Grayality by Carey PW

General Release Date: 12th July 2022

Word Count:  78,383
Book Length:SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 308

Genres:

BISEXUAL
COMEDY AND HUMOUR
CONTEMPORARY
GAY
GLBTQI
ROMANCE
TRANSGENDER

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Book Description

Love knows no gender.

Pate Boone, a twenty-six-year-old transgender man, embarks on a new adventure when his childhood best friend, and yes, ex-lover, Oakley Ogden, convinces him to escape their hometown in hopes for something new.

They land in Cloverleaf, a tiny rural town in Montana, so that Oakley can care for his granny who is battling breast cancer. She pressures the two young men to enroll in a nearby college. Pate immediately becomes enthralled with Maybelle, a young, vivacious freshman to whom he fears revealing his transgender identity. Still, he finds it impossible to resist Maybelle, even after he meets her ex, Bullet, a large, violent man determined to keep Pate away from “his girl.”

But there are others who accept Pate immediately, like Stormy. An outdoorsy, rugged freshman, Stormy warns Pate away from Maybelle and Bullet, but Pate’s too infatuated to heed these warnings.

Oakley tries to support his friend’s new love but finds himself entangled in his own emotional calamity when he unintentionally falls for Jody, a gay and ostentatiously confident drag queen. This new relationship awakens deep internal conflicts in Oakley as he struggles to accept his bisexuality, lashing out at Pate and causing friction between him and Jody.

Oakley must decide if he can overcome his insecurities so he doesn’t lose the love of his life. And Pate must discover if the love between him and Maybelle is strong enough for her to accept him as a transgender man, or if she will break his heart.

Reader advisory: This book contains references to homophobia, transphobia, physical assault and a past suicide attempt. There is use of marijuana and smoking, as well as mentions of gender dysphoria and past sexual assault.

Excerpt

How did I get here?

The question engulfed me as my eyes cringed and my guts tensed up as Oakley and I flew down the highway going seventy-five miles per hour. All I saw were miles of flat earth, lazy summer cows and the occasional rolling hill extending off into some unknown horizon. It looked distant and hopeless.

I was twenty-six years old and going nowhere. The only thing that I’d ever known for certain was that I wanted to be a man. I spent most of my high school days and early twenties working endless shifts at whatever hourly wage job would have me. I also worked small tutoring jobs, helping high school drop-outs study for their GEDs, or helping kids in the neighborhood get through high school trigonometry. Luckily, I got a steady gig as a bartender in East Atlanta that offered full-time benefits and insurance, something I had thought was an elusive dream. It took years of sacrifice and slaving away to scrape together enough funds to pay for my hormones and, eventually, my top surgery. Of course, kids typically stay on their parents’ insurance until their mid-twenties (thanks Obama!), but I was not welcome at home anymore and didn’t want to bug my parents for their insurance card. So I had to do it on my own.

I performed well in high school and later in college, maintaining a four-point-oh average and getting enough scholarships to help me fund my bachelor’s degree in English education. However, when I realized that I was transgender, college just wasn’t a priority anymore. I dropped out after two years to work full-time and earn more money for treatment.

Now, my current transitioning journey had been halted. I’d been taking hormones for more than two years and had top surgery ten months ago. I had no more funds to pursue the full transition, the coveted bottom surgery. I was now more visibly a man, but I was a man with no job, no more money and no support, except for Oakley.

Oakley and I met in the first grade. He was the typical “rebel” southerner who wore death metal shirts and played lead guitar in a death metal band. Oakley was my first everything. First friend, first real boyfriend (good ol’ ninth grade) and first sexual experience.

Oakley had a slow start into adulthood. He came close to marrying a girl he met after high school. Her family owned a dry-cleaning business, and they let Oakley manage one of their stores. A few years later, the girl got pregnant, and it seemed that Oakley’s future was set. For someone so rebellious, here he was getting married, having babies, buying a home and working in the family business. What a sell-out, I thought. A few months before the wedding, the girl told him that she had been seeing the drummer in his metal band and that the baby was the spawn of their passionate, clandestine romance that occurred often in the backseat of his truck while Oakley was tuning his guitar. Oakley never fully recovered.

