Feb 09

New Release Blitz ~ An Invitation by Jasmine Hill (Excerpt & Giveaway)

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An Invitation
Jasmine Hill

General Release Date: 9th February 2021

Heat Rating: Burning

Sexometer: 2
Word Count: 41,500
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 170
Genres: CONTEMPORARY, EROTIC ROMANCE, PARANORMAL, THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE, VALENTINES

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Book Description

Accept it if you dare…

Twenty-four-year-old personal trainer Bree Lewis has no time for love, so a mysterious invitation to a Valentine’s Weekend Gala has her intrigued. It seems crazy to accept, but perhaps she’ll meet a hot guy there who’ll be the distraction she desperately needs…even if the gala is taking place at a strange mansion in a secret location.

For weeks Vincent has been watching over Bree from the shadows, keeping her safe until the moment is right to make himself known to her. But when he sees Bree’s name on the Gala invitation list, he has no choice but to attend the event.

When Bree and Vincent meet, their attraction burns until the very air around them ignites. But things aren’t what they seem at the mansion and, shockingly, even Vincent is harboring a deadly secret. And when the guests start disappearing, it’s clear that something is very wrong.

Bree and Vincent are tested to their limits in their fight to escape the mansion and the deadly dangers that lurk there. It seems there’s no hope for the couple…unless Vincent is prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, death and gore.

Excerpt

Bree fingered the invitation. Thick card, heavy. Expensive. Gold, embossed print and gold love hearts in elegant filigree bordering the scalloped edge. A date, time and a title for the event, the Valentine’s Weekend Gala. She flipped it over, but the back offered no more information than the front, only an image of Cupid, bow and arrow raised, an impish grin on his cherubic face. No sender details or address or even a request for an RSVP. Just the date and time that she would be picked up and conveyed…somewhere. She studied the accompanying envelope, but there were no postmarks or postdates, nothing to indicate whence it came. Just her name in elegant script—Ms. Bree Regina Lewis.

She tapped a nail on the invitation, fascination taking hold. It was madness to consider going—she couldn’t even tell anyone where she’d be. But the intrigue and mystery were a heady attraction. With yet another Valentine’s Day looming bleak and unpromising, perhaps this event was just what she needed. And did the Cupid image mean something? Was it the promise of some kind of romance? But, really, who could be behind such an invite? The host must be a bored and eccentric millionaire with too much time and money on his hands.

The training schedule she’d been working on forgotten, she sat back in her chair and stared out of her office window. She could take a friend, but the invitation didn’t specify ‘plus one’. That should raise a red flag, but she wouldn’t let a small detail like that stop her, reckless as she was by nature.

Valentine’s Day fell on a Saturday and she’d be picked up on the Friday, presumably for the gala the following evening. Friday the thirteenth… The day and date were considered unlucky and the movies by the same name definitely didn’t leave her with a warm, fuzzy feeling. But she wasn’t superstitious and the host hardly had a choice in the matter of dates if it was to be a Valentine’s weekend. It was obviously just a coincidence and nothing nefarious—really, a gift that she was lucky to be included in. And she had two weeks to plan her wardrobe.

According to the limited information provided, the Valentine’s Weekend Gala would start on the evening of the thirteenth and progress through to the afternoon of the fifteenth of February. Bree had no way of knowing if different attire was required for different events, so she’d just have to pack taking all considerations into account. And, of course, an evening gown would surely be required for the Saturday night Valentine Gala that must be taking place. She’d never been to a ball, so she’d need a dress for the occasion.

She logged into her online banking to check her account balance. The number of zeros was not promising, particularly when she took rent, food and bill payments into consideration. Her credit card balance looked more encouraging. She hadn’t been putting much on credit, purely because her personal life had been unexciting of late, to say the least. If she worked additional shifts she could easily pay for a new dress and shoes and some extras. It was worth it, to add some spice to her life.

She switched over to the gym training roster she’d been working on and typed her name into the vacant slots. Instructing boxing classes and early morning boot camps meant that she would have some early starts and later evenings. At least the Australian summer kept the days warm and sunny and enjoyable for any outdoor activity. Her personal training schedule could also bring in more income for one-on-one training. She input her name next to the clients who’d requested personal sessions. Normally she’d take about three to four per week, but for the next two weeks she ensured that she’d take two sessions a day. She’d have very little free time, but the extra money would be worth it.

She grabbed her mobile and selected her best friend’s contact. “Nell, tell me you don’t have anything going on this Saturday!”

“Hello to you too.” Nell laughed. “As it happens, I only have some laundry and housework to look forward to and I’ll do anything to put that off. What do you have in mind? Tell me it’s more interesting than my current plans. Please!”

“Are you up for a shopping trip?”

“That depends. You’re not shopping for white goods, are you? If you need a new fridge, I think I’ll pass.”

Bree giggled. “No, I need a new dress—an evening dress—and I want your opinion.”

“Where are you going? Is the invite for two?”

Bree paused. How was she going to tell her best friend about the mysterious invitation? Nell would most certainly demand to go with her once she knew the details—or lack of.

“It’s a work thing,” Bree lied. “The gym’s putting on an event for our clients.”

She felt a pang of guilt about lying to her friend, but she reasoned it was for the best. Nell would just worry, and she knew her friend well enough to know that she wouldn’t let the issue go without a myriad of questions that Bree couldn’t answer. Nell was cautious and practical while Bree was bold and impulsive. They were yin and yang and always joked that it was their opposite characters that made them work as best friends.

Nell’s sigh reached her across the connection. “Fine. You go to your work thing and I’ll help you shop for it. Perhaps you’ll meet some hot gym junkie. Then you can stop focusing on that phantom man you keep dreaming about.”

