Mar 19

New Release Blitz: Gifting a Dragon’s Heart by Mell Eight (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Gifting a Dragon’s Heart

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/19/2024

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 39600

Genre: Fantasy, royalty, hunters, dragons, soldiers, magic

Add to Goodreads

Description

When he learns his father is dying, Roan leaves the wilds to return to the home he ran away from ten years prior. Roan knows the inevitable family reunion will be difficult, but then he meets Lyss, his former beau, who is the reason he had to leave. Roan doesn’t know what to feel or how to react to this older version of Lyss, but before he can get his emotions in order, a letter comes from the untamed wilds region telling him the town he’s called home for the last ten years is under attack.

Traveling back to the wilds accompanied by Lyss ought to give Roan time to figure out his feelings. However, the army, wyverns, and dragons all make finding time to even speak with Lyss difficult. Besides, ten years is a long time. When the battle is over, Roan and Lyss have their own separate lives to return to, assuming they both survive the fight to come.

Excerpt

Gifting a Dragon’s Heart
Mell Eight © 2024
All Rights Reserved

The sharply peaked roofs of Outpost came into view around noon as Roan followed the path beaten through tall, waving grass by generations of sturdy feet. Outpost had an official name on the maps, of course, but the locals simply called it what it was: an outpost station literally two steps from the start of the untamed wilds.

Roann replied, shrugging. “I like to send her gifts when I can.”

“Expensive gift,” Marius murmured, distracted by the blue skin. “Oh!” he added abruptly. “You got a letter last month.”

He stepped away from the bar to a lockbox kept along the back wall. He used the key around his neck to unlock the box and retrieve the letter for Roan.

“I sent the standard reply back to the return address, saying you were out in the field and would respond as soon as you could.”

Roan ripped open the envelope and pulled out the single piece of paper inside while Marius went back to the skins.

“Any hearts?” Marius asked, moving on to the red skin.

“Mar,” Roan replied, his tone as heavy as his frown. “You know you can’t sell a dragon’s heart.”

“Hah. You are the only roamer that follows that old adage, you realize. Besides, these are wyverns. No one’s seen a real dragon going on at least fifty years.”

“Dragon hearts can only be given as gifts,” Roan finished the second half of the adage, completely uncaring that wyverns were only the smaller, considerably less dangerous cousin to dragons. He had the hearts for every skin in his bag, and a separate bag in his personal safe with the rest he had gathered over the last few years. At some point, he would hire a security crew to transport them home to his sister for him, and since he had the skin, maybe now was a good time to organize that.

“Whatever you say,” Marius replied, unrolling the orange skin. “You ever change your mind, the heart is worth double what you earn from these skins.”

“Just pay me for the skins and forget about the hearts,” Roan said, sighing. He and Marius had this same conversation every time Roan came back to Outpost to sell the skins he had harvested and re-provision for his next trip to the wilds. After a few days of rest and relaxation, sleeping in real beds, and using an actual shower, Roan would be more than ready to return to the peaceful solitude of the wilds.

Roan finally unfolded the letter and found only a few lines of his sister’s loopy, angled writing inside.

Roanan,

I don’t know when you’ll get this message, but I hope you hear the news from me first. Father is dying. I know you and he had your differences; however, he has requested to see you one last time. If you receive my letter before he’s gone, please consider coming home. Even if you’re too late to see him, I could use a show of your support by having you at my side for a time as we go through the mourning period and transition to my taking over.

Please, please come home. I promise I will not do anything to prevent you from leaving when you’re ready to go, but I need you right now.

All my love,

Shanan

“Damn.” Roan refolded the letter and tipped his head back, staring unseeing at the wooden beams of the ceiling. “Damn,” he repeated.

“Everything okay?” Marius asked.

Roan looked down, glad to be able to refocus on Marius rather than his swirling thoughts. While Roan had been reading, Marius had rolled the skins back up and had started counting out silver coins for payment. He had paused in his counting, one coin held in his hand just above the stack, and he had a concerned look on his face.

Roan shook his head. “My sister needs me to come home, so it looks like my next trip is heading inland. Once you’re done counting, could you bring me my box from the safe?”

“Inland? Damn is right. I’m sorry anything is dragging you there.”

He finished counting the coins and headed to the back of the bar, where a massive safe door took up a large section of the wall. Unlike the lockbox, this was a modern, high-tech safe. Roan and other roamers paid for the extra protection, though. Marius placed his hand on the biometric scanner, letting it read his fingerprints and take a DNA sample from his sweat. The door clicked a moment later and swung outward. Marius vanished inside, returning after a few seconds with a large metal box with Roan’s name written on a piece of paper taped to the top.

Roan took the box, scooped up the coins, the green skin, and his letter, and stuffed it all into his much lighter pack.

“Thanks, Mar. There a room at the inn?” he asked.

“There should be. You need anything else?”

“Just to figure out when the next train leaves,” Roan replied.

Purchase

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.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Mar 15

New Release Blitz: Fox Hounds by Lia Connor (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Fox Hounds

Author: Lia Connor

Publisher: Changeling Press

Cover Artist: Renee’ George

Release Date: March 15, 2024

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male/Male/Female

Length: 45 pages

Genre: Action Adventure, New Releases, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Romance, Romantic Comedy

Themes: 20th Century, Big Beautiful Women, Bisexual, Multisexual, & Pansexual, Multicultural & Interracial, Multiple Partners, Reverse Harem, Second Edition, Shapeshifters

Add to Goodreads

 

Synopsis

Foxy Lady…

Reyna’s a skilled thief and the lightest-fingered pickpocket around. Several professionals would love to have her on their side, if only to be able to keep an eye on her. What they don’t know is that Reyna’s nickname isn’t just fantasy — she’s a shapeshifting fox and as clever and wily as they come. No one can catch her if she doesn’t want to be caught, and so far no one’s come close to winning her over.

Not, that is, until the hounds pick up her trail. Jonas, Si and Boone, lovers as well as skilled tricksters, have the Fox’s scent and they intend to woo her, outsmart her and win her to their team. As hounds in name as well as in shapeshifting nature, they know they’re just as good at getting the job done as Reyna is. All they have to do is catch this thief and get her not only on their side, but in their shared bed.

And they won’t give up until they get the job done.

Excerpt

Fox Hounds
Second Edition
Lia Connor
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Lia Connor

Three dogs climbing from an alley to the third-floor balcony of a nightclub would, Jonas knew, have raised a few eyebrows. If anyone had been around to see what happened next, they’d probably have fainted.

Three dogs clustered together on the roof, nosing one another in approval. One morphic flash later — a sight that’d make any human’s eyes water and their head ache — and three men crouched above the club — and more importantly, beneath a window.

Jonas tested the surface of the glass. “Bulletproof and cutter-proof. Gotta hand it to the owners. They think they know their security.”

“Want to try the lock picks?” Si patted his pocket. He’d concealed his tools so well that unless someone stripped him bare they wouldn’t have known he had anything more dangerous on him than his charming smile.

“No.” Jonas studied the window. He rolled his sleeves up to mid-forearm. “I think this might just work better.” He lifted and the window rose smoothly as silk. The ripe scent of perfume, gin and sex from the club rolled out in powerful waves. “It’s like they bathe in it. Eau de Horny.”

Si wasn’t listening. “Wait, the window’s unlocked? No alarms, no sirens, no pepper gas booby traps? Someone knew we were coming.”

“I’d say it’s likely. I’d even say it was the Fox.”

Si swore softly and with great respect.

“Sounds like she’s throwing a party to welcome us, too. Listen to that racket, would you? No better place to hide than in a crowd,” Jonas said. “Nothing beats a classy lady except a crafty classy dame.”

“There’s got to be at least a hundred people in there,” Boone said in awe. He bumped shoulders with Si and head-butted Jonas in the arm. “Do you think they know what she is?”

“Doubtful. The Fox likes playing human.” Jonas scratched idly behind Boone’s ear. “Besides, doesn’t matter. She’s led us on a wild chase, but the end game is going to be one hundred percent worth it. Two forms and they both have their uses, boys. We found the Fox’s current den on all fours, and now we sweep her off her feet as men.”

“So you say. I don’t think it’s going to be that easy,” Si objected. “Fox is the best thief on the West Coast, acknowledged by all, so God only knows how many offers –”

“And threats,” Boone butted in soberly.

“– and threats,” Si agreed, “she must have turned down before us. I’d bet dozens have tried and failed to get her on their low-down teams.”

“Probably, but they’re not us.” Jonas lifted the window fully open. Sufficiently tall and wide enough to admit three full-grown conmen, even if one of them was Boone, who’d played fullback before his teammates became aware of his half-canine nature and drop-kicked him off the team. “Here’s where the hunt really gets fun. Trust me. Have I ever led you wrong?”