Here we are, years later, Oakley childless, and me breastless.

A few months ago, Oakley’s grandmother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was having a double mastectomy done in Seattle and would be returning to her ranch in a small town in Eastern Montana. She needed someone to take care of her and provide transportation for medical appointments. She offered Oakley free room and board, homecooked Granny meals and a beautiful, skyscraper-free skyline. Her only caveat was that she wanted Oakley to enroll in the local university and hold a part-time job. Since he had spent his childhood and adolescent years taking many trips to Montana for snowboarding and skiing, Oakley claimed that he was ready for a change and that the South just wasn’t where his soul belonged. Too afraid to embark on this new Pacific Northwest adventure on his own, he talked his grandmother into letting me move with him.

Neither of us grew up in urban, crowded, skyscraper jungles, but we were products of endless major highways with exits every five to ten miles that glowed under golden arches and gas station beams. As Oakley’s 2004 Pontiac Sunfire flew up Highway 2, my eyes frantically searched for lights, gas stations, food and civilization, only to see nothing more than flat earth and cattle ranches every time our car passed over a hill. I think I will need to develop a strong bladder.

“Are you sure that there is a town on this road?” I asked, more to myself than Oakley. “And why the fuck is it so cold? It’s freakin’ July!” I shoved my hands into my armpits in futile hopes of warmth. All my clothes were packed tight into old suitcases and garbage bags in the trunk, and I was sporting a tight-fitting black tank to show off my petite but toned biceps. But when our little Sunfire pulled into the dark, shady gas station along the Montana and North Dakota border, my face was met with a slap of icy cold wind and droplets of rain, sending a piercing shiver up my spine. I checked the weather on my phone. It read forty-five degrees.

“I’ve never actually driven here. We’ve always flown in from Billings in the eight-seater plane. Trust me, it will look better when we reach Cloverleaf,” Oakley calmly assured me.

Rising up from the conservative Southern trenches that had filled my belly with a large, hardened rock, I had learned to keep my mouth shut and my head down. As my eyes scoured the landscape of dilapidated derelict buildings and closed businesses when our car arrived in town, my heart wasn’t optimistic that Cloverleaf was going to be the place for me to thrive. As I looked closely at a man climbing out of his gargantuan four-by-four truck, I could just make out the ruggedness of his dirty hands with bloody cracks, his stiff, muddy boots that were probably black underneath all the dirt, and his deep forehead wrinkles from the hours in the blazing sun and frigid wind. Even if men here accepted me as a man, I didn’t know how I would interact with this form of masculinity. Instead, I gently caressed my soft, delicate, feminine hands.

I wasn’t a man’s man, yet in some ways, I was. I’d always been athletic. I played sports in elementary and middle school before quitting to work during high school. I was never talented, always preferring to support the good players rather than put myself out there, especially with the form-fitting uniforms that showcased my bouncy breasts when I ran. However, sports offered me a good excuse to exercise and stay fit in an attempt to avoid developing female curves.

Even after I started working, I still jogged three miles daily and lifted weights to make everything as lean and tight as possible. It took about a year and a half for the testosterone to thin me out like a man. As I ran my hands along my thigh bones that were hugged by my runner’s muscles, then along my abdomen where I could now feel the subtle crevices that nearly formed a complete six-pack, I finally adored my body. Years of working out and restricting my diet still left a hovering, protruding belly of fat that stuck out, and round hips that insisted on telling the whole world that I was a woman and never allowed me to have the body that my exercise efforts and heart cried out for. I scratched between my legs, waking up from my physical admiration as my genitals reminded me that I was still only half a man.

“You’ll be fine. There’s still a lot of pretty girls around here. And we’ll be hot stuff because we’re new and exotic,” Oakley sang as he rubbed his septum bullring piercing, causing his shirt sleeve to rise, revealing his array of skull tattoos.

Oakley and I were similar guys. We both had small, skinny physiques that prevented us from appearing like tough, dominant masculines, so we chose to paint our bodies with as many skulls, horror tattoos and gag-inducing piercings as possible to prove our masculinity in another kind of “tough” way. After all, I didn’t think that truck-driving ranching man who I saw at the last town was “man enough” to stick a needle in his septum or through his penis, as Oakley bravely did a few weeks ago. Yet, I felt that our masculinity was always dismissed because it didn’t follow stereotypical displays that involved driving trucks, getting dirty or flexing muscles. On the other hand, maybe it was all in my head.

