New Release Blitz: Hollywood to Horses by Dez Schwartz (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Hollywood to Horses

Author: Dez Schwartz

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/14/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 29800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Equestrian, Horses, Sports, Rivals to Lovers, Over 40, Gay, Bisexual, Rom Com

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Description

Mateo Harris, a retired Olympic Show Jumper, achieved just about everything he could want in life. Rising from a nobody to becoming a beloved gold-medalist, co-owning H&H Riding Academy with his cousin—and best friend—Emily Hall, and he’s one of the most powerful and respected men in his hometown of Sweetspire, VA. Nothing can shake the foundations of the life he’s built for himself. That is until he hears his nemesis and former crush, Christopher Wright II, has moved back to town.

Christopher, a runaway movie star, has returned to Sweetspire to inherit the family business: Wright Stables, the only rival riding academy Mateo has ever had to worry about. With Christopher’s charm, talent, and fame taking charge, Mateo is faced with real competition both in and out of the arena. He’ll have to be at the top of his game to prove he’s still the number one equestrian in town, but every encounter with Christopher becomes as challenging as any obstacle he’s faced on horseback.

Excerpt

Hollywood to Horses
Dez Schwartz © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Mateo Harris and his black Belgian warmblood soared over a post-and-plank obstacle, then galloped in a curve to face two gates in proximity. They leapt over both with swift ease. The final stretch sent them gliding over the triple bars as they completed the course in a flawless fashion.

Mateo’s students applauded from the fence where they each sat astride their own horses, the eagerness for a chance to try the course themselves apparent.

The solid thud beneath Mateo’s riding boots reverberated through him, a satisfying crescendo indicating the finale of his performance. He believed a rider should never consider themselves finished showing until they were no longer on horseback. Although he hated to admit to himself, the ache in his right knee also grounded him in the truth—injury and age.

Defying reality, and because of his inherent showmanship, Mateo pivoted his athletic body in one graceful movement to face his pupils.

“And that’s how you win an Olympic gold medal in show jumping,” he announced. “Any questions?”

His students applauded, and he grabbed the reigns to lead his horse out of the arena.

“Why can’t you still win them?” a snide voice rang out. “Maybe you could teach us how to not fall off our horses.” The comment, which referenced an injury he sustained at his last Olympic competition, came from a tall blonde girl, Payton Parker, who Mateo found irritating on any given day; this one especially.

Most of the students appeared to hold their breath after the bold insult as if all the oxygen of the pleasant Virginian afternoon had been depleted. Their wide eyes showed they’d never dream of saying such a thing to someone so well regarded. Known for his equestrian accomplishments in the city of Sweetspire, the waitlist to get into H&H Riding Academy—the school Mateo and his cousin, Emily Hall, ran together—was as long as his list of accolades.

A few uncontrolled giggles cropped up, and Payton smirked at him to show she found the power-play to her peers worth any repercussion.

Mateo pursed his lips and produced a warning smile as he approached Payton, taking his time to remove his black riding gloves finger by finger.

He addressed her but did so loud enough so the entire class would be sure to hear him. “Your parents pay me excessive amounts of inherited money to turn entitled leeches like yourself into professional equestrians. As if any amount of funding could ever supply you with the aptitude you so obviously, and painfully, lack. You’ll be lucky to ever win so much as a participation trophy awarded for anything other than nepotism. You’re hereby dismissed from this class, Payton. In fact, because I’m feeling particularly plucky today, you are expelled. Good day, Miss Parker. I’ll expect a call from your parents as soon as the nanny reminds them they have children.”

The same student giggles returned, this time siding with Mateo and proving to be as good as a slap in the face for Payton. Fuming, she coaxed her Hanoverian toward the exit of the outdoor arena. She shouted over her shoulder as she left. “There are other riding academies, you know! I’ll go to Wright Stables! I don’t need you to win a blue ribbon!”

“I agree. You need talent!”

Nothing made him see red faster than mention of Wright Stables, his only real local competitor.

He chided himself for being drawn into an immature argument with a spoiled teenager and moved to get his class back on task.

“If anyone else would like to be expelled today, please, negligently criticize me. Otherwise, run your courses!”

Mateo waved them off, and they rushed to begin taking turns practicing the paces.

He led his prized horse, Top Shelf, back to the stables and handed him off to a stable hand. Once out of the long corridor on the other side of the luxury barn, Mateo reached inside his navy-blue riding blazer, grabbed his flask, and threw back a swig of French vodka.

He took a deep breath of the balmy late afternoon air, letting the heat of the drink warm his chest and relax him.

He spotted Cameron Myers leaning on the fencing of a corral where he had a student practicing dressage basics. The lines from Cameron’s dancer’s muscles showed through his thin white shirt whenever he leaned forward on the railing, and he combed his fingers through his wavy chestnut hair as he shouted out instructions to the student for improvement. Cameron clapped his approval when the student followed his recommendation to the letter.

He’s a much nicer instructor than I could ever be. It’s a good thing I hired him, or my student body might be severely lacking in numbers.

Cameron raised an eyebrow once he turned to Mateo. “Little early for that, don’t you think?”

Mateo found his youthful naivety charming and smiled. “Just a light afternoon snack.”

The corners of Cameron’s eyes crinkled sympathetically. “Tough day?”

“I teach overly indulged teenage millionaires how to make an animal jump over brightly colored poles for a living.” He took another drink at the thought. “Every day is tough.”

Cameron chuckled and turned his attention back to his own student. “You know you love every minute of it.”

Mateo grinned, putting the flask away. “No, you love it. I just have an affinity for collecting dead presidents.”

“You know I don’t believe that for a second.” Cameron signaled to the young rider to start their routine over. “I wouldn’t be here if that were true.”

Appreciative of his candidness, Mateo patted Cameron’s shoulder.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Dez Schwartz is a LGBTQ, Dreampunk, & Gothic Romance author and artist based in San Angelo, Texas. She holds a BFA in Studio Art and worked as a graphic artist, and a Director’s Assistant at a fine arts museum, before transitioning to writing full-time.

Her longtime love of Victorian spiritualism, gay literary fiction, and romantic comedies inspired her to begin writing all of the stories she wished existed.

When she’s not passionately crafting tales, she can be found drawing, researching, or traveling with loved ones.

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New Release Blitz: Finding the Wolf by Mell Eight (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Finding the Wolf

Series: The Dragon’s Hoard, Book One

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/14/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 24600

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, dragons, werewolves, magic/magic users, interspecies, immortal, royalty, virgin, war

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Description

When Prince Leon disappears, his people turn to the dragons for help. Nyle is the unlucky dragon tasked with finding Leon, a duty he dreads as it forces him into the confounding human world and far away from his collection of pretties.

Locating a missing prince should be a simple matter, but if Nyle has learned anything about humans since being forced among them, it’s that they needlessly complicate everything. When he finally locates the errant prince, however, what Nyle finds is a treasure worth all the complications—and worth protecting at any cost.

Excerpt

Finding the Wolf
Mell Eight © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Nyle walked through the crowded bazaar with an eye on his coin purse. He had heard stories of humans who stole such things and did not wish to be the first of his kind to experience such ill luck.

He also kept an eye on the crowds. He doubted he would locate his quarry on his first foray into the human market, but there were clues he could find by simply being aware.