Si grumbled under his breath, then said, louder, “You know, someday you’re going to be wrong. I just hope I’m fast enough to stay ahead of the shock wave of shit when that day comes along.”

“You know how I know you love the biz?” Jonas ruminated. “The happier you get, the louder you complain. Right now, you’re almost ecstatic. You’d shrivel up and die without this to keep you feeling lively. That, and you think the sun rises and sets on me.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“I never stop. Life without risk isn’t life at all.” Jonas nuzzled the corner of Si’s mouth. “Don’t try to con a conman.”

Si rolled his eyes, but despite that he bit and licked at Jonas’s lips, teasing him around for a proper kiss, dirty, wet, tongues sliding together.

“Careful you two don’t get carried away and fall,” Boone rumbled, ever protective even when amused. “It’s a long way down and even shapeshifters go splat.”

“Yep, that’ll kill the mood.” Si nudged Boone’s chest. Lightly.

“Settle down, boys.” Jonas poked his head through the window to assess the room beyond. “Empty. I’m betting it’s for storage. Sounds like the party’s directly below, too.”

“A room full of L.A.’s brightest and most beautiful pretending to be bad boys and girls,” Si said. “I like it.”

“I like the chase.” Jonas breathed in, searching for a trace of the Fox’s unique, tantalizing scent. “Once we’re inside, you follow my every signal. This is a three-pronged attack and I need you both sharp if we want the Fox to take our bait.”

“You honestly think we have a shot at getting her on our team?” Boone asked dubiously.

Jonas turned, his balance perfect, to take Boone by the nape and kiss him quiet. “That was for luck, but if you ask me, I think we have as good a chance as any. Maybe better. We have something she wants. You lose all the battles you don’t even try to win.”

Boone grinned big and bright. “That’s good enough for me.”

“I knew I could count on you.” Jonas held out his fist for his hounds to bump knuckles on. “One for all, and all for one. Let’s catch ourselves a Fox.”

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Lia Connor lives in the South, but her job takes her almost everywhere but. Her laptop is her best friend. Lia loves stories about BBW’s, hot, hot, hot threesomes and wily shifters who get into (and out of) all kinds of trouble…

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Mar 12

New Release Blitz: Belega by Dianne Hartsock (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Belega

Series: The Karthagans, Book One

Author: Dianne Hartsock

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/12/2024

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 99600

Genre: Fantasy, fantasy, magic, sorcerers, mage, psychic powers

Add to Goodreads

Description

The Karthagans have regained their ancient powers of manipulating nature, but at the price of madness. In their lust for control, they’ve destroyed their island and most of their race. They come now to Belega, where one of them, Camron, seeks domination over the known world. The Mage has come from the northern continent of Sennia to bring peace, but finding his strength no match for the coming struggle, he passes his abilities on to Natan, who only desires a simple life.

Now only Natan has the ability to stop Camron, but the personal cost is more than he imagines. It is only with the combined strength of his friends, his Karthagan lover, Kavi, and his deep desire to bring lasting peace to the earth, that he finds the courage to overcome Camron and restore balance to the world.

Excerpt

Belega
Dianne Hartsock © 2024
All Rights Reserved

“I have you.”

Natan rose into a low crouch from the scrub brush, careful not to scrape his cloak against the foliage, and searched his memory for the trick Kavi had taught him. Oh, yes. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing all worries. His expectations. Letting go. The clip of the horse’s hooves echoed in his mind, and he concentrated on that, the smell of the horse, the feel of its hide, the oats on its breath. He became aware of a vague fear in the animal’s mind.

But the tenuous connection broke without time to try again as the soldier leading the roan brought him to a stop, his gaze sweeping the path ahead, alert. Gathering his scattered wits as best he could, Natan lunged to his feet and dove for the soldier’s legs. They went down hard, Natan gasping at the whoosh of air against his cheek as the horse reared, hooves barely missing him. Knowing he was no match for the soldier physically, he scrambled to jab a knee into the man’s back, then drew his thin knife and pressed it against the pulse at his throat, feeling him stiffen.

“Hold very still,” he warned. The soldier didn’t move as the keen blade inadvertently nicked his skin. Recalling Kavi’s imprisonment in an Amara prison, Natan gritted his teeth and swung his arm back, then brought the hilt of the knife down sharply on his vulnerable skull. With a grunt, the man went limp. Natan climbed to his feet, cursing under his breath as the horse disappeared up the trail. He rolled the man over so his face wouldn’t be in the dirt, making sure he could breathe without difficulty.

Frowning at the thick trees crowding them, he left his captive a moment to scout the vicinity, at last coming upon a small clearing off the trail. It took some effort to drag the unconscious soldier to the spot, and a relief to roll the heavy body down the last few feet. He retrieved leather strips from his pack, bound the man’s hands and feet to a small sapling, then examined the soldier’s head once again. Although the purplish welt had swollen, the bleeding had stopped.

Natan watched the soldier a moment and shook his head in disgust when he didn’t waken. “Hit him too hard,” he muttered, angry with himself. He built a small fire as the air grew chilly and sat with his back to a tree while he waited for the soldier to regain consciousness. Darkness descended on the forest, and he chewed his lips in growing anxiety. His dear friend, Captain Bryon of Amara, along with Lieutenant Jaden, had gone to Nagal to petition the Mage to help them recover Kavi. Had they reached the city yet? If so, Natan would need to be at the Lake of Glass to meet with them in a few short days. A lifetime, as long as Kavi remained captive.

He sharpened his knife on a whetstone to pass the time while the soldier remained unconscious. As the stars came out, an ache crept into his chest as he thought of Kavi and how they used to lie awake, watching for falling stars. Natan would make them tea in a little pot over the fire; then they’d wrap in warm blankets and talk quietly while the sky wheeled overhead. Sometimes they made love, Kavi’s warm sleek body pliant as Natan searched out new ways to draw those sweet breathy moans from his lips.

And then it had all ended. Natan closed his eyes at the jab of pain in his heart. The Nagal soldiers had come to their camp and dragged Kavi away, laughing when Natan struggled, and methodically beat him senseless. That had been two weeks ago, and every attempt he’d made to find his lover had failed. The last time he’d been in Amara he’d been threatened with imprisonment himself.

He would do Kavi no good behind iron bars, he reminded himself.

Natan opened his eyes to find the captive staring at him from where he’d slumped against the tree. Natan went over and helped him to a sitting position.

“What’s your name?” he asked with ice in his voice. The man continued to stare at him, insolent.

Natan looked him over carefully. “Let me guess. You’re dressed as a Nagal soldier, though you’re obviously not one. Maybe a deserter? Maybe a Barkuit spy?” He watched the soldier’s face as he named the rival country, then leaned closer to whisper, “What of Kavi?”

“That trash?” the man asked in surprise, then yelped when Natan lunged at him, knife slipping into his hand.

“Say that again and I’ll slit your throat. Now, what is your name?”

“Captain Syros Reed.”

Natan sat back on his heels, fury hot in his chest. “Speak.”

“I could tell you where they mean to bury him,” Syros drawled, holding Natan’s gaze, and smiled slightly at his sharply indrawn breath. “That is, once Landlan has drawn the secret to the Karthagans’ power over nature out of him. The power the Barkuit army would kill to use in our coming conflict. Kavi was alive the last time I saw him, but I heard they mean to bury him soon. If you hurry, he may still be breathing. I don’t know.”

“And you didn’t help him?” With a sudden enraged cry Natan drove his knife into the sapling inches from Syros’s face. “He’d better be alive, for your sake.”

He left his water skin for Syros, should the man succeed in freeing himself, then gave the soldier no more thought as he snatched up his pack and settled into the long run ahead, determined to be at the Lake of Glass on time.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Dianne is the author of paranormal/suspense, fantasy adventure, m/m romance, the occasional thriller, and anything else that comes to mind. She lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. She says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee warming her hands, which kindles her imagination.

Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.

Website | Facebook | Instagram | Pinterest

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Mar 08

New Release Blitz: Doctor, Doctor by Will Okati (Excerpt & Giveaway)

 

Title:  Doctor, Doctor

Series: Doctor, Doctor

Author: Will Okati

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: March 8, 2024

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 136 pages

Genre: 2nd Chance Romance, Gay, Medical Romance, Multiple Partners, New Adult

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Love isn’t easy and it’s rarely simple. More often than not it takes practice. Lots of practice.