“How do you suggest that I date around here?” I asked, throwing my hand up at the ocean of perpetual brown fields. “It would only take two seconds before everyone here knows I’m a freak.”

“You’re not a freak.”

“Yeah, well, say that to all the other men without vaginas.” I crossed my arms.

“I think there are a lot of women who wouldn’t care. Women are more open with their sexuality,” he argued.

“But then you add the no job, no money, no car—”

“We’ll get jobs,” he interrupted me. “There’s always hourly work around here. That’s easy. You can save up for a car. And we’re going to college, so our financial situation is acceptable.”

“Are you really into the college thing?” I challenged.

“Are you?” Oakley turned his eyes sideways to search for any dishonesty.

I heaved in a gulp of air as I looked away from him and focused my gaze on a worn-down Misfits sticker on his dashboard.

“What?” he urged.

“It’s just a waste of time,” I grumbled.

“You’re a good teacher. You’re going to be a good teacher—”

“No one is going to hire or accept a trans teacher in schools. Even if I get certified and hired, if I am ‘discovered’”—I made quotation marks with my fingers—“it’s over. And even if it’s not, I don’t want to put up the fight, you know?”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not trying to be some transgender freedom fighter.” I sighed. “I just don’t want anyone around here to know about it, okay? Like don’t tell anybody.”

“Granny knows,” he reminded me.

“Besides Granny.”

“Okay.”

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About the Author

Carey PW

Writing has always been my passion, as well as the way that I process my own life experiences. I am an openly transgender (AFAB), panromantic asexual living in rural Montana. There are few LGBTQIA+ resources here, and I always feel there is more room needed for LGBTQIA+ literary works. I have always written fiction as a hobby and earned a B.A. in English Literature and a M.Ed. in English Education from the University of Georgia; however, I ended up earning a Ph.D. in 2013, which moved most of my writing to the academic genre in which I have published several co-authored articles in peer-reviewed academic journals.

After coming out as transgender in 2018 and as asexual in 2020, I decided to refocus my writing on LGBTQIA+ themes in which I write about my own experiences through fictional characters and stories. Writing about my experiences has been extremely therapeutic for me. I am particularly enthralled with the complexities behind LGBTQIA+ identities and highly advocate that sexuality and gender identity exists on a spectrum. This topic is highly personal because my husband married me when I presented as a woman and was adamant that he could not be with a man. He underwent his own process of reevaluating his sexuality and now identifies as bisexual with a preference for women and feminine men. I think he is a wonderful example of the true fluidity behind sexuality.

Likewise, I choose to write about what it means to be LGBTQIA+ in a rural community like my current residence in Montana. Rural communities offer their own unique challenges due to little to no existing resources in some areas and a true feeling of isolation and invisibility. I want to share my experience coming out in a rural community and choosing to live openly as a transgender person and openly in a same-sex marriage.

Additionally, I work full-time as a human services instructor and a mental health counselor at a community college. Through this work, I also educate and advocate for the LGBTQIA+ community. My work as an educator and a counselor fuels my desire to use my fiction to increase awareness and acceptance for LGBTQIA+ people. Lastly, I would characterize my writing as person-centered, a term created by Carl Rogers as a counseling therapy and later as a life philosophy. My works center around the beauty and extraordinary complexity in being vulnerably authentic.

Check out Carey’s website and Instagram.

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(Mis)Taken by Katy Hunter

Book 3 in the Mixed Emotions series

General Release Date: 12th July 2022

Word Count:  51,026
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 202

Genres:

CELEBRITIES
CHICK LIT
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
FAKE RELATIONSHIPS

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Book Description

Falling in love with her best friend’s twin brother was never Penny’s plan, but the Spanish ocean breeze, the cutest puppy and the promise that he’ll never, ever propose might just change her mind…

When three-times-engaged Penny Farthing dumps her latest loser fiancé the day before her wedding, she packs a bag and prepares to jet off on her honeymoon with her best friend. Her plans go awry when she bumps into global superstar Dan Scott in the airport and finds herself agreeing to spend the next week with him and his family in his private villa, pretending to be his fiancée.

