humans were around.

He cracked his neck, thinking of his earlier conversation with Brad. Seeing his brother again would be a nice treat, and Brad had been correct: too much time had passed since Todd had seen Brad or the rest of his family down on Earth. The infrequent visits weren’t all his fault; so much had changed over the last year, and he had a lot of work to do, especially knowing Liberi Dei continued to lurk out there, waiting. A shudder ran down his spine. Martha’s words still haunted him.

Too bad you won’t live long enough to find out. What had she been organizing? Her death was a shame really, killed by her own people before he found out what she and Liberi Dei actually wanted. However, they were still out there planning. Which added to his frustration of late: Mi’ko and Mirtoff no longer included him in anything to do with the terrorist organization, saying keeping him detached from the matter kept him safe.

Todd had no reason to doubt them, but something tickled the back of his mind and he wasn’t sure if this was the only reason they kept him in the dark about Liberi Dei.

He missed the tick of his pocket watch.

So much has changed.

He dug through his bag, pulled out his pocket watch, and checked the time.

“Where is he?” Todd huffed and put the timepiece in his gym bag, his hand brushing along the cool surface of his datapad.

Dan should have been here twenty minutes ago; at this rate Todd would barely have enough time for their workout and for him to get changed and ready for the interview.

A chirp called his attention.

Todd reached into his bag and pulled out his datapad. Now what? He tapped the pad to activate the device.

“Dan!” Todd’s voice called out louder than he had hoped, but no one around him seemed to notice. “Where are you? You’re late.”

“I know.” Dan’s expression remained flat with no Danness to flavor his words. “Listen, I’m heading to Earth. I have to see my family and take care of some things.”

“What? Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Dan’s tone faltered and his expression sank. “They’re fine, sorry; just a lot going on and my mom isn’t getting any younger.”

“I get it, my parents–”

“Look, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“When you–”

The communications ended and the Nentraee seal appeared.

“What the hell?” Todd shook his head and dropped the pad into his bag.

Todd raked a hand through his hair. Well, now he would have plenty of time to get ready for the interview. He made his way over to the lockers to change into his work clothes and ceremonial robe. Once Todd cleaned up, he made his way out of the locker room.

“Special Envoy.” A deep familiar voice caught Todd’s attention as he left the facility.

He turned to see Vi-Narm standing there in the equivalent of workout wear: loose pants and a flowy top.

“Hi, Vi-Narm.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to meet with GNN?”

Todd nodded. “I planned to get in some training with Dan today, but…”

“If you would like to train, I would be happy to workout with you, after your duties.” Vi-Narm tossed her long ponytail over her shoulder.

Todd picked at his deep-blue ceremonial cloak, the one given to him by Mi’ko and Mirtoff to represent his standing in Nentraee society. The cloak draped over his shoulders, and the wide embroidered collar with silver stitching sparkled as the threads caught the light. He checked the two large silver clasps with matching deep-blue stones attaching the cloak to his shoulders. The ends of the cloak fell to the floor, revealing the embroidery as the stitching continued down to each of the eight symbols representing the Nentraee clans and the one representing humans.

“Do I look okay?” Todd asked.

“You look respectable for your position and the purpose of your meeting,” Vi-Narm said.

“And with that not-so-shining endorsement, I’ll head off.” He winked at her. “Thanks for the offer to work out. I’ll have to take you up on the suggestion, especially if Dan keeps ditching me.”

On his way out, he gave one more glance over his shoulder to the facility and the surrounding area. Dan and he were supposed to work out twice a week, and yet over the last several months Dan had cancelled many of their get-togethers, not just the workouts. Each time they met, Dan appeared more preoccupied. More distant. Todd shook his head. At least he still had Brad’s visit to look forward to, even if he would be here for work and not play.

He felt the tick of his pocket watch and marched on in time with each tick. Once he found a viewport, he glanced out, seeing one of the Speaker General’s ship’s parks. A group of xĩmé flew by, the deep blue of their feathers a contrast to the yellow leaves of the nabutimaba tree. He chuckled and shook his head. Recent events seemed insane to him, like something out of some sci-fi series.

“What a year.” He sighed as he continued on.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

M.D. Neu is an award-winning queer Fiction Writer with a love for writing and travel. Living in the heart of Silicon Valley (San Jose, California) and growing up around technology, he’s always been fascinated with what could be. Specifically drawn to Science Fiction and Paranormal television and novels, M.D. Neu was inspired by the great Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, Stephen King, Alice Walker, Alfred Hitchcock, Harvey Fierstein, Anne Rice, and Kim Stanley Robinson. An odd combination, but one that has influenced his writing.

Growing up in an accepting family as a gay man he always wondered why there were never stories reflecting who he was. Constantly surrounded by characters that only reflected heterosexual society, M.D. Neu decided he wanted to change that. So, he took to writing, wanting to tell good stories that reflected our diverse world.