It Takes Practice (Doctor, Doctor 1)

Dr. Nathan Rey has had a case of broken heart syndrome since his wild, bad-boy lover disappeared. He still can’t forget Fitz, and no one he’s met since could begin to compare. Then Nathan’s nurse elopes overnight and the temp agency sends him, certified and licensed, Fitz himself, with far more than work on his mind. Fitz means to convince Nathan seven years isn’t too long to wait for a second chance at the love of a lifetime.

It Takes Three (Doctor, Doctor 2)

Three med students. Geoff’s wound tight as a cheap watch. Ross is, too, but unless it’s got to do with math or science he’s oblivious. Aurélien’s uber-zen, uber-practical. With exams coming up fast, they’re all in desperate need of some R & R. What better way than getting a little action? Together. Multiple times, and in multiple ways. Once they get started these guys “work” well together. Maybe a little too much so. Aren’t things like this supposed to be hard? In this case, the answer to all their questions is three

Excerpt

Over Their Heads (The Deep End 2)
Alex Winters
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Alex Winters

Nash

“Nice, uh… place?”

Nash Archer heard his own voice, sounding rich and thick and very, very far away. It was as strange as everything else about the curious predicament he’d suddenly found himself in. The sexy stranger in the clingy Lost Lake University T-shirt rolled his soft hazel eyes. “Is that all you have to say?”

Nash arched an eyebrow, desperately struggling to appear cool, calm and collected when, after all, his heart was racing a million miles per minute. “No,” he replied, still in that far away voice. “I’m sure I’ll have more later but… for now? I’ve never been in the Academic Dorm before.”

“Me either, until I moved in.” The stranger agreed, wriggling atop the narrow ledge against the big picture window overlooking the campus ten stories below, not to mention the glistening shimmer off Lost Lake. “We’re both freshmen, remember?”

Nash stood cautiously, his hand still resting on the small countertop just inside the tidy dorm room. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Why don’t you come a little closer?” Smart Guy asked, cool and confident-like, nodding at where Nash clung to the counter as if to a life raft. It sounded less like a come on and more like something he’d said to every visitor he’d invited in. A cheesy line. Nash didn’t like that. He wanted to feel special.

Unique. This might have been old hat for his sexy host, but it was all new to Nash and he supposed he was still hoping for a little pomp and circumstance.

“I will,” Nash promised, heart still thudding and palms still clammy, just like they’d been the whole walk across campus. “I’m trying to take this slow, though, you know?”

Smart Guy — they hadn’t exchanged names back in the campus library, just furtive glances and soft, lingering smiles among the towering stacks that hid them from prying eyes — gave a playful snort.

“Virgin, huh?”

“How’d you guess?”

Nash wasn’t shy about it. Not exactly. He was here, after all, in this sexy stranger’s dorm room in the middle of the day, staring at his hard body outlined in the flattering sunlight streaming in through the window at his back. He wouldn’t be able to hide his boy-on-boy virginity for much longer anyway.

Smart Guy shrugged, the slight movement sending a glint off his thick glasses, so at odds with his firm, buff body. “Virgins always want to take their time.”

Archer finally chuckled, an angsty combo of genuine humor and pent-up nerves. “Oh, you’re an expert on such matters, huh?”

Smart Guy smiled. Thick lips. Plucky little nose holding his glasses up beneath a spray of soft blond curls that looked like fresh hay in the afternoon sun streaming in behind him. “Not an expert, no, but… enough to know you’re going to stay a virgin if you don’t come any closer eventually.”

Nash glanced at the glaringly obvious hard-on beneath the hem of Smart Guy’s faded maroon T-shirt, so stiff and erect it was teasing the waistband of his shorts away from an impossibly flat belly. “Not until you put that thing away,” he teased, even as Nash inched gently closer across the vinyl flooring beneath his feet.

Smart Guy glanced down as if not having noticed the sudden draft on the front of his shorts. He glanced back up, fixing Nash with a penetrating gaze, the same one that had so enraptured him back in the library. “Why would I do that?” he challenged in a voice that was as confident as Nash’s was timid. “I mean, isn’t that what you came here for?”

Nash couldn’t argue with that logic. He had come here for that very thing. Had come to college, in fact, for that very thing. Dick. The one thing that had eluded him back in high school. The one thing he’d craved for as long as he could remember. He nodded, unafraid now that the door had been shut behind him. After all, he’d come here for someone like Smart Guy, who was so lean and buff, beckoning Nash with the outline of his hard, stiff dick as he lounged atop the window ledge like some sweet confection, just out of reach.

Nash nodded, but stopped just shy of contact. “It is pretty, your dick.” The words shocked him, even as they thrilled him. He’d never spoken like this before. Never done anything like this before. Met some random hot guy in the library? Followed him home to his dorm? Praised another guy’s cock without glancing around the room for stray witnesses?

Nash was unmoored, floating through unfamiliar territory, feeling things out as he went along. It was as frightening as it was thrilling, and he never wanted it to end.

Smart Guy’s eyes widened, and not ironically. He seemed genuinely surprised. “How do you know? You won’t even look at it.”

Nash shrugged almost casually, as if perhaps they were studying a movie poster in front of the local theater and not, in fact, some random guy’s cock. “I can just tell. It’ll be just like the rest of you. Hard. Smooth. Pretty.”

Smart Guy was blushing. A first. Nash smiled, to have made another boy blush. Was that a first, too? he wondered, reaching out a trembling hand to slide a lock of feathery blond hair behind Smart Guy’s blushing ear.

Smart Guy sat perfectly still, letting out a soft, almost helpless sigh. It sounded so alluring, so deep and guttural and desperate, Nash wanted to actually feel it. He leaned in for a kiss, surprising Smart Guy yet again. He felt the flinch, the stiffening and then, suddenly, the softening as his sexy host warmed to their lips’ tender embrace.

Nash leaned back before things could get too heavy, watching as Smart Guy smiled, licking his lips as if to prove to himself — to both of them — that it had just happened. The kiss. Their first. His, certainly. His first ever.

“Nice,” Smart Guy marveled, less full of shit than he’d been all afternoon. He sounded genuinely surprised. So surprised he had to go and repeat himself, as if to make sure. “That was really… nice.”

“Right?” Nash murmured, swallowing hard and nodding at the same time. “Nice,” he breathed, leaning in for another kiss and closing the distance between them at the same time. He leaned gently back once more, smiling with full, wet lips. “And slow.”

“Okay, okay.” Smart Guy nodded, hands still gripping the window ledge at his side. “I can see the upside of this.”

Nash struggled to control his heart rate, smiling. “Funny, all I see is upside.”

Smart Guy glanced gently sideways, peering out the window behind him at the small but tidy campus below. “Want me to close these, or…” His casual tone made it clear the question was purely rhetorical. Nash played along anyway, enjoying the verbal foreplay as he kept his cocky lover-to-be on his no doubt sexy toes.

“That depends,” Nash sighed, tugging playfully at the hem of his lover’s T-shirt. “Can anyone see us?”

“I mean, we’re ten floors up. Nothing around but mountains and trees and this pretty boy undressing me with his big, brown eyes.”

Nash paused, the fabric halfway up Smart Guy’s smooth, toned abs. He’d been called a lot of things back home — nerd, dweeb, spazz and much, much worse — but never… pretty. Never, in a million years, pretty. “I’m here, you don’t… don’t have to butter me up anymore.” Try as he might to hide it, Nash’s tremulous voice reflected the years of rejection, insecurity, and unrequited attraction he’d never dared give voice to before.

Let alone act upon.

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of the quiet ones to watch out for, but life — like storytelling — is always a work in progress.

Facebook | Goodreads | Instagram

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Mar 05

New Release Blitz: The Safe Zone by Amy Marsden (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  The Safe Zone

Series: The Survivors #2

Author: Amy Marsden

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/05/2024

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 91500

Genre: Horror, Lit/genre, horror, action, post-apocalyptic, interracial, bisexual, gay, paramedic, PTSD, soldiers, photographer, Paris, found family

Add to Goodreads

Description

When Jennifer and her group of survivors arrived at the castle, she thought they were safe at last. With strong walls and strong soldiers surrounding them, the threat of infected became negligible, and she could finally relax for the first time in what felt like forever. But the need for a cure outweighed Jennifer’s personal comfort, and the castle didn’t have the facilities needed to synthesize a vaccine from her blood.

She should have known safety wouldn’t last.

Back out in the world plagued by infected, Jennifer and her group head to Paris, where they could begin to find a cure for the virus that decimated humanity. But things don’t go according to plan, and they are left scrambling to get away with their lives.

Determined to find a safe place to hunker down and ride out the worst of the apocalypse, Jennifer and her broken but hopeful group return to the UK. Once there, they soon find that the infected aren’t the only threat.

A story about found family and overcoming the odds, The Safe Zone is the thrilling conclusion to the Survivors duology.