Pacey Scott doesn’t believe a word of it when his twin brother manages to conjure up a fiancée on the morning of their family trip to Spain. Not that he cares… He’s too busy looking after his brother’s puppy, dealing with his narcissist of a mother and making sure his sister stays out of trouble.

What he didn’t count on was Penny being quite so incredible. What’s a girl like her doing with a brother like his?

Will Penny finally fall in love with a man without booking a church and buying a dress? Can Pacey become the man Penny needs without the shadow of his mother’s disappointment looming over him? Or will the Spanish ocean breeze blow away their dreams?

Reader advisory: This book contains mention of depression and attempted suicide.

Excerpt

The day before

Penny

Penny, you’re a strong, capable woman. You will not falter at the sight of an exposed ab, a kissable lip or a murmured ‘I love you’. You’ve got this. You can do it.

I raise a trembling hand to knock, hesitating before going in for the kill.

To be entirely truthful, I don’t have ‘it’ at all. In fact, I’m about as far from having ‘it’ as a person can be, but Kelli’s eyes are burning a hole in my back as she stares me down from her car—willing me to do the right thing—and I don’t want to get my proverbial arse kicked if I fuck this up.

To my surprise, the front door opens. The decision is made for me. “Hey, Penny.”

“Hey.” Reece’s stunning older sister Chloe brushes past me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek and leaving the door wide open. Her manner is such that I’m pretty sure she has no idea why I’m here or what her brother has been up to. This doesn’t shock me. The man is sly. He’s not going to let the world—or his family—know that he fucked up another relationship.

“Reeeece, Penny’s here,” she yells over her shoulder as she leaves.

Would he have answered if he hadn’t been forced to? It’s been two weeks and the man has completely ignored my calls and been suspiciously absent every time I come by. The Art of Ghosting by Reece Sheffield. It wouldn’t sell well, the proof being that I’m standing on his doorstep right now listening to him come down the stairs.

A conversation is well overdue, and now he can’t avoid it. Good. At least it’ll be over with.

He saunters down the corridor. Reece’s at-home attire is a pair of gray tracksuit bottoms. He’s been wearing them for so long that the crotch has started to thin and the elastic in the waist has gone to shit. He never wears anything underneath them, so I—and possibly all his neighbors—am treated to more than just an impression of his family jewels.

He scratches the back of his neck then rubs it. Too much late-night gaming again. Not my problem anymore.

Then he slips his hand into his pocket and scratches his junk.

Don’t look at his penis. I allow my eyes to drop down, just for a second. I can see why Kelli felt like I needed back-up for this mission. I am confoundedly drawn to the enemy.

He has bags under his eyes and the imprint of his pillow on his cheek, but he’s still devastatingly handsome. Even his hair is flattened on one side, which should be wholly unattractive and yet, God… I want to run my fingers through it, pull at it, hold it while he…

Kelli’s voice seeps into my mind. “Don’t fall for him again. I’m warning you. I won’t be afraid to get out of this car and tell him exactly what I think of him. It won’t be pretty, Pen.”

“Hey,” he says, flashing me a subtle smile and leaning into the doorway. “You want to come in?”

Yes, please. Damn it. No. Be strong. Ignore the dimples. Move away from those come-to-bed eyes.

“Nah. I’ll just make this quick, shall I? It’s over. As if it could be anything else after what you’ve done. I’ll get someone to drop your stuff off, and if you could do the same, then we can close the chapter on this whole thing.”

“Pen…” He takes his hand out of his pocket and scratches his abs, revealing just a glimpse of the little hairline that runs up his stomach. I used to kiss that, on my way down. That might be the bit of him I’ll miss the most. “Don’t be like that.”

“Don’t be like that?” What the fuck? Tomorrow was supposed to have been our wedding day.

“We haven’t spoken in two weeks. We were getting married, buying a flat, growing old together. Remember that?”

“Yeah…” He contorts his face into the most unpleasant grimace, like I’ve just suggested that he clean the skid marks off the toilet. “No. I can’t do that anymore.”