When M.D. Neu isn’t writing, he works for a non-profit and travels with his biggest supporter and his harshest critic, Eric his husband of twenty plus years.

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

Title:  The Devil’s Lover

Series: Hellbound 5

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: August 12

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 149 pages

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

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Synopsis

Lionel and Lucifer are drawn deeper into a murder case, but they are set on solving it together.

Just when Lionel’s love life has gone back to normal — normal meaning the kinky Devil making his ownership known — Lionel’s murder case gets stranger. Lionel’s birth father seems to have his hands in the mystery, and Lionel finds himself in the sights of Eris, goddess of discord.

Lucifer used to be a prime example of a powerful underworld deity with all the knowledge and skill to take care of a lover in the bedroom. But that was before Lucifer fell properly in love and won over his necromantic boyfriend, who also happens to be a demigod. Lionel’s innate magic, magical skill, and stubborn nature make it exceedingly difficult for Lucifer to be the alpha god he wants to be for Lionel.

Lucifer is set on finding a way to provide for the man he loves and to fulfill Lionel’s every desire. But before he can focus entirely on his necromancer, the two of them must solve the case, prevent primordial deities from being raised and destroying the world, and learn to communicate better. It’s what relationships and crime solving are all about.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

Lionel

The Devil’s body in front of mine, protecting me from a threat I didn’t quite understand, that was a new and uncomfortable feeling, and something I didn’t really care for. I tried getting a decent look at the deity that had teleported into Lucifer’s doorless office, but the Devil his own damn self kept pushing me back. It was so annoying when he was trying to be an alpha god.

“Will you cut it out, Beelzebug?” I grumbled, and Trony, in her pink tartan skirt and with her sword in hand, gave me an admiring look.

Nyx, the deity that had Lucifer so riled, chuckled and turned their milky, unseeing eyes on me. “You are a fierce one. Tiamat has said as much.”

And speak of the dragon mother, she appeared in the office as well, which was fine, apart from the fact that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Awesome.

“What is going on here? Nyx, do you have to scare the children?” the dragon mother said and crossed her arms under her breasts. Not that I was paying any attention to her breasts, but it was sort of hard not to notice they existed. Why did all gods have trouble with clothing? Buttons and zippers really weren’t all that bad.

“Children?” Lucifer said and straightened before pulling me to his side and circling my waist with his arm in a proud <em>look, this is my boyfriend</em> kind of way. Apparently in his mind, the presence of the dragon mother lessened the threat level in his office.

“No one in this room was scared,” Metatron said and flashed her sword.

“What were you saying about Eris?” I asked the blind god… then realized looking at them wouldn’t be enough to cue them in on the fact I was speaking with them. “I mean, Nyx. You were saying about Eris?”

The sightless god turned to face me. “Eager as any human, aren’t you?” They smiled. “Or as the Devil dispensing deals.”

Tiamat clapped her hands. “If you have something to say about Eris, I am interested. I don’t appreciate her harassing poor, lovesick humans around the corner, but I think we can talk while also eating, can’t we?”

Metatron nodded. “I second that. The necromancer has been turning his nose up at my food since his return from Scotland, and he looks worse for wear.”

“I haven’t!” I said. “And I don’t! It’s just been a busy few days, and there were corpses.”

“Humans are quite frail and need regular nourishment, even those who are only partially so,” Nyx said, and they and the dragon mother nodded knowingly.

Lucifer glowered at the other god. “I know best what my boyfriend needs,” he said, but I could tell I was in for eating my breakfast out of the Devil’s hands while sitting in his lap.

* * *

Lucifer was indeed behaving like a total alpha god, and it reminded me that I should call Persephone and give her an update, but that would mean looking at my phone and seeing whatever social media was now making of the sharkomancer incident. Maybe I should still tell her about the minotaur… but what would I even tell her about that? It was confusing, the way I felt or should feel about Minos, and I was actually glad to be dealing with something else right about now.

The dragon mother, Nyx, and Lucifer and I teleported to the already set dining room table, and I tried to grab a chair, but Lucifer wouldn’t let me go. He pulled me close and tilted my chin up.

“How about I take you to Sephy’s and Hades’ place? It’s almost the weekend anyway, and you trained Marc Deacon well. I am sure he can handle things here while you relax a little,” Lucifer said. He was doing his best at looking charming, dashing, someone you didn’t want to say no to. His kitty-cat hair was catching the light just so.

In one word, he was a transparent, overprotective alpha god, and he was trying to lull me into damseling myself, or whatever you’d call it. “You are not benching me,” I said. “I will raise the minotaur, even if it’s –” If it was what? A way for me to get back at him? To make sure he was very and truly dead? I shook my head. “I’ll raise him. I can do my fucking job, whether you believe that or not, Beelzebug.”

Lucifer’s face soured, but then he kissed my forehead. “I know you can, my love, but you don’t have to.”