For example, the way the fishmonger in the corner stall blatantly gripped his meat cleaver as a group of ragged children exited an alleyway and dispersed into the bustle was probably a good indicator. Nyle would keep an eye on those children—they might have something to do with the disappearances of purses—but the man at the fish stall might have some interesting information. Nyle decided to head there first.

Someone jostled Nyle on their way toward a dour woman selling ribbons and beads across the way. He grimaced and held back a growl. They were humans, creatures clearly not versed in the niceties of society, and while their ignorance didn’t excuse them, it did allow Nyle to rationalize not taking the oafs who rudely bumped him to task. He had a job, and giving in to the urge to roar and breathe flames was not conducive to completing his task.

Nyle was dressed like a human. A loose pair of pants and a shirt that laced up the front comprised his costume, and if the fabric was of a tighter weave than the rest of the local class of humans, at least he looked the part.

“I’m searching for a young man,” Nyle said when he reached the wooden stall covered in fish. The fishmonger had known which children to watch. Perhaps he would also know Nyle’s target.

“Yeah?” the man asked. “Well, I haven’t seen any men around today.” He looked straight at Nyle, a male and only one of dozens who frequented the market, as he spoke.

Nyle guessed that was what humans called digging for incentives. His own kind didn’t much care for the art of blackmail.

Nyle reached into his carefully guarded purse and brought out two uncut copper coins, each enough to buy a small fish. He flashed the coins at the man and leaned forward.

“A tall man with very long black hair and blue eyes,” Nyle said as he pressed one coin to the wood surface of the stall.

The coin vanished into a gut-stained hand. “I seen him two days ago,” the man replied, eyes fixed greedily on the coin Nyle still held. “Not since then.”

Nyle set the second coin on the stall, but kept a finger on it. “Any idea where he could have gone? Or who else I could ask?”

The man tensed and kept his gaze fixed on the second coin as if he knew not to look into Nyle’s gold-colored eyes. Nyle slowly dragged the coin away from the man.

“The red-light district,” the man gasped out as if forced, his eyes stuck on the shiny coin. “You ask round there.”

Nyle released the coin, and the copper flashed in the late-morning sun. The fish man’s eyes remained riveted for another second before he shook himself free of the compulsion. The second coin vanished as quickly as the first, and the man looked up and caught Nyle’s eyes.

A mistake, but Nyle would use the fish man’s ignorance to his advantage.

“That boy ain’t right,” the man slurred, caught in the golden shine that filled the eyes of all Nyle’s kind. “Wild,” he continued, spilling everything he knew to the sheen in Nyle’s eyes, “as if a beast were trying to break free and fly away.”

Nyle blinked and looked away as the man sagged behind his booth. Nyle wasn’t feeling in top form either now. Catching someone with his eyes was more effective than using copper, but it cost him so much more magic. Nyle decided to return home for some rest before heading to the red-light district. Besides, he had heard humans preferred the nighttime for such activities.

Nyle didn’t really understand humans, but he was still young and would learn all there was to know eventually.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

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

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New Release Blitz: Shelton in Love by Dianne Hartsock (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Shelton in Love

Author: Dianne Hartsock

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/14/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 58700

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, friends to lovers, marriage, contemporary, roommate

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Description

Shelton is falling hard for his best friend and roommate, finding Nevil’s dark good looks and moments of gentleness almost impossible to resist. But Nevil is more interested in affairs of the body than the heart. As Shelton’s desire for the man grows, he wonders if he can change Nevil’s mind. But does he even want to? Nevil might not stay once he learns Shelton’s secret, and then his loneliness would be complete.

Shelton in Love is told in five stories spanning two and a half years of Shelton and Nevil’s relationship, the ups and downs, trials and celebrations, with a promise, a separation, a frantic return, temptation and a final triumph. Sometimes Shelton finds it difficult to love a beautiful man, but Nevil is worth the effort.

Excerpt

Shelton in Love
Dianne Hartsock © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Shelton ignored the flutter in his stomach he always experienced when invited into Nevil’s room and settled back into the cushions of the chair. “Who’s the lucky color?” he asked, trying to feign indifference.

Nevil drew a pair of socks from the top drawer of the bureau at random. “Ah, the gray ones.”

“What? Percy again? Didn’t you have him earlier in the week?”

“So what? These socks have never let me down,” Nevil countered and rubbed the soft wool against his cheek, purring like a happy kitten.

Shelton’s stomach knotted at the decadent smile on Nevil’s face. Nevil had made it clear when they had first met he’d enjoy sleeping with him. The jealousy eating Shelton now was his own fault, but was it wrong of him to want more from Nevil than a passing fling?

He shoved away the thought of sharing a meaningful relationship with Nevil, knowing it could never happen. However, the desire made Nevil’s flirtation all the more hurtful. “Fine, but if you make the man fall in love with you, you can buy us an answering machine and listen to his calls when I’m not home. I don’t want to hear him whine when you break it off.”

Nevil looked at him, raising a finely arched brow. “Who says I’ll break it off?”

“Get real. You’ll be bored in less than a week. Remember Daniel Pratte? You scarcely managed six days with him after swearing to all who’d listen you’d love him forever. He called for weeks after you told him it was over, hoping you’d be the one to pick up the phone. Admittedly, he was a bit of a prig, but I’m the one who had to listen to him sobbing his heart out. I refuse to do that with Percy.”

“Danny wasn’t the right man for me. I haven’t made up my mind about Percy.” Nevil unknowingly twisted the knife deeper into Shelton’s heart. Shelton held his breath when Nevil sat back against the headboard and lifted his foot onto the bed, pushing up the cuff of his tan Dockers. Moistening his lips, Shelton fought his attraction as he watched Nevil pull the sock over his foot and up a muscular calf. He was a faithful jogger and in May already had the beginnings of a fabulous tan.

Shelton’s treacherous gaze followed the fine dark hair up Nevil’s leg until it disappeared under the cuff of his pants. Captivated, his gaze continued upward to where the fabric tented nicely at the juncture of his thighs. His heart skipped a beat when Nevil shifted on the bed and the material pressed against a definite bulge.

Panicked, he raised his head, hoping Nevil hadn’t observed his interest. Nevil’s beautiful blue-green eyes watched him; then Nevil cocked an eyebrow. Shelton pushed to his feet from the chair, his face burning at Nevil’s slightly mocking smile. “I’m going to make a sandwich. Do you want one?”

“No, thanks. I need to save room for dessert,” Nevil reminded him as his tongue flicked over his lips. An image of Percy’s nicely rounded butt in tight jeans flashed through Shelton’s mind.

“Suit yourself,” Shelton muttered, watching as Nevil crossed his legs to leisurely pull on the second sock. Tearing his gaze from the provocative sight before acting on the impulse to join Nevil on the bed and strip him of clothing, Shelton left the room and stomped to the kitchen, grabbing meat and cheese from the refrigerator. He swore under his breath as he slathered mayonnaise on the bread, hating Percy and every other man represented in the myriad of colored socks in Nevil’s top drawer.

Eating at the counter, he glanced up to find Nevil leaning against the door frame watching him. Shelton wondered what the thoughtful look on his face meant.

“Do you have plans?” Nevil asked after a moment.

“Tera wants to do a photo shoot down by the lake.”

“Now? The sun will be down in an hour.”

Shelton shrugged. “She’s your sister. Think you can talk your twin out of a course of action when she’s made up her mind to do it? I can’t.”