Excerpt

The Safe Zone
Amy Marsden © 2024
All Rights Reserved

12th January

When the world ended, Heather was fishing.

She didn’t know anything was amiss for hours as she sat by the tranquil water, her mind blissfully empty of thoughts. Fishing allowed her to destress; she liked to imagine the river carrying her worries away as she stretched her legs out. Her serene morning came to an abrupt end as the first bodies drifted by, and she jumped to her feet, adrenaline pooling in her stomach.

Her phone, which had been switched off in her bag, showed six missed calls from her wife and three each from her brother and nephew. Ringing back proved fruitless. She packed her equipment away as quickly as she could, her shaking hands belying her efficient movements. Panic stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth, and dread made breathing difficult. She raced back to her car—

To find it wasn’t where she’d left it.

Heather couldn’t hold back the terror any longer. Shouts and screams crowded the air all around her. What’s going on? Her town was usually a quiet place. She made her way onto the street, resolving to run home if needed, and stopped dead in her tracks.

Madness greeted her wide eyes.

Everywhere she looked, chaos reigned. People fought each other in the middle of the street, running in all directions, damaging cars and buildings. Even as she watched, a man lunged for another, punched him in the stomach, and bit into his arm as he doubled over in pain.

The paramedic in Heather froze, and she’d seen a lot in her twenty-year career. A tyre blew out on a car, causing it to flip, and all three occupants had walked away without a scratch. A five-car pile-up where no one had walked away. She’d held a thirteen-year-old boy in her arms as he bled out from a knife wound. She had lost count of the number of babies she’d delivered. She’d seen the best humanity had to offer and the worst, and the scene unfolding in front of her was up there with the worst.

The panic flooding her veins was thankfully tempered by her training, and her body got to work before her mind had a chance to catch up. The man who had attacked the other had left him slumped on the ground, so Heather dashed over to him. She dumped her fishing equipment at her side.

“Hi, there,” she said as she checked around him for danger. “I’m Heather, and I’m a paramedic. Can you tell me where you’re hurting?”

The man’s glassy eyes blinked as he struggled to focus on her. “My arm,” he croaked.

Heather identified the bite wound immediately. It looked nasty already. She reached into her bags for her first aid kit—she never went anywhere without one—and pulled out some gloves and alcohol wipes as well as gauze for bandaging it. She cleaned the wound as quickly as she could, but she never got the chance to wrap it.

A heavyset woman tackled her from behind, and the two of them went sprawling over the injured man. Heather banged her head against the concrete, her vision flashing white as she struggled to right herself. Nausea hit her stomach, but she didn’t vomit, thankfully. Damnit!

The woman wasn’t there when Heather pushed herself into a seated position. She didn’t know where she’d gone, and frankly, she didn’t care. Pushing aside her head injury—she could feel blood seeping from a cut, but it wasn’t bad—she looked around for the injured man. He was nowhere to be seen either.

Cursing again, she regained her footing only to have to jump out of the way of two men grappling with each other. What on Earth is happening? She ran back to her bags, pulled her phone out, and rang her wife again. Still nothing. With a frustrated growl, Heather shoved the phone into her pocket and straightened, determined to run home.

She didn’t get far.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

As a child Amy loved reading and writing, so naturally she graduated with a degree in biomedical science and has worked in a microbiology laboratory ever since. Her passion is writing however, and she started her first novel while still at university. When she is not writing about surviving apocalypses, exploring space, and conquering magic—all featuring LGBTQ characters—she can be found reading or playing games about those very things. She lives by the sea with her wife and fifteen-year-old cat who still runs around like a kitten.

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Feb 28

Book Blitz: Over Their Heads by Alex Winters (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Over Their Heads

Series: The Deep End #2

Author: Alex Winters

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: March 1, 2024

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male/Female (Male/Male interaction)

Length: 103 pages

Genre: Romance, New Adult, Contemporary Women’s Fiction, Multicultural & Interracial

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Nash Archer may be a virgin, but as a college freshman, away from home and unsupervised for the first time, he doesn’t plan to be for long. Maybe that’s why he falls for the handsome, cocky stranger cruising him in the campus library and follows him back to the academic dorms for his first boy-on-boy action! But when he discovers that he’s just another notch on a very big belt for his sexy new lover Ridge, Nash huffs off before they can exchange numbers. He figures he’s blown his first chance at a relationship with a real live guy.

Ridge Madison feels bad about dismissing the cute freshman from the campus library, but what’s Nash to expect? That’s what cruising is, after all — fast, hot, and no strings attached. So when Nash storms off, why does Ridge move heaven and earth to find Nash to make up for things? And what will he do when he finds out Nash has already met someone else? Someone who Ridge also wants?

Tanner Sinclair can’t believe it when she finds herself stuck in the middle of the two hottest guys on campus. Ridge is her algebra tutor, a sexy stud who knows it. When he rudely dismisses his latest conquest as she arrives for her tutoring, Tanner leaves abruptly and tracks Nash down in the campus cafeteria. The two hit it off and wind up sharing a night of passion the likes of which neither of them has ever experienced before.

As three very different lives collide, passions ignite while the lovers give the term “college experience” new meaning. Will they find themselves in over their heads?

Excerpt

Over Their Heads (The Deep End 2)
Alex Winters
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Alex Winters

Nash

“Nice, uh… place?”

Nash Archer heard his own voice, sounding rich and thick and very, very far away. It was as strange as everything else about the curious predicament he’d suddenly found himself in. The sexy stranger in the clingy Lost Lake University T-shirt rolled his soft hazel eyes. “Is that all you have to say?”

Nash arched an eyebrow, desperately struggling to appear cool, calm and collected when, after all, his heart was racing a million miles per minute. “No,” he replied, still in that far away voice. “I’m sure I’ll have more later but… for now? I’ve never been in the Academic Dorm before.”

“Me either, until I moved in.” The stranger agreed, wriggling atop the narrow ledge against the big picture window overlooking the campus ten stories below, not to mention the glistening shimmer off Lost Lake. “We’re both freshmen, remember?”

Nash stood cautiously, his hand still resting on the small countertop just inside the tidy dorm room. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Why don’t you come a little closer?” Smart Guy asked, cool and confident-like, nodding at where Nash clung to the counter as if to a life raft. It sounded less like a come on and more like something he’d said to every visitor he’d invited in. A cheesy line. Nash didn’t like that. He wanted to feel special.

Unique. This might have been old hat for his sexy host, but it was all new to Nash and he supposed he was still hoping for a little pomp and circumstance.

“I will,” Nash promised, heart still thudding and palms still clammy, just like they’d been the whole walk across campus. “I’m trying to take this slow, though, you know?”

Smart Guy — they hadn’t exchanged names back in the campus library, just furtive glances and soft, lingering smiles among the towering stacks that hid them from prying eyes — gave a playful snort.

“Virgin, huh?”

“How’d you guess?”

Nash wasn’t shy about it. Not exactly. He was here, after all, in this sexy stranger’s dorm room in the middle of the day, staring at his hard body outlined in the flattering sunlight streaming in through the window at his back. He wouldn’t be able to hide his boy-on-boy virginity for much longer anyway.

Smart Guy shrugged, the slight movement sending a glint off his thick glasses, so at odds with his firm, buff body. “Virgins always want to take their time.”

Archer finally chuckled, an angsty combo of genuine humor and pent-up nerves. “Oh, you’re an expert on such matters, huh?”

Smart Guy smiled. Thick lips. Plucky little nose holding his glasses up beneath a spray of soft blond curls that looked like fresh hay in the afternoon sun streaming in behind him. “Not an expert, no, but… enough to know you’re going to stay a virgin if you don’t come any closer eventually.”

Nash glanced at the glaringly obvious hard-on beneath the hem of Smart Guy’s faded maroon T-shirt, so stiff and erect it was teasing the waistband of his shorts away from an impossibly flat belly. “Not until you put that thing away,” he teased, even as Nash inched gently closer across the vinyl flooring beneath his feet.

Smart Guy glanced down as if not having noticed the sudden draft on the front of his shorts. He glanced back up, fixing Nash with a penetrating gaze, the same one that had so enraptured him back in the library. “Why would I do that?” he challenged in a voice that was as confident as Nash’s was timid. “I mean, isn’t that what you came here for?”

Nash couldn’t argue with that logic. He had come here for that very thing. Had come to college, in fact, for that very thing. Dick. The one thing that had eluded him back in high school. The one thing he’d craved for as long as he could remember. He nodded, unafraid now that the door had been shut behind him. After all, he’d come here for someone like Smart Guy, who was so lean and buff, beckoning Nash with the outline of his hard, stiff dick as he lounged atop the window ledge like some sweet confection, just out of reach.