“What are you saying about raising the minotaur?” Tiamat said. She had put on a bathrobe, just a thin one that hugged her every curve and still revealed a lot, but it was better than nothing. Which was the alternative.

Lucifer hugged me close. “He was apparently murdered in his cell at the human prison not too long ago. Christine just called with the news.”

“The minotaur,” Nyx said, and I wiggled out of Lucifer’s hold and even managed to sit in my own chair instead of the Devil’s lap. My goals had shifted over the past few months, and today, this was an achievement, and I knew it. “He was a powerful human sorcerer,” the blind god went on. They used their cane to find a chair opposite the dragon mother. Lucifer moved his chair at the head of the table to the left, toward my own, until he was sitting right next to me.

“You knew him?” I asked. “How did you know the minotaur?”

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

Meet the Author

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

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Book Blitz: Public Obedience by Kira Stone (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Public Obedience

Author: Kira Stone

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: August 12

Heat Level: 5 – Erotica

Pairing: Male/Male Menage

Length: 37 pages

Genre: Erotica, New Adult, BDSM, Contemporary, Multiple Partners, Voyeurism and Exhibitionism

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Synopsis

They’ve only been together nine months, but Bay thinks Court is the submissive he’s been looking for, a lifetime keeper. If the night goes as planned, Court will have to prove he loves and trusts Bay more than ever before. Is Court up to the challenge?

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Kira Stone

My cell phone rang, announcing the caller. Like I needed the memo. “Hey.”

“When, where and how?” Court said by way of greeting.

Eager tonight. Excellent. “Around eight, a new place, and we’re taking the bike but don’t complicate the clothing.”

“Got it.”

Dial tone. Good boy.

I did my own cleanup, even straightened a few cushions on the flat spring couch. Damn thing wouldn’t sell at a garage sale, but hey, I didn’t use it much and it fit in with the rest of the house. My house, without owing a dime on it.

I ran my hand over my thighs, adjusted my cock, and checked myself out in the tarnished bathroom mirror. I figured I’d aged like any man should, rough around the edges but fighting off the fat with some success.

Headlights flashed through the living room right at eight p.m. Court just kept me smiling. I picked up the small black bag on the counter. The catch-all dish next to it caught my eye. Tonight? It couldn’t hurt to take it along just in case.

I picked up the small piece of cut metal and stuck it in my right front pocket. I grabbed my leather jacket on my way out the door.

Court stood by the bike, waiting for me. Even though we’d just pick up more dust as we rode, he had cleaned it up a little. I tossed him the bag, which he caught and stored in the space under the seat.

Until he rode with me, Court had always called motorcycles by their nickname, donorcycles. Yeah, you could die on one. You could die in your bed too.

This one, however, had been accessorized to be as comfortable as possible without turning it into a car. Real bikers would jeer at us, but this had been a good compromise between Court and me. And one very important one.

I walked around the bike to where he was standing. I put my hand at the back of his head and drew him toward me. His arms slid around my waist, under the coat, and I held him there, studying his eyes in the moonlight.

So many people underestimated what you could see in a person’s eyes. Court’s told me he was calm under my touch, excited about the mystery night I had planned, and under that was the love for me I always found no matter what other mood those deep blue eyes reflected.

I lowered my mouth to his and kissed him. Sounds simple, but we’d turned the meeting of lips into a fine art of touch and taste and bonding. It said more than “hello,” but rather, “I feel so much better for being with you.”

Feelings. Gawd. I thought I’d left them behind me in high school, along with girls and the coward who couldn’t fight or run fast enough to escape the crap in life.

“It’s go time,” I whispered against his lips.

“Plans?”

“Should be a good night. Just sit back and let me drive.”

Court was a submissive. I didn’t like saying I was his Master as if I owned him. Court remained independent at all times, but he had yet to refuse anything I asked of him. Then again, I knew his limits and he trusted me not to cross them. Tonight I’d be testing both his limits and his trust.

We rode out of town, even farther into the countryside than usual. For maybe an hour, I took us over low hills and lazy curves until finally I saw the neon sign I’d been looking for. I turned the bike into a gravel lot and surveyed the place.

Court squeezed my waist. “Here?”

Okay, so it wasn’t a five star. It might even hang somewhere between one and two judging by the outside. But a country beat drifted out along with the smell of greasy home cooking. People were knocking balls around on a pool table. A lot of pickup trucks were in the parking lot, but handling straight guys was always part of the challenge.

“Yeah.”

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Meet the Author

Kira Stone lives in a warm cave tucked away in the remote Scottish Highlands, where a small band of ever-changing heroes serves as company. As they relax in front of a roaring fire, demons dance in leather pants and angels stroke tunes from the harp strings, while the Fae stop in to share tales from other worlds. Bound by pen and imagination, these are the folk who wait to greet you from the pages of Kira’s stories. Visit Kira’s Website.

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