Nevil snorted. “Neither can I.” He straightened. “Well, I’m off. See you later, darling,” he said as if they were a couple. Shelton felt the blood mount in his cheeks, infuriated by his callousness. Nevil had to be aware of his feelings for him. Why did he feel it was necessary to flaunt his lovers in his face?

Remembering the sandwich in his hands, he glowered at it, no longer hungry. Climbing off the stool, he tossed the sandwich in the garbage under the sink, wrinkling his nose at the ripe odor that wafted from the canister.

Shelton’s shoulders slumped, and he leaned a hip against the counter, discouraged. Maybe it was time to admit defeat and move out. He and Nevil had become friends when his firm had hired Nevil’s architectural company to design their new office building. They’d moved in together when the project was completed, Shelton finding Nevil’s dark good looks, dry humor, and moments of gentleness on the edge of irresistible.

He’d hoped that with proximity, the attraction between them would grow into a more lasting connection. He let out a dejected breath, realizing it was his own fault it hadn’t. Shelton had never shared with Nevil the true reason why he wouldn’t sleep with him.

I’m afraid. It’s that simple.

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.

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June 28th – July 4th Sea Lover by J.K. Pendragon BLITZ

Publisher: NineStar Press
Author: J.K. Pendragon
Release Date: June 28, 2021
Category: Romance
Genre: Paranormal
Word Count: 27300
Sex Content: Explicit
Pairing: MM
Orientation: Bi, Gay
Identity: Cis, Trans

Ian is happy with his life in a remote Canadian fishing town, where he has only the sea and his fishing crew for company. People say being alone is terrible, but he’s never had any problems with it.

Then his peaceful life is thrown into upheaval when he finds an injured merman washed up on the shore. With no idea what else to do, Ian takes the merman home and nurses him back to health.

But as he helps S’mika heal, a bond begins to form, and Ian starts to wonder if maybe there is more to life than being alone…

SIGN UP: June 28th – July 4th Elemental Ride by Mell Eight BLITZ

Publisher: NineStar Press
Author: Mell Eight
Release Date: June 28, 2021
Category: Romance
Genre: Paranormal
Word Count: 21300
Sex Content: Explicit
Pairing: MM
Orientation: Gay
Identity: Cis
Warning: Graphic violence

Rawley isn’t the type to crush hard and fast on anyone, but he’s helpless when it comes to Reign, the new mail carrier. Even his bikes and his job as enforcer for a local motorcycle gang, the center of his world, don’t compare to his interest in Reign. Unfortunately, Reign doesn’t seem to be as interested—but secrets and magic have a way of turning everything upside down and Rawley discovers he not only loves one man, he loves four.

SIGN UP: June 28th – July 4th Did it All Before by Cynthia Hamill BLITZ

Publisher: NineStar Press
Author: Cynthia Hamill
Release Date: June 28, 2021
Category: Romance
Genre: Contemporary
Word Count: 115600
Sex Content: Explicit
Pairing: MM
Orientation: Gay
Identity: Cis
Warning: death of a close friend (past); discussion of death of a loved one (past); description of terrorist/war violence, gore (past), and scarring from injuries; medical procedures; alcohol abuse (brief mention); depiction of PTSD/ anxiety attack

Award-winning photojournalist Scott Rowe is struggling with the physical injuries and emotional scars caused by the terrorist attack that killed his interpreter, Omran Saleh. A long succession of doctors and surgeons have put his body back together, but to Scott, his mind seems beyond repair. Panic attacks ambush his days, and nightmares haunt his fitful sleep. He can’t bring himself to touch his broken camera, let alone consider returning to work. His only sanctuary is the darkroom, where he can escape the secret he carries surrounding Omran’s death.

Dr Jason Andrews is determined to bring Scott back from the brink. His alternative healing methods are like nothing Scott has ever seen, and at first, Scott feels foolish lying on Jason’s table with hot rocks in his hands or acupuncture needles in his skin. But one thing keeps Scott coming back: the detailed visions that appear like movies in his mind, of himself in other times, cultures, and continents, and Jason himself, whose relentless hope steers them through the storms of Scott’s recovery.

As his health improves, Scott begins to wonder what his visions mean. Are they vivid daydreams, figments of his exhausted mind? And why does he only have these visions when he is with Jason?

Scott hopes the answers will give him a reason to make peace with Omran’s death and begin to truly live again, instead of merely surviving. But what if they also give him a reason to love?

Book Blitz: Scorned Gods by Mychael Black (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Scorned Gods

Author: Mychael Black

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: June 18, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 154

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Urban Fantasy, Multiple Partners, Multisexual & Pansexual, Rock Star, Vampires

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Synopsis

Music isn’t all that Scorned Gods has to offer.

Iconoclast (Scorned Gods 1): Death metal group Scorned Gods needs a new singer. Firestarter’s former lead singer Jason Summerfield and his lover Julian Kristados are back in the United States, and Jason is itching to get back on stage. What he gets, however, is far more than that — and not all of it is good.

Delirium (Scorned Gods 2): Jason and Julian have acquired a new lover, Scorned Gods’ bassist, Saul. But a cult of vampires is hell-bent on starting a war between mortals and vampires. Its first prime targets are psychic vampires like Jason’s bandmates…

Shackled (Scorned Gods 3): With help from an Abaddon ally, Jason and his bandmates will have to act quickly to stop Harlan Yates. The escaped mortal, Daniel, is the unwilling beacon that can bring destruction upon them all.

Karma’s Brutality (Scorned Gods 4): With their allies from Abaddon, Jason takes the fight directly to Yates. Jason and his bandmates from Scorned Gods are about to discover combat is not for the faint of heart. Not everyone will come out unscathed, but that’s the nature of war.

Publisher’s Note: Scorned Gods (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Iconoclast, Delirium, Shackled, and Karma’s Brutality.

Excerpt

Scorned Gods (Box Set)
Mychael Black
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Mychael Black
Excerpt from Iconoclast

The door slammed shut, and Saul Calderon glanced at his bandmates. “Well, that was a waste of time. Now what?”

Twins Nicholas and Dana Reid both sighed, though Dana spoke up first. “Good riddance,” she said. “There are other singers — most with more talent than that jackass had. We can find someone.”

“Hopefully in enough time to actually learn the songs,” her brother grumbled.

Saul sat on the stool beside his amp, his bass resting on his lap. “Where do these fuckers come from? You’d think someone who claims to be a ‘big fan’ would actually know our songs.”

“Hell if I know,” Dana said with a shrug. She set her sticks on her snare and redid her fire-engine red ponytail. Although she and Nicholas were twins, they weren’t identical. She looked nothing like her brother. “We need… new blood.”

A shiver snaked its way up Saul’s spine. None of them had fed in a few days, and although they didn’t drink blood, the urge for it occasionally hit. Dana gave him a knowing look. She’d been the one to bring them together years ago. Back then, they’d only sensed kindred spirits who needed energy to survive. The music had been a happy accident. But even among vampires, their kind were pariahs. Rumors ran rampant about the band members’ true natures, though no one knew the exact truth. Sometimes, they tossed in a random blood feeding onstage just to drive the crowd wild, but Saul preferred tantric energy to blood any day.

“Yo, dude!”

Fingers snapped in front of Saul’s face, and he shook his head. Nicholas gave him a quizzical look.

“Sorry. Just… zoned out, I guess,” Saul said. “Dana’s right, though. We need someone new, someone this fucking city hasn’t heard.”