Nash nodded, but stopped just shy of contact. “It is pretty, your dick.” The words shocked him, even as they thrilled him. He’d never spoken like this before. Never done anything like this before. Met some random hot guy in the library? Followed him home to his dorm? Praised another guy’s cock without glancing around the room for stray witnesses?

Nash was unmoored, floating through unfamiliar territory, feeling things out as he went along. It was as frightening as it was thrilling, and he never wanted it to end.

Smart Guy’s eyes widened, and not ironically. He seemed genuinely surprised. “How do you know? You won’t even look at it.”

Nash shrugged almost casually, as if perhaps they were studying a movie poster in front of the local theater and not, in fact, some random guy’s cock. “I can just tell. It’ll be just like the rest of you. Hard. Smooth. Pretty.”

Smart Guy was blushing. A first. Nash smiled, to have made another boy blush. Was that a first, too? he wondered, reaching out a trembling hand to slide a lock of feathery blond hair behind Smart Guy’s blushing ear.

Smart Guy sat perfectly still, letting out a soft, almost helpless sigh. It sounded so alluring, so deep and guttural and desperate, Nash wanted to actually feel it. He leaned in for a kiss, surprising Smart Guy yet again. He felt the flinch, the stiffening and then, suddenly, the softening as his sexy host warmed to their lips’ tender embrace.

Nash leaned back before things could get too heavy, watching as Smart Guy smiled, licking his lips as if to prove to himself — to both of them — that it had just happened. The kiss. Their first. His, certainly. His first ever.

“Nice,” Smart Guy marveled, less full of shit than he’d been all afternoon. He sounded genuinely surprised. So surprised he had to go and repeat himself, as if to make sure. “That was really… nice.”

“Right?” Nash murmured, swallowing hard and nodding at the same time. “Nice,” he breathed, leaning in for another kiss and closing the distance between them at the same time. He leaned gently back once more, smiling with full, wet lips. “And slow.”

“Okay, okay.” Smart Guy nodded, hands still gripping the window ledge at his side. “I can see the upside of this.”

Nash struggled to control his heart rate, smiling. “Funny, all I see is upside.”

Smart Guy glanced gently sideways, peering out the window behind him at the small but tidy campus below. “Want me to close these, or…” His casual tone made it clear the question was purely rhetorical. Nash played along anyway, enjoying the verbal foreplay as he kept his cocky lover-to-be on his no doubt sexy toes.

“That depends,” Nash sighed, tugging playfully at the hem of his lover’s T-shirt. “Can anyone see us?”

“I mean, we’re ten floors up. Nothing around but mountains and trees and this pretty boy undressing me with his big, brown eyes.”

Nash paused, the fabric halfway up Smart Guy’s smooth, toned abs. He’d been called a lot of things back home — nerd, dweeb, spazz and much, much worse — but never… pretty. Never, in a million years, pretty. “I’m here, you don’t… don’t have to butter me up anymore.” Try as he might to hide it, Nash’s tremulous voice reflected the years of rejection, insecurity, and unrequited attraction he’d never dared give voice to before.

Let alone act upon.

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

Alex Winters is the pseudonym of a busy restaurant manager whose curious young staff would love nothing more than to follow him around the dining room reading his steamiest, most romantic passages aloud! When not writing romantic holiday stories of various heat levels, he enjoys long walks with his wife, scary movies and smooth jazz. Visit him online to see what stories are brewing up next!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Feb 28

New Release Blitz: Prove It by Stephanie Hoyt (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title: Prove It

Series: Do or Die #1

Author: Stephanie Hoyt

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/27/2024

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 87100

Genre: Contemporary, Contemporary, romance, family-drama, new adult, gay, bisexual, sports, hockey team, in the closet, slow burn, rivals to lovers

Add to Goodreads

Description

Despite being unanimously projected to go first overall in the upcoming NHL Draft, Noah Anderson wants nothing more than to get the Draft over with so he can escape his dad’s unrelenting criticism and establish himself outside the rivalry he’s never tried to fuel.

Alex Valencia can handle getting picked second after a guy touted as the next Gretzky—but he can’t wrap his head around the fact that Noah is the one friend he can’t make.

When the draft lottery all but guarantees they’ll play for rival teams, Alex accidentally walks them right into a loser-buys dinner competition, ensuring their relationship remains a point of interest long after the season begins.

Opposites in so many ways, neither Alex nor Noah expect a relationship built on the begrudging acceptance of a challenge made on live television to become so deeply important to them. But as the line between chirping and flirting blurs, they both must decide how much they’re willing to sacrifice to play in the NHL.

Excerpt

Prove It
Stephanie Hoyt © 2024
All Rights Reserved

There’s a noise to Noah’s left. He expects to see his dad, annoyed and ready to tell Noah every way he should’ve done better, how he’s never going to make it in the NHL if he keeps hiding from all his problems instead of facing them head on. He’s gearing up for another blow to this lackluster eighteenth birthday when he glances over at Alex Valencia walking down the row toward him. For a fleeting second, Noah’s relieved he doesn’t have to face his father yet. Then Alex takes the seat next to him and the image of hats flying to the ice after Alex scored the game winner for the United States flashes through his mind and irritation floods through him.

“Come to gloat about your buzzer beater?”

“Does that sound like something I’d do, Anderson?”

Noah drags his attention away from the Zamboni smoothing over the ice to find Alex smiling at him. Which isn’t unexpected—Alex has the opposite of a resting bitch face—but this smile is different from any Noah’s ever received. This one doesn’t match the earnest incandescence Noah has never understood, but now expects from Alex.

Noah’s shocked by how much he hates it. Even more so when he admits, “No, I suppose not.”

He wouldn’t say he’s an expert on Alex’s smiles—they barely know each other—but he’s seen enough to recognize the transformation. A second ago, it was subdued, a little tight, but now he’s grinning, loose and broad enough to dimple his cheeks. This one’s real and Noah has an inexplicable, yet familiar, desire to press his thumb to Alex’s tan skin and measure the depth of his left dimple—always a little more pronounced than the right. Noah’s stomach twists and his heartbeat ratchets up—he can’t afford to still have these thoughts.

Hockey is already a parasitic environment, but being attracted to the one guy he can’t escape is another level of hell entirely. No one, from his dad to the reporters covering their international matchups, can shut up about how Alex would be the clear first overall if Noah wasn’t in his draft class and if anyone could upset the predictions, Alex’s strength and size might give him the edge to do it.

Which…fine. Whatever. Noah can’t fix his height, but he can get stronger and if he has to measure himself against Alex, who truly is phenomenal, to know he’s trying hard enough, then so be it. And maybe, if Alex weren’t gorgeous—with his perfect smile, perfect cheekbones, perfect jaw, perfectly silky-smooth hair—Noah wouldn’t hate it so much. But Alex is stunning, and every time someone mentions his name, everything Noah wants but can never have flashes before his eyes.

Which, for the record, isn’t Alex.

Noah might not know Alex, but after years of crossing paths, he’s pretty confident he’s too much for all of Noah’s anxieties to handle in large doses. Alex is loud and vibrant and always moving. His personality draws people in and keeps them, and he seems to thrive off it. Alex is everything Noah isn’t and nothing he wants to be around.

Noah wants the freedom to fall in love, to live without the pressure to blend in—constantly worried someone can tell he isn’t straight. Noah doesn’t want Alex, but Noah looks at him and his chest aches for what could be if he liked girls, if he didn’t care what people thought of him, if hockey wasn’t such a toxic environment. He looks at Alex and he wants.

Not for the first time, Noah hopes they get drafted to different conferences. He’s not naïve. He knows their first matchup in the NHL will be a big deal regardless of where it happens, but only playing twice a year should mitigate the fuss. If Noah’s lucky, their so-called rivalry will fade into the nonexistent thing Noah wishes it already was.

“Why’re you here then?” Noah asks.

“Wanted to say happy birthday.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Stephanie here! I write romance novels with a magical twist. I live at the intersection of Crying Time™ and Unfettered Enthusiasm™ where I tell stories that blend the melancholy of self-discovery and self-acceptance with the delights of friendship and falling in love. When I write, I’m a plotter with plot-commitment issues who lives and dies by chaotic bisexuals and happily-ever-afters.