He’s so casual, almost emotionless…as if he’s canceling a lunch date.

“I figured that when you ran away the other day, during sex, and haven’t spoken to me since.”

It had been terrible sex. Neither of us had been in the mood. We’d been arguing the finer details of our quickie registry office wedding, and all I’d wanted was the final say on the flowers. I may have asked him about petunias as he pounded away aimlessly. It wasn’t my finest moment, and if it’s any consolation, I do regret it, but still, I’m not sure it quite merited this.

“Yeah.” I’ve never noticed how monosyllabic he is until now. “Sorry.”

I cackle. “Sorry? Are you sorry for cheating, too?”

This one throws him. When he isn’t half-asleep in his manky old clothes, Reece is on everybody’s TV from nine a.m. until lunchtime. Suited and booted, he climbs into a company car every day—an air of complete confidence—and heads off to convince everybody that he is the perfect gent. Witty, handsome, caring… He has the whole country fooled into thinking he’s such a fucking catch. That was the man I’d fallen in love with, and that is the man who is about to emerge onto the doorstep at the realization that I am dumping him.

This isn’t me begging him to come back. This is me telling him he can fuck right off. From the look of the storm brewing in his eyes, he is not happy about it.

He narrows his eyes. “I didn’t cheat on you, Pen. I walked out on you two weeks ago and found myself someone who wasn’t so desperate to get married and have babies and all that shit—someone who pays attention when I’m fucking her.”

“We were engaged, Reece. Nobody forced you into proposing.”

“You haven’t talked about anything else since you met me. You keep bridal magazines on your coffee table. You decided where we were going to live, our kids’ names and you even chose a fucking puppy at the shelter.” I step back. His voice has a tinge of menace, and confrontation isn’t my thing. I wouldn’t have come here today, but Kelli made me.

“That’s what best friends are for,” she’d said as she’d dropped me off at the end of the road. “Now go dump that idiot.”

She has never liked the man. Now I’m starting to come across to her point of view. What had I been thinking? Perhaps, more specifically, which part of my body had I been thinking with? The man is a dream. Even a grungy T-shirt and skanky old trousers can’t hide that.

Reece unfurls his hand from his neck and places it on my reddened cheek, pulling me closer. “You’re angry with me. I get it. I am sorry.” He leans in closer. “You sure you don’t want to come in and let me make it up to you? One last time.”

He smells like sleep and sweat and the aftershave I bought him for Christmas—and familiarity. I close my eyes, exulting in that delicious scent.

How amazing it used to feel when he held me so tightly that I thought he’d never let go.

How loved I was.

He brushes his lips against mine and a car horn honks loudly, making us both jump. Reece looks over my shoulder, trying to see who’s out there.

“I can’t do this. It’s over.” I hold out my hand. “Here’s the ring. Thanks for the memories. Enjoy your incredible new girlfriend who doesn’t mind the fact that nine times out of ten you’re too tired for foreplay.” Reece being ‘not really into’ going down on me had been somewhat of a relief. The man was terrible at it. He thinks the clit is to be treated like a button on a PlayStation handset, flicked relentlessly. He doesn’t do subtle. He does quick and to the point. If lady-parts could curl up in horror, I’m pretty sure mine had just done that at the thought of being in this man’s hands again.

He pushes my palm away, the ring still in it. “You won’t find anyone like me.”

I fucking hope not.

“I have options. So many options,” I reply, with an air of self-confidence that’s fooling nobody. I don’t have a single option…not one. He leans his head to one side, contemplating the fact that somebody might be interested in me. My phone rings. ‘Cute Coffee Shop Guy’ is calling me, apparently. “Hello?”

Before I can stop him, Reece leans forward and puts the call on speaker. What the fuck?

“Hey, Penny, it’s Jake. We met at the coffee shop the other day. You gave me your number for a gig.”

“Hi, Jake.” I know that voice, but can’t quite place it. “What can I do for you?” Reece steps back into the door-well. I lift a hand, as if to wave goodbye, and back away a couple of feet.

“Look. I know you said you have a boyfriend, but, fuck it, I just wanted to say that if you’re ever free…”

I glance back up at Reece, shrug my shoulders and smile. “I’m free tonight.”