“Good luck with that,” Nicholas said. “That idiot was number… shit, I don’t even remember now.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Saul wasn’t sure he believed that himself, but it felt good to say, at least. His cell buzzed in his pocket, and he tugged it out to glance at the text message. “Huh.”

“Who is it?” Dana asked.

“Some guy named Jason Summerfield. Says he sang with Firestarter.”

“The pyro band?” Nicholas grinned.

Saul shrugged. “I suppose. I don’t know of any other Firestarter.”

“Didn’t they break up a few years ago?” Dana began packing her things. “I caught one of their shows. If it’s the same guy, he’s fucking good.”

Saul read the text aloud:

My name is Jason Summerfield. I found your ad and am looking for a new band. I just moved to town a few weeks ago, but I fronted Firestarter for several years in Atlanta.

“What have we got to lose?” Nicholas asked as he put away his guitar.

“I’ll set up a time tomorrow then,” Saul said.

While Noah and Dana finished getting their things together, Saul replied to the text.

Hey there. I’ve heard of Firestarter, though I never saw you guys live. I play bass for Scorned Gods. I’d like to meet and chat, see if you’d be a good fit. When’s a good time for you?

A few minutes passed, and Saul walked Dana and Noah to the front door of his loft. Just as he shut the door, his phone buzzed again.

Anytime tonight would be great.

He texted back, How about eight?

Sounds great.

Awesome. I know a cool little coffeehouse downtown called Urban Joe’s. Need directions?

Nah. I can find it. See you then.

Saul grinned. If this guy was as good as Dana claimed, maybe things would work out after all. He grabbed his laptop off the kitchen table and sat down on the couch. A quick Google search yielded photos, mp3 clips, and vids of Firestarter. Saul stared at a promo pic of Jason Summerfield.

“Holy shit, he’s hot.”

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

Meet the Author

Myc has been writing professionally since 2005, solo and with Shayne Carmichael. Genres include pretty much anything (no steampunk yet), though Myc is well known for paranormal stories. When not writing, Myc is usually playing PC games, reading, watching Netflix, and spending way too much time on Facebook. Since the question has come up in the past, pronouns are not an issue. Myc is bio-female, mentally male, and 100% genderfluid, so any pronoun works!

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New Release Blitz ~ Hell Raising and Other Pastimes by Jayce Carter (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Hell Raising and Other Pastimes by Jayce Carter

Book 2 in the Perfect Taboo series

Word Count: 71,360
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 276

GENRES:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL
REVERSE HAREM

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Book Description

People have told me to go to hell—I guess they finally got their wish.

I’ve finally accepted the fact that I might not be entirely human, but still life doesn’t give me a break. Instead, I’m sucked into hell at Lucifer’s demand, and realize death is even more complicated than my life was.

I have to survive hell—where everything wants to kill me—so I can confront the devil himself. My love life is even more complex, though. Troy is terrified of his werewolf side hurting me, Kase and Grant are lying to me and Hunter is keeping his own secrets. I know better than to trust anyone, especially the men who have taken over my life.

Get to Lucifer’s Court, find out the truth about the missing spirits, figure out exactly what I am and try not to die along the way. Oh, and don’t fall in love with the men who will for sure break my heart and possibly get me killed.

Easy enough, right?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, bloodshed and death. There are references to parental abandonment and tattooing a child.

Excerpt

So, hell was pretty much what I’d expected.

Troy sat across from me in a small cave we’d taken shelter in, still avoiding looking at me, turning the spit with something cooking on it over the fire.

I had decided against asking what it was they were roasting, because I doubted any answer to that would make me happy.

If it were some strange hellbeast, I’d be grossed out, and if it were a cute, fluffy critter, I’d be sad.

Some questions were better left unasked, such as “Do I look fat in these?” or “Do you think my sister is hot?” and “What animal did this come from?”

Hunter came into the cave looking far too happy, as though he’d been waiting anxiously for just this moment. Hell, he was almost skipping.

Kase, on his heels, appeared significantly less pleased with the turn of events.

“I love the smell of brimstone in the morning.” Hunter set down an oddly shaped cup in front of me.

I took a closer look at the dish, the white of it standing out against the dimness of the everything else. “Where’d you get this?”

“Don’t worry about it. Drink. You mortals get parched fast out here.”

His answer didn’t ease me at all, so I lifted the cup closer to the fire. The white took a moment to place, and once I did, I couldn’t unsee it. “Is this bone?”

Hunter groaned and sat cross-legged on the other side of the fire. “I told you not to worry about it.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to drink out of a bone cup.”

“I have skulls, if they’re more your style.”

I was ready to yell at him for the stupid joke until I realized he probably wasn’t kidding. Somehow, the idea that Hunter had a collection of fine china made from bones in hell seemed right on par for him.

Especially the way he had no shame over it.

“Drink,” Kase said, nodding toward it. “I doubt you want to die of dehydration while in hell.”

“At least it’d be a short trip if I did,” I muttered before closing my eyes—it’d be easier if I didn’t have to actually see the cup—and drank the water in big gulps. I figured if I finished it off quickly, I’d have to touch the thing for less time overall.

Which was a stupid reaction since I’d touched dead bodies plenty of times.

But I’d never use them as flatware. There were some lines a person didn’t cross.

The water was warm, stale and tinged with an odd taste that made me want to gag a bit as I downed it.

Still, once I finished it, I handed back the empty cup. “Why would Lucifer drop us here? I thought he wanted to see me?”

Hunter shrugged. “He might figure a good test would be worth it. Anyone who can’t survive a few days journey in hell isn’t someone important enough for him to meet in person. Or maybe he intended for us to get dropped in his Court, but something went wrong. Magic doesn’t work quite right on you.”

“Things aren’t supposed to just go wrong for Lucifer.”

“Then you don’t know Lucifer. Remember the whole fall from heaven thing? He’s had things going wrong right from the start.”

And, again, that made me feel no better. I liked the idea that at least Lucifer had his business figured out. The thought that he was as powerless and fumbling as the rest of us gave me a moment of thinking, If he can’t get shit right, what chance do I have?

I sighed and crossed my legs, leaning forward. Great. We were stuck in hell, had no idea why I was where I there and now even the guy who ran it all didn’t seem to have a good grip on specifics.

The only person happy about our circumstances was Hunter, who grinned as though he couldn’t have planned things any better.

Then again, it was his home.

Grant was still outside, setting wards so we could get a good night’s sleep, or at least the best one could expect in a cave in hell.

Not that there seemed to be any night. It reminded me of the pocket realm I’d met the fae in, except it didn’t get lighter or darker. It remained a constant depressing level of dim, which ranked around the super overcast and rainy level.

When Troy finished cooking the food, he tore free a piece and held it out for me. Instead of thinking too much about it—I was really hungry—I popped it into my mouth, surprised to find it rather good.

As long as I don’t consider what it might have been before being spit roasted or how many legs it might have had.

“Do you think he’ll try to kill me?” I asked.

“I doubt it,” Hunter said. “If he wanted to kill you, he could have done it without this much work. Lucifer doesn’t do anything without a reason. He calls it efficient—I call it lazy.”

“Maybe he just wants to be able to watch me die in person,” I muttered around another bite of food.

“We won’t let him hurt you,” Kase said.

I gave him a withering glare in return. I didn’t get over betrayal so easily. We might have been in an entirely different realm, but I wasn’t ready to forgive him for lying to me, for hiring Grant to figure out what I was, for manipulating me. Maybe his words would have reassured me if I didn’t already doubt his loyalty so much.