Twitter | Pinterest

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Feb 20

New Release Blitz: The Star We Sail By by Glenn Quiglay (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  The Star We Sail By

Series: Knights of Blackrabbit #2

Author: Glenn Quiglay

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/20/2024

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 77300

Genre: Historical, Cornish Coast, clockpunk, spec fiction, panic disorder, bears, ex-sailors, playhouse, theft, family issues, law enforcement, petty theft, historical, non-explicit, redemption, revenge, tattoos, daddybear

Add to Goodreads

Description

When young sailor Felix Diamond receives a letter from his estranged uncle begging for help, he returns home to Blackrabbit Island for the first time in ten years. There he discovers his uncle missing and his aunt positioning herself as the new head of the notorious Diamond family. With nowhere else to turn, Felix must enlist the help of former crime lord and current Watch Commander, Vince Knight—a man he trusts less than anyone alive. He’ll also have to contend with his opium-addicted cousin and a handsome apprentice horologist with secrets of his own.

With time running out, Felix must race to uncover the truth behind his uncle’s disappearance while keeping his delinquent family’s claws off his childhood home—the run-down playhouse named The Star We Sail By.

Excerpt

The Star We Sail By
Glenn Quigley © 2024
All Rights Reserved

“It is the waves which break—not I.” Felix Diamond repeated this refrain to himself over and over again as he picked his way through the hustle and bustle of the Port Knot docklands. His personal maxim acted as a lifeline, leading him through any given storm and safely back to shore.

The ship on which he served had arrived at dawn to an already cluttered harbour. Without a word to his crewmates, Felix had stepped off and made straight for town. On that early December morning in 1781, the air was soft and wet, and the light thin. With his breath clouding about him, he pushed through the market, ignoring the stench of fish guts. Bundles of fresh flowers hung next to rows of empty birdcages. Furs from several kinds of animals sat in high piles on salt-rotten tables. Books and pamphlets on all manner of topics—from rumours about revolution in France to condemnations of the town’s new street lamps—cluttered several stalls. Cranes creaked as they unloaded goods from all four corners of the world. At the roofless court house nearby, hammers struck nails and men shouted obscenities and instructions in equal measure.

Felix had not long turned twenty-four and had the pinkish skin of a man who worked at sea in all weathers. He wore a short beard the colour of strong coffee, and a single curl dropped from beneath his woollen cap, coming to rest on his brow. The small gap between his front teeth whistled as he shouted away a mangy dog sniffing about his legs.

On the corner of Bibbler’s Brook, a man in a white frock coat embellished with seafoam-green oak leaves stood under a five-sided street lamp, working a long, knobbly, metal pole into its head. The light within the lamp dimmed first, then disappeared entirely. Two more dogs chased one other along the narrow, cobbled road and ran straight past the lamplighter. He jumped away and shouted at the young boys who, hooting and chattering, chased at full pelt after the dogs. Farther along, someone flapped a sheet out of a high window to give it an airing while a woman with a bony horse and slender cart collected odds and sods she found on the road.

The Star We Sail By stood on a bend in Bibbler’s Brook, not far from the harbour, on the north-eastern side of town. Its slim front doors nestled neatly between two jutting bay windows. Felix lingered at the locked front doors and tilted his head. Above the entrance, the prow of a sailing boat jutted out as a balcony for the first floor. Its masthead, called Atlas by the townsfolk, had seen better days. Shaped like a rotund and entirely naked gentleman whose modesty was halfheartedly covered with only a single, sheer ribbon, its paintwork curled like pages from an old book. Atlas held a murky stained glass star in its outstretched hands as if catching it or perhaps offering it to the weary traveller who stopped by.

Felix hesitated before taking two keys from his pocket. He found the first too small for the lock. The second fitted snugly. He turned it. Several bolts clicked and clanked. He readied himself and pushed the doors open. Inside, cracks of light pierced the rickety shutters. A shiny beetle scurried across the dusty bar. The tables held sticky pools of dried beer and gin. Tankards and glasses lay on their sides, some smashed on the wooden floor. Ashes sat undisturbed in the fireplace, and at the rear of the room, a little stage with tatty purple curtains stood primed but empty, like a broken promise.

“About time you opened.” A scruffy, unshaven man with a grog blossom nose had slipped in through the door unnoticed. He threw open the rest of the shutters in the windows, flooding the room with light, then coughed at the cloud of dust they released.

“I’m not open,” Felix said. “Please get out.”

“I’ve been here every morning for days. Days, I tell you!” the man said. “I’ve been practically homeless without this place.”

“I said get out.” His duffel bag slumped to the floor, and he readied himself to kick the man out if he had to. He hoped the man wouldn’t notice his rapid breathing.

“Don’t get all worked up,” the man said. He held his hands up and sat on a stool by the bar. “I don’t mean any harm. It’s nice to be home again.” He squinted at the sailor. “You’re the nephew, aren’t you? The one that ran away? The seaman. Fenton?”

“Felix.” He relaxed his hands and opened the other shutters. Clearly, this man wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m Tassiter, since you didn’t ask,” the man said. “Dick Tassiter.” He had beady eyes and straggly hair, and a face like a crumpled shirt abandoned at the bottom of the wardrobe. He eyed the bottles of gin lining a shelf behind the bar. “I’m your uncle’s best customer. Or I was.”

Felix peeked around a corner to the stairs. “He hasn’t been open for a while?”

“It’s been three days since those doors last opened. Three long, dry, thirsty days,” Tassiter said. “I thought I was cursed to wander the world forevermore without a drop to drink.” He pointed to one of the bottles. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Help yourself,” Felix said. He climbed the stairs.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Glenn Quigley is a graphic designer originally from Dublin and now living in Lisburn, Northern Ireland. He creates bear designs for www.themoodybear.com. He has been interested in writing since he was a child, as essay writing was the one and only thing he was ever any good at in school. When not writing or designing, he enjoys photography and has recently taken up watercolour painting.

Website | Twitter

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Feb 20

New Release Blitz: These Haunted Hills by Jana Denardo (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  These Haunted Hills

Author: Jana Denardo

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/20/2024

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 88800

Genre: Contemporary paranormal, contemporary, paranormal, ghosts/ghost hunters, academics, mystery, steampunk, cosplay, nerds and general geekiness, haunted houses, violence/ malevolent spirit, grieving, suicidal ideation

Add to Goodreads

Description

Young wildlife conservation professor, Joshua Zimmerman, adores foxes, steampunk, and paranormal investigation. As a geek of the first order, Josh is a collector of nerdy memorabilia and tattoos, and he’s an avid steampunk cosplayer. When his favorite author hires him for some ghost hunting for his new project, Josh can hardly believe his luck.

As an author of the wildly successful urban fantasy series, The Green Tablet, Brendan Halloran should have it all. And he did until his young son, Connor, died of cancer. Heartbroken and drowning in grief, Brendan stops writing, stops living his life. His marriage has disintegrated, leaving Brendan trapped in the moment Connor died.

When Brendan rents a cabin in Ohio’s Hocking Hills, it’s ostensibly to research his next book, an adult paranormal tale. Brendan hires a local professor who is an expert on the paranormal, thinking if he does pull out of his tail spin and makes good on his plan to write a new book, he might as well do it right. And the perfect place to investigate could be the remains of an old hotel constructed to suit the serial killer who built it.

Brendan finds himself swept away, completely unprepared for the joy and enthusiasm Josh brings to everything he does. Step by step, Brendan reenters life. His head might not be convinced he’s ready to love again, but his heart disagrees. Unfortunately for him, the ghost is every bit as vicious as the killer was in life, and he and Joshua have a target on their backs.

Excerpt

These Haunted Hills
Jana Denardo © 2024
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Brendan second-guessed his decision the moment he parked his car. He reminded himself it was exactly what he said he wanted: a cabin in the woods. The cold spring deluge lashing him from car to porch soured things further. To Brendan, the shower perfectly embodied the condition of his mind and soul.

Leaving his bag inside the door, Brendan drank in what would be his home for the next month. It could almost be called cute, in a rustic sort of way. The outside was a quintessential log cabin with a small porch bearing well-padded chairs. Only the green metal roof ruined the sixteenth-century settler homestead feel. Inside, the loft bedroom perched above the open-concept living area and kitchen. A tiny bathroom, tucked around the far corner of the kitchen, looked functional. As promised, there was a table, which would be useful as a writing desk for the times curling up on the couch with his laptop proved to be an ergonomic nightmare. He’d have to snap a photo of the stone fireplace with its fan-shaped iron guard and send it to Heather. She’d love it. A pang zinged his heart thinking about her.

He peered out one rain-streaked window. The only thing in view were trees, mostly pines mixed with something covered in blooms, dogwood maybe. Zimmermann had chosen Brendan the perfect cabin. The green isolation he’d chased after surrounded him. The forest suffocated him, the sheer aloneness of it. Those second thoughts skyrocketed. Heather hadn’t wanted him to come. She didn’t trust him alone. Brendan knew his ex had reason to worry. Both of them were mired in grief, and three years hadn’t moved them past it.