“You are?”

“Sure. Hold on a second. I’ll just finish what I’m doing, and we’ll work out the details.” I stroll back over to a shocked Reece, lean in and peck him on the cheek. “So. Many. Options.”

I lift the phone to my ear and chat away as I walk back down the street to Kelli’s car, not even bothering to take him off speaker. This is a glorious moment and I want everybody to enjoy it, Reece especially.

I also slide the very expensive diamond ring back onto my finger. Hell, I deserve it. I washed that man’s dirty underwear while he was sleeping with someone else. I should have married him then left his sorry arse.

“You killed it,” she cries, hugging me as I slide into the passenger seat. “I knew you could do it.”

I point at the phone. “Jake? Really? I thought Reece was going to twig.”

She winks at me. “What is the point of me having the most adorable cousins if I can’t use them to get back at that cheating dickhead of an ex-fiancé of yours?”

I grin. “True. Did you see his face? Oh my God. And I almost kissed him. Ugh. I’m so pathetic.”

“You are,” she replies, starting up the engine. “But I love you anyway. Now, how about we stock up on tequila and ice cream. In a couple of hours, you’re going to remember that tomorrow was supposed to be your wedding day and you’re going to be a mess.”

“I’m fine.” I’m on a high. Nothing can top the look on that man’s face and the way I’m feeling right now. Kelli purses her lips. She knows me far too well. I’ll be a sobbing wreck in a couple of hours and only margaritas can heal that type of pain.

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About the Author

Katherine E Hunt

Katy Hunter lives on a mountain in France with her husband, kids and two dogs.

When she’s not writing you can find her curled up in front of the fire, book in one hand and a glass of chardonnay in the other.

Follow Katy on Instagram and sign up to her Facebook reader’s group. You can also find her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter

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Spade’s Choice by L.A. Day

Book 1 in the Inclusion MC series

General Release Date: 12th July 2022

Word Count: 12,812
Book Length: SHORT STORY
Pages: 56

GENRES:

BISEXUAL
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MC/BIKERS

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Book Description

He turned his back on his brothers for the man he loved.

Spade is a bisexual biker struggling with his sexual identity when he meets Cyrus, his new neighbor. An instant attraction is formed and he wastes little time in getting to know Cy. Spade has never had a relationship he couldn’t easily walk away from but this time might be different. As his feelings deepen, he must choose between Cyrus and his club.

Cyrus is intimidated and intrigued by the big biker next door. Cyrus has never explored his sexual feelings for a man until he meets Spade. When Spade makes advances, he willingly surrenders to him. He wants to experience everything with Spade because he knows the dominant biker will soon tire of him.

Spade quickly realizes he must give up the club even if it means losing his best friend, Snake, because he can’t part from Cyrus. When Snake discovers his secret, they almost come to blows, but Cyrus helps to negotiate peace between the two friends.

Spade’s choice means giving up the biker lifestyle he loves but it could be the beginning of something even better.

Excerpt

The midday sun blasted Spade’s back as he cranked the nut on the rear axle of his motorcycle. He’d returned home from a long run over the weekend and noticed the sprocket teeth were worn. He would have preferred to have done this in the garage at the club but he was avoiding the drama. A couple of the members’ ol’ ladies were in a snit about a new club chick hitting on their men. So he was steering clear of the club until that shit got shut down. If it were his ol’ lady, he’d have laid some leather to her ass. Maybe that’s why I’m single. He chuckled to himself then cursed when the wrench slipped and he busted his knuckles.

A slamming door drew his attention and he stood to see a guy on the back porch of the adjacent house. He shared a double-wide driveway with the other home. He’d seen the car in the driveway late last night when he’d finally ridden in. At the time, he’d been too tired to give it a thought. The house had sat empty for a few months. Recently he’d heard it had sold to a single guy. He was glad there wouldn’t be children running around. He didn’t dislike kids, however he didn’t want to deal with parents complaining about the sound of his bike or the way he looked. The guy jogged down the steps into his backyard and out of view behind his privacy fence. From what Spade had seen, he was a couple years younger than his own thirty. Crouching down, he went back to tightening the nuts, making sure they were snug and even.