He looked as though he wanted to discuss the matter, but a glance around the cave reminded him we had an audience. Kase’s ego would never want to air dirty laundry with others in earshot.

The perfect Kase didn’t want to not look so perfect.

“You know, you all don’t have to be here.” I forced the words out even though I really didn’t want to say them. Still, it was only fair to give them an out.

“What?” Grant asked as he came into the cave.

“Well, you can make portals to and from hell, right? You might have gotten sucked in here on accident, but you don’t have to stay.”

“Actually, we do,” he said.

“Don’t give me that. There’s no reason for you all to risk your lives just because I evidently have an appointment with the devil.”

Hunter shook his head, a smirk across his lips. “No, shadow-girl, what he means is that when Lucifer yanked us here, it placed a tracer on us. All of us. None of us can portal back until Lucifer removes it. The magic just won’t work for a portal. I could cross the boundary, but I couldn’t take anyone with me.”

I blew out a breath, ashamed to admit just how relieved I was by that. Sure, I had to give them an out, but the thought of them leaving, of trying to make my way across hell by myself hadn’t been one I relished. They were stuck with me for now, and it was far more reassuring than I wanted to admit.

“How long until we reach Lucifer’s Court?” I asked, trying to change topics.

Hunter plucked a piece of meat from the creature and ate it with noisy bites. “Three days? Maybe five if we need a lot of stops. We ended up right at the boundary line, so it’s a long walk. If it were just me, I’d make it in a day, but you all couldn’t keep up.”

Troy snorted. “Maybe not them, but I’m quicker than you think.”

Hunter offered Troy a wide grin. “Yeah, but you’d keep up—maybe—if you were in your wolf form. Sadly, you’ve got some performance issues about that one, and on two legs you’re as slow as the mortal.”

Troy narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond.

Fine by me. Honestly, I’d love for them all to shut up.

It was bad enough they bothered me at my house, when they stopped by constantly and threw my life into chaos, but out here, I didn’t even have the privacy of a bathroom or the occasional moments of peace.

It was twenty-four-seven testosterone zone.

So I ate another piece of food before a yawn told me I needed rest.

The cave floor was hard and there wasn’t anything to use as a pillow around. I groaned and twisted, my shoulder sore from where it dug into the ground.

Troy had taken a spot far away, as though he wanted to avoid me as best he could—just like he’d done since I’d saved him.

The ungrateful bastard. Next time maybe I’d let that freaky shadow take him over.

After checking the wards, Grant had leaned himself against the doorway of the cave, his legs stretched out and his eyes closed. He’d picked there, at the threshold, like a guardian.

Funny, since Grant, with his twenty-year-old appearance, massive number of tattoos and rebel hair style, appeared the least dangerous.

Hunter had chosen to rest outside, like some dog in the yard. He’d taken a large hunk of the meat and claimed to like sleeping under the stars.

Not that there were any stars…

“Come here.” Kase’s voice was soft in the darkness, and close enough I jumped.

How he could move so quickly, I didn’t understand. He’d managed to shift around so he crouched just above where I lay.

I pressed my palm against the cave floor and pushed myself up. With the fire gone, I struggled to see Kase, so I glared in his direction best I could. “Sorry, but that doesn’t work.”

“What doesn’t work? You need sleep, and you won’t get any tossing and turning like that.”

“You think this is my first time dealing with men? Let me guess, I’ll sleep so much better all curled up beside you. And I’ll sleep better without any pants. In fact, a few orgasms will put me right out.” I made sure my voice sounded as insulting as I meant it to be.

Which was stupid, because no matter how much I disliked him at the moment, a few orgasms would help me sleep.

Just not from him. Not that he’d proven himself capable of delivering them anyway. His only attempt had been pathetic.

He sighed before sitting on the ground, his back to the wall. He removed his jacket and balled it up in his lap. “I’m not offering orgasms, Ava, and since my body doesn’t run warm, there isn’t a reason to curl up beside me, naked or not. However, I am, at the very least, useful as furniture.”

I wanted to argue that I was sleeping just fine, but the ache in my shoulder called me a liar. Still, the thought of touching him made me wonder how stupid one person could be.

His entire reaction to me was bad enough—I wasn’t sure I’d ever live down him spitting out my blood as if it were tainted—but the idea that he’d been lying to me was what really stuck.

He’d hired Grant to spy on me, to go behind my back and figure out what I was. He’d even said the entire thing had been for the coven, not him. How on earth could I just forget that?

Still, his lap was as good as anyone else’s, and I was tired. I slid up, wincing when it aggravated my shoulder.

He set a strong hand on my back, helping me to adjust, until I was on my side, my head pillowed on his lap, his jacket creating more cushion and a useful barrier between me and any erecting that might happen.

Not that that seemed a problem with him.

When he ran his fingers through my hair, I swatted him away. “Knock that off.”

He let out a soft sound, all annoyance. “I’m trying to help.”

“I didn’t ask for help, did I?”

“You haven’t ever asked, and yet here I’ve been, doing it anyway. I am in hell, literally, for you.”

I sighed, having nothing to say back to that. When I closed my eyes, he dragged his fingers through my hair again, and this time I let him. Just because I was mad at him didn’t mean I had to forgo the nice sensation, did it?

It wasn’t like he was getting anything out of it. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted. I doubted many nice things happened in hell.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, voice low as if we could have a private conversation in such a small space, surrounded by others. “I hired Grant before I knew much about you.”

“But even after you got to know me, you didn’t feel the need to mention it? To call him off?”

“I knew you wouldn’t be happy about me invading your privacy like that, and as I spent more time with you, I found out you hold grudges. It seemed a pointless argument to risk, since if you never found out, you would have never been angry.”

I shifted and accidently elbowed him in the crotch.

He let out a rush of air—it seemed not everywhere on a vampire was impervious to harm—before groaning. “I have learned my lesson, Ava. I do not intend to lie to you again.”

“And so I’m supposed to be okay with it? What was this all? What was it when you tried to feed from me? Just more research for the coven? At least that explains why you couldn’t keep it up.”

“No. It wasn’t ever for the coven.”

“That was what you told Grant.”

“Because I prefer not to expose potential weaknesses.”

“So I’m a weakness now?” I went to rise, because his lap was not worth me getting any more hurt than I already was.

He set a hand on my shoulder and pressed me back down, reminding me just how strong he was. “Stop it, Ava. Stop fighting with me long enough to listen. I have thought about you since I first saw you in that shop, and that obsession hasn’t ended. When I asked around and found out what little I could, it still wasn’t enough. So, yes, when given the chance, I hired Grant to discover more about you—not for the coven and not for Colter, but for myself. You can be angry with me for as long as you’d like for that invasion of privacy, for the lies, but do not mistake it for something it wasn’t. I hired you for the job with Olin because you could do it, I wanted to feed from you because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I want you because I have since I first saw you. Besides, you shouldn’t be so angry with me when Grant found nothing useful out.”

“Maybe that’s why he got kicked out of the guild, because he’s a terrible mage.”

A snort from the doorway said Grant was listening, but I pretended it was a random sound so I didn’t have to think about our audience.

Kase went back to the gentle stroking of his fingers through my hair, and, despite my better judgment, it relaxed me. His voice, smooth and unfailingly calm, was even worse. “He ran every test he could, did everything he knew and he could not identify what you were. No matter how much I researched, who I threatened, I discovered nothing. You are an enigma, Ava.”