Brendan imagined giving in to the grief in a quiet place such as this cabin. No one would know until his month’s worth of rent was up. He shuddered and forced himself away from the window. His hypothesis wasn’t exactly true. Zimmermann would wonder where he was if Brendan missed their meeting. Brendan braved the chilling rain to grab his computer bag and three canvas bags of groceries out of the car. He busied himself with unpacking. His mood lifted to an inch above the floor once he filled the cabin with the scent of coffee.

With the groceries stowed, Brendan started a fire in a fireplace made for romance, but he wasn’t here for affairs of the heart. The small fire would be efficient in heating the cabin and driving the spring chill from the room.

Brendan planted himself with his coffee on the couch in front of the smallest TV he’d seen in ages. He shifted around on the futon, which seemed more comfortable than most of their ilk. Maybe someone had added a memory foam pad to it; whatever it was, Brendan was grateful since he would be spending a fair amount of time on it. Flipping on the TV, he reassured himself there was a functioning satellite and ditto the Wi-Fi for the computer, so there wouldn’t be some Overlook/The Shining isolation-driven craziness going on.

After turning the TV off, Brendan powered up his computer. He checked his emails and let Heather know he’d made it safely. He saw no emails from his agent, nor from the man he’d hired to show him around the haunted sites in the Hocking Hills area and the surrounding towns. Brendan brought up the These Haunted Hills website to determine what sites he should visit first. There were no pictures of Joshua Zimmermann on the website, just ones of the haunted locales.

Zimmermann had sent Brendan a photo at his request so Brendan would know who to look for when he met up with his guide for the month. One clue Brendan wasn’t completely dead inside was how cute he found Joshua. Zimmermann looked more like an undergrad in his picture and almost too boyish to be believable as an accomplished PhD, teaching wildlife conservation at a local university. It could be an old photo, or that his bright smile belied the number of years behind it.

Of all the potential haunted locations, Brendan wanted to visit Crooked Pines the most. A former hotel, Crooked Pines was now abandoned and theoretically too haunted and too ruined to be reclaimed; it contained a story, and Brendan needed to dig it out. His agent still doubted the idea of him writing a more adult ghost story, but it had been five years since the end of his young adult series. He’d written nothing new, though the adventures of Kiyomi Fujita, John Archer, and Vince Bianchi had generated more than enough money to live his life out twice over.

All his money hadn’t bought Brendan any happy endings. What had begun as a lucky break—and Brendan was well aware of how many fantastic authors never hit it big—became a noose. So many nights Brendan had lain awake wondering if the success of his series had drained the rest of the luck from his family’s life. The evidence suggested yes.

He stroked the cool glass pendant around his neck. All he wanted now was to write again. It had been so long. Most of what had come from his mind in the last three years had been pain-filled poems he had shown to no one, not even Heather. He thought, perhaps, taking a break from the young adult genre and all the memories associated with it would help him burst through his writer’s block.

Brendan could still taste the anger, bitter on his tongue. Being here in the wilderness made up the crux of his latest plan to move himself forward. The anger and grief had been woven into his soul, inseparable now. Either he had to live with it, or this was the end. Brendan wasn’t sure he cared which. He forced himself back to work, hoping to get lost in it.

Brendan tapped his lips in time to Piazzolla’s “Oblivion” as he rolled the outline for his new novel around in his mind. Maybe “Oblivion” was a little too on point for his state of mind. Perhaps he should hunt down some of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. Transferring his fingers to the keyboard, he tried to type out something, but mostly, the outline was a loose collection of things he wanted to happen in the novel more than anything concrete. Granted, his outlines rarely were more.

Maybe I should return to working on the character studies. What he wouldn’t give to be able to draw his own characters. Some of his fans drew exquisite works, a few of which he saved. For the most part, he never looked at them, and legally, looking at fanfiction was a bad idea. Regardless, people tweeted them at him or shoved them at him at conventions. Some of it was downright smutty, and he did his best not to notice. It didn’t take away the frisson of jealousy over some of the artistic talent they had that had gone missing in him.

A knocking noise startled him off the futon. Brendan caught his balance and whipped around, trying to locate the source. Another knock echoed from the loft. Brendan backed up so he could peer up there without going up the steps. Nothing moved. At the third knock, he hauled himself up the stairs, but the loft stood empty. He looked out the window at the waving tree branches. What did he expect to see? A raccoon? A squirrel?

“Did you rent me a haunted cabin, Dr. Zimmermann?” Brendan’s laugh died when a fourth knock came from right next to the window.

He pinched up his features and stared out the window again. Still no critters. “Lots of wind though,” he muttered to himself. “You’re hearing the rain on the tin roof or tree branches. Totally normal. Not like you’d know.”

Comforted by the normal sounds of rain and wind—he’d never had a tin roof before—Brendan went downstairs and sat on the futon. Ghosts weren’t real.

Then why have you been uncomfortable in your own home?

He picked up the laptop, contemplating the thought. Because you’re haunted by Connor’s memory, nothing more.

He was lying to himself. He half believed it was possible Connor’s spirit was trapped in their family home. It was enough to have prompted Zimmermann to mention he didn’t necessarily go to houses to “clean” them, but his team did home investigations. Brendan had gotten the distinct impression Zimmermann did not want to do this, and he got it. Zimmermann had probably guessed his pen name and was wary of celebrity.

Did you want someone to go to your home and do an investigation?

Brendan wished he had an answer to the question. He’d promised Zimmermann that, no, he didn’t; he had no interest in it. But was it a lie? Another question without a clear answer. Instead of dwelling on it, he sent off an email to Dr. Zimmermann to let the man know he’d arrived and was ready to meet. He’d come up with a few plans of attack when it came to investigating the local haunts and wanted to see which fit Zimmermann’s schedule best.

Brendan turned his attention to the character information sheets for his new project. They might change by the end, but he needed a starting place, a way to keep his mind off things. At this point, distracting himself was the best Brendan could hope for.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Jana is Queen of the Geeks (her students voted her in), and her home and office are shrines to any number of comic book and manga heroes along with SF shows and movies too numerous to count. It’s no coincidence that the love of all things geeky has made its way into many of her stories. To this day, she’s disappointed she hasn’t found a wardrobe to another realm, a superhero to take her flying among the clouds, or a roguish starship captain to run off to the stars with her.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Feb 20

New Release Blitz: Surfer Girl by Alex Winters (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Surfer Girl

Series: Good Sports, Book One

Author: Alex Winters

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/13/2024

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 24400

Genre: Contemporary, Romance, contemporary, lesbian, sports, surfer, beach town

Add to Goodreads

Description

Sophie Velasquez is staying at her parents’ beach house for the summer when a strange new sound wakes her up on the first day in town. She’s just graduated college and, with the whole summer ahead of her, had been planning on sleeping in. But all that changes when she finds a sexy surfer girl using their boardwalk shower after a little dawn patrol in the ocean. Suddenly, Sophie is bound and determined not just to learn how to surf—but how to win the sexy redhead’s heart.

Jessie Baltimore has been showering at the deserted beach cottage for months when, suddenly, a sexy young homeowner interrupts her daily routine—with a fresh can of iced espresso energy drink, that is. Rather than kick her off the property, curvaceous Sophie asks for surfing lessons instead. Jessie is all too glad to comply, hoping a morning in the surf will lead to a little afternoon delight—all summer long.

Excerpt

Surfer Girl
Alex Winters © 2024
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Sophie

Sophie Vasquez thought she’d set the sprinklers for early evening, not early morning. So why were they coming on just after sunrise? And why the hell was she up so early on her first day back in town?

She lay in bed for a moment, forearm over her eyes to shut out the morning light, before she realized she wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. The sprinkler must’ve been right outside the guestroom window. She heard it hiss and splash as she sat up from the futon, the wrought iron base beneath the thin mattress creaking wearily as she shifted.

There was a perfectly good queen size bed in the master bedroom, but that had always been her parents’ bed and, despite the fact they wouldn’t be joining her this summer (thank God!), Sophie still felt funny sleeping in their room.

Maybe if she had, she thought ruefully, the sprinklers wouldn’t have woken her up at such a godawful hour. It wasn’t that she was a late sleeper, per se. It was just she’d been hoping to sleep in after getting into town so late the night before.

She should have stayed on campus with a friend, but now that she’d finally graduated with her BA in Liberal Arts, all Sophie wanted to do was leave school in her rearview mirror and hole up in the family beach house, licking her wounds and plotting how to avoid the next, inevitable chapter in her preordained life.

She sighed, shaking the gloomy thoughts from her head. The transcripts, the low GPA, the disappointment, the inevitable dustup with her stepfather when Sophie announced she didn’t really want to pursue her graduate studies after all, the stony silence, the subtle insistence, and the inevitable acceptance that life would just be easier if she succumbed. What was another two years of college, anyway?