An hour later, his bike roared to life as he took it for a test drive. He had other things to get done today so he rode a few blocks, grabbed some beer and returned. He bent to examine his work. Finding everything in order, he patted his leather seat and stood to find his new neighbor standing on the drive. He blinked, startled by his unheard approach.

“Sup?” Spade gave a nod to the younger guy, who eyed him anxiously. The deer in the headlights look wasn’t a surprise. He’d been told he was intimidating as fuck. The motorcycle and cut alone caused trepidation but he stood six-foot-three with a substantial build and more ink showing than skin.

“Hello,” the man finally answered with a slight nod.

“Name’s Spade,” he said. He took a couple steps and stretched out his hand.

“Cyrus,” he replied. A smooth, soft hand gripped Spade’s firmly.

“Live alone?” Spade asked.

Cyrus glanced around nervously before answering, “Yeah.”

“Me too.” Spade couldn’t help smirking at the other man’s unease. “Beer is getting warm so I better head in.” Glancing over his shoulder as he headed for his door, Spade was rewarded with a glimpse of a nice ass in a tight pair of pants. Spade chuckled. Cyrus really would be nervous if he knew what he was thinking about that ass.

At the door, Spade cocked his head as something on the corner of Cyrus’ bumper caught his eye. He made a quick detour across the driveway to investigate. A gay pride rainbow sticker curled just around the edge. “Sweet.” Spade whistled as he headed back to the door. Soon, he would give Cyrus the ride of his life.

* * * *

Spade finished his third beer while watching a high school football game, which wasn’t holding his interest. Getting up to take a leak, he glanced out the window. Cyrus had yet to put up curtains and his house was ablaze with lights. Spade shook his head and wondered, was he afraid of the dark or what?

“Oh hello.” Cyrus had just appeared in his living room, stark naked except for the towel he held in front of his crotch. Spade tilted his head as he admired his neighbor’s fine ass. From here, the younger dude appeared to be all lean muscle. Cyrus bent forward to grab the remote and Dipper, as Spade affectionately called his dick, stirred behind the well-worn denim of his jeans. The television flipped between the sports news channels. To Spade’s delight, Cyrus flung the towel over his shoulder before heading back toward the bathroom. His dick wasn’t bad either, Spade thought. For a thin guy, Cyrus had some girth. Nothing like his behemoth Dipper, but it was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Fuck.” Spade shifted his arousal. He might have to enjoy some self-love, because he wasn’t gonna be able to sleep like this.

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About the Author

L.A. Day

L.A. Day is a multi-published author of erotic romances. Her heroes might be bikers, shifters, vampires, aliens, time-travelers, barbarians, billionaires, or CEO’s but they are always strong, assertive men! Her heroines might be tough or submissive but they are always sassy, funny, and sarcastic. In real life, Laura is a wife, mother, and dog lover. She loves to collect pottery and you can often find her at antique and resale shops. Her friends are often SHOCKED that their seemingly sweet friend writes dirty books.

Follow L.A. Day on Instagram and check out her website.

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Wild in the Country by Elizabeth Coldwell

Romance at Richadam Ranch by Bella Settarra

Her Harem Collection

It’s going to be a long, hot summer and it’s going to take more than one man to quench her thirst. Scorching days turn into burning hot nights, and there’s no chance of running out of entertainment.

General Release Date: 5th July 2022

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Wild in the Country
Romance at Richadam Ranch

Book Description

Wild in the Country

What should be a simple weekend away turns into the most wicked vacation of her life.

It should be a special vacation for two in the historic town of Rye—a chance for my deliciously dominant husband Adam and I to celebrate my thirtieth birthday and our wedding anniversary. Some alone time to wander the streets, eat in the nicest restaurants, play our favourite kinky games and maybe indulge my fantasies of having a whole harem of cute men to do with as I wish.

Then the booking company screws up and leaves two handsome Americans, Nathan and Kip, arguing the place is theirs for the weekend. None of us wants to back down, so the only solution? Sharing. Except it’s not just the house we’re going to share.