“And that’s why you’re still around? Because I’m a very interesting puzzle, and you’re old and bored? Or because I could be potentially useful to you?”

“No. I don’t think I care what you are anymore. Originally, it was a mystery, but I’ve discovered you are trouble no matter what you might be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here now.”

“You’re smart enough to figure that one out. I’m not sure there are many reasons a man goes to hell for a woman.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Kase and I, we never talked. We didn’t admit anything. Where Troy liked to come out and say what he felt, and Hunter didn’t feel deeply enough for the need to have a conversation, Kase and I liked to exchange things in non-speak.

He didn’t say he cared, and I didn’t say I liked that he was there.

Even still…I couldn’t quite accept his words. I recalled Colter, remembered the coven house, and knew I had no idea where his loyalties really lay.

He might be a great piece of furniture, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t kill me if he needed to…

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About the Author

Jayce Carter

Jayce Carter lives in Southern California with her husband and two spawns. She originally wanted to take over the world but realized that would require wearing pants. This led her to choosing writing, a completely pants-free occupation. She has a fear of heights yet rock climbs for fun and enjoys making up excuses for not going out and socializing. You can learn more about her at her website.

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Jayce Carter’s Hell Raising and Other Pastimes Giveaway

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New Release Blitz ~ The Ghost Hunter and Her Guy by Larissa Vine (Excerpt & Giveaway)

The Ghost Hunter and her Guy by Larissa Vine

Book 4 in the Women on Top series

Word Count: 39,346
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 161

GENRES:

COMEDY AND HUMOUR
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
PARANORMAL

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Book Description

A love so strong, it’s supernatural.

When medium Jolene Gray is offered a lucrative contract as a psychic on a television show, she jumps at the chance. The money will pay for her spiritualist meetings that help connect people with their departed loved ones…and she’ll get to work with smoking-hot TV director Red MacFarlene. Jolene’s life is woefully lacking in romance. It’s hard to have a boyfriend with her spirit guide, Iris, always in her head.

This is Red McFarlene’s golden ticket, an opportunity to direct an episode of the phenomenally popular TV series Canada’s Most Haunted. By doing this, Red hopes to launch a new career directing movies like his sickeningly perfect brother. Bonus—the show’s ghost hunter is the gorgeous and gifted Jolene.

As filming starts on a famously haunted farm, a place steeped in tragedy with a history of vengeful ghosts, Jolene senses that the spirits want something, but her guide is blocking them from her, and she’s also sidetracked by her steamy romance with Red.

The ghost activity increases, though, and soon it’s not just the TV show that’s at stake. To face the specters and protect Red from dangerous paranormal forces, Jolene must ignore the voice in her head, and listen to her heart…before it’s too late.

Reader advisory: This book contains references to death and violence.

Excerpt

Jolene raced up the steps of the Mountain View Evangelical Baptist church and into the entrance area, dodging a few of the latecomers. She approached Eion, the head of the British Columbia Spiritualists’ Society, sitting at a trestle table with the collection box. He looked like he was on safari in a white linen suit. His gray cravat matched his steely hair.

He shot Jolene a pointed stare. “You’re nearly late.”

“I’m sorry. It’s the buses,” she panted. “How is it in there tonight?” She jerked her head toward the hall.

“We’ve got a full house as always,” Eion said. “I thought the heat would deter them, but it hasn’t.” He rattled the collection tin at an approaching couple then switched his attention back to Jolene.

“Go wait in the wings,” he said to her.

She hurried past him along the corridor into the room at the back, where she took off her purse then wound the strap around a metal hanger on the coat rail. She ducked into the tiny washroom. At once, Iris, Jolene’s spirit guide, started up in Jolene’s head. “Where’s your comb, lovie? Please tell me that you brought your comb. A pretty girl like you can’t be seen like this.”

Jolene rolled her eyes at Iris then checked her reflection in the mirror. It was true. People had often said that she was pretty with her big mouth, streaky blonde hair and slanting eyes. But Iris was right. At the moment, she did look a mess. Her hair hung in sweaty strands around her face.

She combed it with her fingers then hurried to the side of the stage and peered out from the wings. Her throat tightened. The hall was full like Eion had said. All the two hundred and fifty folding metal seats were occupied, and some people stood around the sides.

She and Eion had been running this meeting every Wednesday for the past two years. It had taken them a while to find a venue. All the nearby community centers had been booked and most of the churches that they’d approached hadn’t wanted to host her show. Some people viewed what she did as close to witchcraft. But then Eion had discovered this place and so every Wednesday, once Jolene had finished her shift at the hospital, she would change out of her scrubs and jump onto the bus. At first, the meetings had been small, but word had spread and, week by week, the numbers had grown.

A ripple of applause rang out from the crowd. Jolene realized that Eion had stepped onto the stage from the other side of the wings. He stopped in the center by a table and chair that had been set up for her. A microphone rested on a stand, set to chair height.

“Welcome, everyone,” he began.

There was a squeal of feedback, and Jolene flinched.

“My name is Eion Hughes”—Eion soldiered on—“and I run the Spiritualists’ Society of British Columbia. Now, I’m sure you don’t need me to introduce our guest. The waiting is over, ladies and gentlemen. Here’s the lady who’s brought so much comfort to many people…Jolene.”

The clapping grew louder. Jolene’s heart quickened.

Eion climbed down the steps to the front of the hall and fetched the roving mic. Drawing a breath, Jolene walked onto the stage. She stopped in the middle and stared out at the sea of faces. As she sat down on the chair, a hush fell over the audience. Jolene felt their anticipation in her chest. She knew that some people had traveled for hours to see her and that some showed up week after week, desperate for a message that never came. What if there aren’t any voices?

“It’s okay, lovie,” Iris said. “Calm yourself. The spirit world will look after you.”

Jolene licked her dry lips then spoke into the mic.

“Hello.” Her voice was shaky. “First, I need you to know that this doesn’t always work. Sometimes those in the spirit world don’t want to talk, and I can’t make them. You have to encourage them. This will only happen if you join in. And it’s done through love. You’ve got to open your hearts and let the love flow. Okay, so let’s see what I have here.”

A clamor of spirit voices sprang up in her head. Jolene smiled. Everyone spirit-side wanted to have their say. There was going to be no problem tonight. But they were all speaking at once in an unintelligible jumble. Male and female voices overlapped and undercut each other.

“Relax,” Iris piped up. “Tell them you’ll get to all of them. Focus on the quiet man.”

Jolene slowed her breath and tried to shift through the din. A man was speaking. His voice was softer than the rest and she sensed that he’d just passed.

“It’s Todd.” His voice was faint. “I’ve got a message for Judith.”

Is there a Judith in the audience?” she called.

She looked around the hall. No one acknowledged her, and she felt a lurch of fear. People were going to start calling her a fake at any second. Then, two rows from the back, a hand went up.

“I’m Judith.” A woman in a headscarf got to her feet.

Eion walked to Judith’s row. He reached past several people and handed her the mic. She was in her forties and had a tight, pinched face.

“Wood. I’m getting something about wood,” Jolene continued. “Do you live in Woodland Road?”

“Woodland Way,” Judith said.

“That’s right.” Jolene nodded. “I’m not getting that,” she said to Todd. “Sorry, come closer to me, not to your mom. Todd wants you to know, Judith, that you mustn’t worry about the insurance money.”