That was for later, though. Much later. For now, on her first day back in Siesta Beach, Florida after four long years matriculating in Atlanta, all Sophie wanted to do was to sleep for twelve hours straight, order some takeout from Chopstix, her favorite strip mall Chinese restaurant, raid her parents’ liquor cabinet, and binge-watch her favorite supernatural lesbian series, Vampire Vixens from Venus. Instead, she was up at the ass crack of dawn, fretting about how to set the sprinklers to come on later for future mornings.

Stretching like a cat after a midday nap, Sophie stirred from the futon and ignored the pile of clothes spilling out of her duffel bag like an overstuffed taco. Bras and panties and socks and baby doll tees overflowed from the center after she rifled through it to find her favorite sleep shirt, only to realize it was still in the car with the rest of her things.

Like the inevitable fight with her family, that could all come later too.

Frustrated, whiny, and wanting someone—or, at least, some inanimate object—to blame, Sophie slipped two fingers between the curtains, gently easing them aside to scowl at the offending sprinkler heads, as if one good side eye could silence them and somehow manage to salvage her sleepy morning and send her straight back to Dreamland. Instead, Sophie’s eyes grew wide, her heart racing and sleep suddenly the last thing on her frenzied, frazzled mind. Just outside, atop the rustic back deck, sagging and warped from years of weather and wear, a comely young surfer doused her alabaster skin in her makeshift boardwalk shower.

Sophie marveled at the sight as she followed thick rivulets of water down the surfer girl’s body, lean and glistening under the water’s gentle tendrils. She wore a crocheted bikini, chocolate brown and periwinkle blue against pale, freckled skin. Her eyes were closed as she slid her head beneath the spray, water dancing across her sandy shoulders and rippling off the bow holding her bikini top in place.

Sophie inched to the edge of the windowsill, the wood pressing against her aching loins, and slid the curtain open an inch or two more to steal a better view. She tried to ignore the sexy stranger’s small breasts, the long lean waist, and even longer legs as she stood on tiptoes to get the most from the weak water pressure above her head, combing her fingers through her wet auburn hair. But she failed. It was like a scene from a movie, one only Sophie could see.

The world shrank around her, zooming in tight on the window in front of her face, the curtains on either side of her, the dust bunnies on the hardwood floor beneath her feet and the soft, scruffy field of grass leading to the sagging walkway where the lone surfer showered, unaware she was being ogled by a desperate college grad just yards away.

The rising sun cast the athletic redhead in golden hues and dramatic shadows as Sophie licked her lips and made a split-second decision that would alter the course of her entire summer, one way or the other. She drifted from the windowsill, bare feet skittering across the wooden floors, and sprinted down the short, narrow hallway into the kitchen, heart pounding from the heady blend of anxiety and anticipation.

Not being a surfer herself, despite growing up in scenic Siesta Beach, Sophie had no idea how long it took a surfer to shower after a morning spent frolicking in the waves. Instinctively, however, she imagined it was far less time than she would need to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Panicking, the minutes ticking down, her spike of courage flatlining with every wasted millisecond, she opened the fridge to find a single tallboy can of Joltz, her favorite brand of iced espresso energy drink.

Her mother must’ve left it after spending last Christmas at the cottage with her second husband, Roy. Checking the expiration date, Sophie exhaled loudly to find she still had a few months left to go. Still, she cursed herself for being too lazy to stop at Bob’s Bodega on her way into town and stock up on something vaguely more…enticing.

If only she’d made the five-minute detour on her way back into town the night before, she might’ve had something a little more surfer-friendly to offer the sexy interloper. Organic gluten-free guava juice, for instance. Or perhaps even a pomegranate and kiwi smoothie blend in one of those fancy, hipster glass jars. Still, she reasoned that a cold can of iced coffee was better than showing up empty-handed.

Finger combing her curly black hair, fixing on a tempting (she hoped) smile, Sophie was about to breeze straight outside when she caught her reflection in the double French doors leading out to the deck. Unable to find her favorite baggy sleep shirt the (late) night before, Sophie had lazily unzipped her yoga hoodie and wriggled out of her capri pants before climbing into bed in nothing more than a skimpy pair of panties and the soft ribbed tank top she’d worn beneath the jacket. No bra, and she could practically feel the ocean breeze on the soft swell of her ass cheeks poking out from her skimpy boy cut panties.

Fortunately, her mom always kept her favorite silk kimono hanging from the edge of the dark wood Asian screen in the corner. She used it as a beach cover-up mostly, or as a robe in the mornings. Sophie dragged it on over her skimpy sleep outfit and hustled to the door. Breezing through at last, she approached at a cautious pace, still managing to startle the redheaded surfer who’d been reaching for her lemon-yellow board.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, using the board to cover herself as if she was naked. Sophie laughed at the quick blush that rose to her pale, adorably freckled cheeks. Holding her hands up as if approaching a wild animal to feed it, Sophie wriggled the tall drink can like a white flag of surrender.

“It’s okay,” she said, adopting a soothing voice and hoping the sexy stranger wouldn’t notice the vague, husky tone of desire layering her vocal cords. The surfer shook her head as if no, it was definitely not okay.

“I-I didn’t know anybody was staying here,” she sputtered desperately, fingers clinging to the surfboard like a safety blanket. “It’s been vacant all year, so…”

Sophie nodded, inching closer—but not too close. “I just got in late last night,” she explained. “I heard the water this morning and saw you out here and, well, I…I thought you might like something to drink…”

The redhead lowered her board slightly, as if literally letting down her guard. “I’m so embarrassed,” she said, voice a hoarse croak of misery.

Sophie nodded toward her blushing cheeks, offering a wry, hopefully comforting smile. “I can…see that.”

Alas, it only made the mystery girl blush all the more. Not that Sophie was complaining, mind you. She had never seen anything quite so adorable in all her life. They remained at a quiet impasse, the two of them standing on the weathered walkway leading to the beach but still a safe distance apart.

Sophie leaned her hip against the wooden railing to make it clear she wasn’t coming any closer before setting the can of iced espresso on the top ledge. “Are you coming in from a session?” she hazarded, trying to remember what surfers called what they did out in the waves. “Or just going out?”

The redhead lowered her board a little more, until it rested along the opposite railing. “Just coming in,” she explained, before sliding a stray lock of wet hair behind one still blushing ear. Nodding toward the leaking shower head, she explained, “My apartment complex doesn’t have an outdoor shower. Since no one’s ever here, I usually stop by and rinse off before I head home. I’m sooooo sorry, it’ll literally never happen again.”

Sophie’s heart danced a little flutter to think she might never look out her window and see clear water caressing the curves and ridges of the redhead’s supple body again.

“Honestly,” she said, trying not to sound so desperate. “It’s no big deal. If my mom and stepdad were here with me this summer? Sure, maybe. Roy is pretty anal about things like that. Most things, actually. Like grades and GPA and grad school and weight and gym memberships, but…I digress.” Sophie shook her head at her sudden trauma dump and struggled to get back on track, offering a goofy grin. “But it’s just me for the rest of the summer and, honestly? I could care less.”

She grinned anew.

That’s the understatement of the century!

Surfer Girl still looked uncertain, long fingers wriggling at her side as if she might reach for her board and dash back out into the waves for a quick getaway.

“I’m Sophie, by the way,” she said, suddenly remembering her manners and extending a reassuring hand.

The redhead smiled, grabbing it strongly and pumping it twice before letting go. Somehow, Sophie knew immediately she’d never forget that first electric touch, soft, pale skin against her own flushing hands. “Jessie.”

Sophie had always liked girls with boys’ names, especially surfer girls with boys’ names. Especially surfer girls with boys’ names whose bodies looked like Jessie’s. She nodded, pushing the can of Joltz just a little closer. It slid along the weathered railing, leaving a soft, damp trail of condensation in its wake.

“Here, go on, take it.”

Jessie looked at it, eyes hungry as she licked her lips. “Are you sure? I mean, when I saw you bolting out here just now, I thought it was to kick me out, not give me breakfast.”

Sophie waved the thought away. “Don’t all homeowners offer you breakfast when you trespass on their property?” For once, Jessie skipped the blushing and went straight to giggling. Sophie thought it was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Alex Winters is the pseudonym of a busy restaurant manager whose curious young staff would love nothing more than to follow him around the dining room reading his steamiest, most romantic passages aloud! When not writing romantic holiday stories of various heat levels, he enjoys long walks with his wife, scary movies, and smooth jazz. Visit him social media to see what stories are brewing up next!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Load more