The more time I spend with these handsome, funny guys out in the beautiful Sussex countryside, the more I realize my fantasies of sex with an extra man—or two—are about to become the wildest of realities…

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Romance at Richadam Ranch

She loves to cook. They love to eat. But when she falls in love with them, is it a recipe for disaster?

Charlotte Priestley was working hard as a chef, and even harder at making her relationship work. That is, until she found her boyfriend, Raiph Mortimer, in a rather compromising position—doggy, apparently—with another member of staff. Leaving her job, home and cheating boyfriend in one fell swoop, she took a job as far away from them as she could get; Richadam Ranch, Colorado.

Richard Colton, Chad Decker, and Adam Laurier, the owners of the ranch, are desperate for their business to work, and for that it is crucial that they find a decent chef immediately. Charlotte seems perfect for the position—and several other positions they dream about—but will she want what they’re offering?

Charlotte is enamored by the kindness and concern shown by the three cowboys—not to mention their good looks! In fact, she couldn’t choose between them. Luckily, she doesn’t have to choose, as she discovers during a passionate night with all three of them, and a little too much wine. But can a polyamorous relationship really last?

And when Charlotte’s and the guys’ pasts catch up with them, will they keep their resolve to make it work, or will their hopes for the future fall as flat as a sunken soufflé?

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About the Authors

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

Bella Settarra

Deana Birch was named after her father’s first love, who just so happened not to be her mother. Born and raised in the Midwest, she made stops in Los Angeles and New York before settling in Europe, where she lives with her own blue-eyed Happily Ever After. Her days are spent teaching yoga, playing tennis, ruining her children’s French homework, cleaning up dog vomit, writing her next book or reading someone else’s.

You can sign up for Deana’s newsletter here and visit her website here. You can also find Deana at Books + Main here

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Alternative Medicine by AE Lister

Room for Elijah by Samantha Cayto

His Harem Collection

How’s a guy to choose? Why should he have to! This hero is spoilt for choice – it’s a summer romance, multiplied.

General Release Date: 5th July 2022

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Alternative Medicine
Room for Elijah

Book Description

Alternative Medicine

Prescription—a weekend at the cottage and a willing twink to go. What else can Scott, Jericho and Pascal ask for?

Scott Vernier is overburdened with his job as a professor and the logistics of maintaining two residences—his own and the home he shares with Jericho and Pascal. Is it time to consider making the final commitment and moving in?

Jericho suggests a getaway, and the trio borrow a friend’s cottage for the Canada Day summer weekend. Being in a strange setting doesn’t subdue Dr. Griffin’s ability to attend to Scott’s medical needs in the slightest. Then they meet Gerome, a young server at a local restaurant. Gerome seems intrigued by the three older men and agrees to return to the cottage to see where the evening takes them.

Let’s just say they don’t wind up playing board games.

Reader advisory: This story features partner sharing, medical kink and cum play.

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Room for Elijah

There is always room for the right person.

Elijah has been forced to leave his home because of his homophobic family. He has arrived in Boston with the hopes of starting a new life. His first stop is a drag club. Intrigued by the art form, he wants to take a peek and look for work.

After leaving the military, Dermott opened Queens to celebrate his love of drag and Irish pubs. Two of his best performers, Rienk and Nico, pack his club and share his bed. Dermott gives the boys needed stability and love, and the three of them have formed an unconventional family.

Dermott is everything Elijah has ever fantasized about, although he does not expect the man to give him anything more than a job. He is already involved with two other beautiful and worldly boys. There is no room for a sheltered virgin like him.

Dermott and his harem were not looking for a new romantic entanglement. When an obviously lost, yet sweet, boy enters the club and their lives, each of them let Elijah know that they would welcome another boy into Dermott’s enormous bed and heart.

Giving his virginity to Dermott would be a dream come true for Elijah, and the other boys are becoming amazing friends. But trusting all three of these men with his heart may be more than Elijah can handle.

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About the Authors

AE Lister

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published 10 books, one of which received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association – International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

“Sensual and visceral BDSM.” – Amazon.ca

Find out more about AE Lister at their website, and follow them on Instagram and Facebook. You can join their Facebook group and find out more at their BDSM blog.

Samantha Cayto

Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever.

She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don’t understand why they can’t read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.

Giveaway

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

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