A moan fell from Judith’s lips. “Then it’s all right?” she asked.

“It’ll be paid by the end of July,” Todd said.

Jolene relayed the message to Judith who sat, smiling.

“Okay.” Jolene cleared her throat. “Now I’ve got a man coming in. I think he said his name was Craig. Does anyone recognize someone called Craig? Wait a minute. It’s Shirley he’s looking for. Shirley Black.”

A woman near the front row raised her hand.

“Can you stand up, please?” Jolene said.

The woman stood up. “My name’s Shirley, but it’s not Black.”

“And do you have a son called Craig?” Jolene asked. “He’s sixteen, right?”

Shirley’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded.

“He said he saw John recently and that you were talking about him.”

Shirley gasped.

“Sorry,” Jolene said. “I can’t hear him anymore.” The jangle of other voices had become too loud.

Tell her to wait,” Iris said. “I’ll get him back.” Jolene imagined Iris elbowing her way through the rabble, maybe jabbing people with her knitting needles, then dragging Craig to the front. Suddenly, Craig was talking again.

“How did you pass, Craig?” Jolene asked Craig aloud.

Shirley gave a shuddering sigh into the mic.

“You’ve got some of his hair in a locket, haven’t you?” Jolene said to Shirley, who nodded.

“And how did you pass, Craig?” Jolene repeated. “He said he had cancer.”

Shirley gave a tiny nod. Jolene sensed that it was taking all her self-control to not break down.

“He says you’re going on a holiday, aren’t you?” Jolene said.

“I don’t know,” Shirley replied.

“He says ‘Wherever you go, I’ll go with you’,” Jolene said.

Shirley started to cry and laugh at the same time.

The session continued with Jolene and Iris working as a team. Iris cajoled the quieter spirits and reprimanded the bossy ones, and Jolene passed on the messages to the audience.

An hour later, Jolene left the stage to a rousing storm of applause. She headed to the room at the back and collapsed onto the bench. She felt drained and her stomach hurt. When she channeled the spirits, they used up the energy from her solar plexus. Iris, who Jolene guessed was exhausted too, stayed silent.

Eion appeared with two mugs of tea, one of which he pressed into Jolene’s hands. She took a sip and made a face. It was so sweet. She could have stood a spoon up in all the sugar.

“Did you hear about April?” Eion asked, sitting.

Jolene shook her head. April was also a medium at the Spiritualists’ Society.

“Last Tuesday, she was sent to a house,” Eion said. “The owner was having incredible trouble with a spirit. So April went to calm the spirit and do you know what happened?”

“What?”

“The spirit followed her home. I mean, honestly. She should have known what to do.”

“What’s that?” Jolene asked. Her mind was still on the meeting, and she was only half interested.

Eion blew on the steam from his mug. “If you look around a spirit’s place, they sometimes feel that they have the right to visit your place too. Before she left, she should have said to the spirit, ‘Go away. Don’t follow me.’”

“And that would have been enough?”

“It works like a charm. Did you see we were past capacity tonight?”

“Wasn’t it great?”

“We were over the fire regulation limit,” Eion said. “If it gets like that again, I’ll have to close the doors early.”

“What?” Jolene stared at him in horror. “But you can’t turn people away. You just can’t. Did you see how happy that woman was when she heard from her son? We’ll have to find a bigger hall.”

“I’ve tried and there aren’t any. I spoke to the priest here, and he said that this church is also free on Monday nights. Maybe you could run two meetings a week.”

“I can’t cut another shift. I have to make the rent.”

“You should never worry about money,” Eion said briskly. “The spirit world will always provide.”

It was easy for him to say, Jolene thought, with his waterfront house in West Vancouver and his comfortable cushion of retirement savings.

They drank their tea. Sometime later, when Jolene’s strength had returned, she said goodbye to Eion and left the church. As she walked down the steps, the sun was sinking low in the rose-colored sky. It was a gorgeous summer evening and the whole of Vancouver seemed to be on heat. She passed a couple who were making out at a bus stop. The man’s hand was high up inside the woman’s top. They seemed so in love—or was it lust?—that Jolene’s heart twisted. She wished that she had someone to share her life with, but it was tricky when she had Iris.

Iris had appeared on Jolene’s eleventh birthday and had announced that she would be Jolene’s spirit guide. Even after all these years, Jolene still knew little about her, which was surprising considering that she never shut up. Jolene had learned that Iris came from a fishing village in the West Country of England and that she’d lived in the Victorian era and had passed from tuberculosis when she was eighty-two. She’d spent her time baking scones and knitting while her husband Fred had been catching cod at sea.

Jolene imagined Iris to be stout from all the baking and with well-defined jaw muscles from talking too much. She pictured her in an ankle-length dress and an apron with her gray hair pinned, primly, on top of her head.

All of Jolene’s medium friends had spirit guides too, but theirs were a lot cooler and considerably more chilled. Juanita had Romanov, a Russian dissident. Sophia had a philosopher. Although Jolene loved Iris, she wished that she wouldn’t interfere quite so much. It was hard to get anything done—let alone have a romance—with a chatterbox grandmother living inside her head.

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About the Author

Larissa Vine

British-born Larissa Vine spent way too long traveling before settling in Vancouver, Canada. Now she lives close to the ocean and the mountains with her ever-patient family and her army of cats. Larissa tries to write what she loves to read – books which are tender, cheeky, even dirty sometimes. Books which are, above all…fun!

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New Release Blitz ~ Leading the Blind by BA Tortuga (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Leading The Blind by BA Tortuga

Book 7 in the Roughstock series

Word Count: 53,445
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 230

GENRES:

 ACTION AND ADVENTURE
CONTEMPORARY
COWBOYS AND WESTERN
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

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Book Description

You don’t need the use of your eyes to see forever.

After his head injury leaves him blind, professional bull rider Jason Scott can only think of one thing. He desperately needs to win the title in the big leagues of bull riding so he can retire and start a new life—one he can live with his best friend and lover, Andy Baxter.

Andy—or Bax, as his friends call him—wants to keep Jason safe and alive, but he would never ask his man to be less than he is. With the help of their best friends, they start out on a path that will lead them back to the major events and to a deception that might lose them all their jobs.

There’s no way the league officials would let Jason ride if they knew he was blind, so Jason and Bax have to figure out how to get Jason back to the top of the leaderboard without any kind of advantage or cheating being called. Meanwhile, they have to figure out what their new life is going to look like and what they’ll be if they’re not bull riders any longer.

Will they get what they want? Or will the whole thing just be a case of the blind leading the blind?

Reader advisory: This book contains some bull riding-related injuries. There is a brief homophobic slur from a secondary character.

Excerpt

“Jesus fucking Christ! Open your goddamn eyes next time! That bull damn near rang your bell.” Bax shook his arm, and Jason swore that made the world swim before his useless fucking eyes again.

“Andy Baxter, you’d best back the fuck off. This ain’t the time.” He’d know Coke’s voice anywhere, the bullfighter as much a part of his family as anyone ever had been.

“Gramps, don’t.” Jason Scott leaned against the stall, breathing hard. The last thing he needed was Pa and Ma MacGillicuddy freaking out because he’d lost his cookies at a bull riding. Bull riding fans were a specific breed, and it didn’t matter one bit whether it was the big show or a tiny two-gate sheriff’s posse arena. They all talked.

“Well, someone has to,” Coke ground out. “He’s being an ass.”

“He needs to keep his eyes open.” But Bax lowered his voice, thank God.

“I know. I got dirt in ‘em. It’s not like I can wipe them, Bax.”

“For eight seconds, you can suck it up.”

“Right. ‘Cause you were always fucking perfect.”

Bax grabbed his shirtfront and shook him. “Every. Fucking. Ride.”

“Stop it,” Coke snapped, and they stopped. Gramps rarely spoke in that tone. When he did, well, they listened. “Y’all are being buttheads and I don’t need this shit, you comprende? Folks got phones.”

“Sorry,” Bax murmured, which made Jason snort.

“Don’t tease the bull, son. Tell Andy you’re sorry.”

Jason blew out a hard breath. “You know I am, butthead.”

“Good boys. Come on now. We got to get out of the public.” Coke tugged at his arm. Hell, Coke had to get back to work.

“Right. I’m going to get out of here, Gramps. I sure as shit ain’t making the short go.”

“Okay, son.” Coke clapped him on the back. “Be good.”

Bax laughed. “Right. He’ll be trying to drive off in the truck soon.”

“I’d do better than some.” His head was starting to pound like there was a damn mariachi band in there, playing away.

“You did okay last time,” Bax agreed, taking his arm and leading him out of the arena. “Until you didn’t.”

“Story of my life.” He rode like a champion, until he didn’t. He could see, until he couldn’t. He had a whole life, until it was over. Now? He was fixin’ to try and take some of it back.

“Hey, I just want you to be safe.”

“I know. I just want you to not have to babysit my ass forever.”

“I’m not your babysitter.” Bax lowered his voice. “I’m yours, and we’re in this together, Mini.”

Jason felt his fucking shoulders come down from around his ears. Okay. Yeah. ‘Together’ he could get behind. A burden? No, that he couldn’t do. “Right. Sorry. You want a beer?” An aspirin? Something to stop this pounding?

“Sure. Sounds good.” Bax led him out of the arena, the dirt changing to concrete.

He tried to make sure his face was thunderous, keeping anyone away who might want to talk. He was getting better at that part—the talking to fans—but not much. Right now he thought he might die if someone stopped them. Bax kept him moving fast, and soon enough he was in the cab of their truck, the sudden quiet shocking his senses.

“I’m taking you to the travel trailer, okay?” Bax sounded either pissed or scared. He wasn’t sure which.

“Okay.” Jason didn’t want to fight no more, so he folded his hands and sat quiet as a mouse.

They didn’t play music, they just drove, and when they got to the gravel road, Jason knew they were at the weird little campground.

The truck rocked a bit when Bax hit the brakes. The engine cut off, and they sat there.

“You okay?” Bax finally asked.

“My head hurts some,” he admitted. “I need some time to not worry about shit.”

“Well, come on. We’ll get you some pills and watch a movie.”

Listen to a movie, more like, but whatever. “Works for me.”

“You sure? I could put on one of those audiobooks.”

“I just want to be somewhere I”—can see—“know.”

“It’s cool and quiet in there.” Bax climbed out of the truck, then came around to help him out.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Bax.”

“What for, Mini?” They stepped up into the trailer, the smell oddly homey inside.

“Being blind?” Having you take care of me when all I want in all the world is to take care of you.

“Well, that’s stupid. Ain’t like you asked to be blind.”

“No.” No, not a bit. “Good thing we cleared that up.”

“You know it.” Bax snorted loud, then guided him to sit back on the bed thingy. “Let me get us a cold drink, then we can kinda float.”

“Thanks. I’ll get the next one.” He toed his boots off and stripped out of his sponsor shirt and his baggy, filthy work jeans.

“No problem.” Bax opened a couple of bottles, the bottle cap sound unmistakable.

He took the bottle when Bax offered it and drank deep, the lemon-lime bubbles suiting him to the bone.

“Mmm. It was dry as dirt out there, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, and I’m pretty sure my mouth was open when I hit the ground.” His molars were a little gritty.

“Ew. No cow shit, Mini.”

Jason snorted, tickled shitless. “No. Although God knows how much we’ve eaten accidentally over the years.”

“Stop.” Bax pinched his hip. “That’s nasty.”

“No pinching!” He rolled toward Bax, trying not to spill his drink. “You’re such a wuss.”

“I am not. I swim with you at your momma’s place. There’s snake poop in there.” Bax had a point there. Jason wasn’t real sure what the point was, but Bax had one.

“I don’t even want to think about what all is in that pond, Bax.”

“Nope.”

They kinda…lounged. Just sat there and breathed like great big lazy gators. He laughed a little at that. Gators did okay blind, according to Beau Lafitte.

“What’s funny, Mini?”

“Alligators.”

“That ain’t funny. That’s a lot of teeth.”

“You’re just grumpy. Most days they’re funny.”

“Kinda, yeah.” Bax took his hand. “Sorry I yelled, Mini.”

“I’m trying. I swear to God. I’m trying hard to do this.” And God knew there were more than a few days when he just wanted to give up, to go home to Momma’s and admit defeat. Shit fire and save matches, what the fuck was he thinking, riding blind? He’d got his bell rung when he could see.

“I know. I know it.” Bax sighed. “I want— Shit, Mini, I want you to be happy, and you’re not.”

“I don’t want to ride the little events forever. I don’t want to be a has-been.” He didn’t want to be a burden.

“You’re not. You’re doing amazing.”

Now, Bax wasn’t one to blow smoke up anyone’s ass, so the words perked him up a little bit.

“You think so? I feel like a fuck-up.”

“That’s because we’re all always telling you what to do.”

He traced Bax’s fingers, one after another. Lord have mercy, those calluses felt like heaven when they touched him. The fact that they’d never touched him when he couldn’t see wasn’t lost on him. Bax had saved him. Completely. Fucker.

“You’re pouring smoke, Jason. Out of your brain.” Bax chuckled. “Thinkin’ ain’t what we do best.”

“Fuck no. We do stupid shit and drink beer.” It was the cowboy way, after all.

“See? I knew it.” Bax rolled to kiss his cheek.

“Knew what?” He could meet Bax halfway.

“That we’re better not thinking.” Bax laughed, poking his ribs.

He chuckled. “No shit on that, man.”

“Mmm.” Bax settled in right against his hip. “I got you, Jason. You just scared me, is all.”

“Scared me too. I hate being this way.”

“I know.” Those fingers moved over him, Bax stroking his belly.

Goosepimples climbed up his skin, heading from hips to nipples. “Mmm. I don’t hate this, though.”

“No, sir. I love this. Holding you. Touching you.”

“Good deal.”

Bax was breathing, steady and sure, and the rhythm liked to hypnotized him. “That is a good deal,” Bax agreed.

“We are. I mean, this is. Us. Christ.”

“It is what it is.” That was right down Zen of Bax.

He nodded and let his eyes close. It was the only way he could see colors. Sometimes he thought he could see Bax. Sometimes he knew he could.

“You’re smiling.” Bax rewarded him with a kiss.

He didn’t say why, and it didn’t matter. Nothing he did would change his world. No sense getting Bax’s hopes up.

Together, they’d get through today. Tomorrow too.

The day after that would just have to take care of itself.

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About the Author

BA Tortuga

Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy’s Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds and her beloved wife, texting her buddies, and eating Mexican food. When she’s not doing that, she’s writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA’s personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot, her best friends, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.

Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the  high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.

You can check out BA’s website and blog, and follow her on Pinterest and Instagram.

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