Bree started when her friend mentioned the exact thing that had been in the back of her mind. Bree too hoped she’d meet someone who could dispel the man of her dreams. She cleared her throat. “Great. I’m taking training sessions until midday on Saturday. How about I pick you up at twelve-thirty? We can have lunch then shop afterwards.”

“Sounds good. See you then, girlfriend,” Nell sang before hanging up.

Bree smiled at her friend’s uncanny knack of seeming to read her mind. Bree had told Nell about her dreams and about the man who featured in them constantly. A man whom she’d never met. She couldn’t even liken him to anyone. He was an enigma. A handsome, spellbinding enigma who preoccupied her sleep. It was getting to the point where she found herself comparing all the men she met to the man of her dreams. It was strange how his scent would stay with her for hours after she awoke, a masculine spice like no other that stimulated her senses to a distracting level. It was troublesome and irritating and she hoped fervently that this mysterious Valentine’s Day Weekend would throw a physical, flesh-and-blood male into her path.

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About the Author

Jasmine Hill

Jasmine was born in Australia and grew up in Sydney. She currently lives in Madrid, Spain with her husband.

She adores reading all genres but in particular she enjoys erotic romance novels and thrillers.

Jasmine loves writing and is always looking for new ideas for stories that will provoke inner passions, stimulate the senses and ignite the imagination.

Her interests include cooking, traveling, yoga and skiing.

She has won some short story competitions and is now excited to have started publishing her erotic romance stories through Totally Bound Publishing.

Follow Jasmine on Facebook an Twitter.

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Jasmine Hill’s An Invitation Giveaway

JASMINE HILL IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A LOVELY GIFT PACKAGE AND GRAB YOUR FREE JASMINE HILL ROMANCE BOOK! Notice: This competition ends on 23rd February 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

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Feb 08

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

Filed under Book Blitz, Giveaways

Title: Birthday Presents

Author: Dianne Hartsock

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/08/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 47500

Genre: Horror/Thriller, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, suspense, crime, serial killer, law enforcement, kidnapping

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Description

Crimson loves to dance. He adores watching the pretty boys grind to the frantic beat of the music and picking out his lover for the evening. But more than that, he lives for his birthday, that one day a year he gives into his darker impulses: choosing a young man to lure into the alleyway with promises of sex, then slitting his throat in the midst of their passion and reveling in the hot blood on his hands.

For Tracey Winston, life has become a nightmare. Kidnapped from a nightclub in Boulder, Colorado, brutalized and raped by Crimson, he’s held captive in a cabin in the Rocky Mountains along with sweet Kyle, a young man Crimson keeps chained to his bed and is slowly torturing to death. Though Tracey manages to escape with Kyle’s help, he has to leave Kyle behind in Crimson’s cruel hands.

Detective Gene Mallory has never stopped looking for his brother Kyle, kidnapped from a nightclub seven months previously. The case breaks open when Tracey Winston comes forth at the urging of his new boyfriend, claiming to have knowledge of where Crimson is hiding out. A manhunt begins with Crimson continuously slipping through their net. Lives are on the line, with both Gene and Tracey being targeted by the killer. A traitor in their midst tips Crimson off to their plans.

Crimson’s birthday has come and gone, and he will kill again.

Excerpt

Birthday Presents
Dianne Hartsock © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Prologue
Excitement plucked at Crimson’s nerves, and he licked his lips, his blood surging to the merciless drumbeat. He rolled his hips to the music, an old White Zombie album, the static only adding to the nostalgia. Raising his arms, he pictured the hot body he’d grind against at the club that night, young, slim, rounded ass snug against him. Maybe he’d get his hands under his shirt, a finger in the guy’s pants stroking the wet tip of his cock.

He imagined the breathy moans in the dark alley afterward. The scared whimpers, screams muffled by Crimson’s hand clamped over the gorgeous lips he’d ravaged of their sweetness moments before. He felt the hard knife in his hand and shuddered, envisioning the hot blood pumping over his skin when he slit the vulnerable throat. Fuck, he loved his birthday!

Tossing the comb he’d run over his long hair onto the cluttered vanity, he then trailed fine-boned fingers over his chest and flat stomach. Pert nipples ached to be teased. A secret smile slid over his black-painted lips as he cupped the bulge in his tight jeans. What boy could resist this?

After adding a black tee shirt, he searched the dark eyes in the mirror, pursed his lips. Gloss? Definitely. He knew a certain bouncer at the club who was susceptible to Cherry Kiss. Well, that and Crimson’s mouth on his dick.

He narrowed his lids at the crescent moon scar under his left eye, temper flaring through him. Though healed, the skin was still an angry red. That bitch Tracey…

Crimson willed his hands to unclench. Nothing that a little concealer couldn’t make disappear. A thump sounded on the wall, and a frown marred the perfect features in the mirror. Kyle knew better than to disturb him while he was dressing. His face softened. Kyle. His little gem. How long had they been together? Six months?

The eyes in his reflection widened. That would make Kyle twenty. He’d forgotten they shared a birthday.

“Crimson’s coming, angel,” he murmured and grinned viciously at the name, blood and pain and death. He’d used other aliases in the past, but this was by far his favorite.

With a last glance in the mirror, he left the room and crossed the hall, tapping on Kyle’s door before entering. Kyle lay in the middle of the bed, his pale skin decadent against the red silk sheets. His darling looked lonely. Of course he did, with Tracey’s side of the bed empty. How many times had he stood at the foot of the bed to watch them play together? Or join in, lost in the haze of sweat-slicked skin and hard cocks, lips and tongues and roving fingers, pain and ecstasy.

But yesterday Tracey had left them as if their time together meant nothing, betraying Crimson’s trust. He drew several deep breaths, letting the anger roll through him, then out in an exhale. Tracey was dead to him.

“Did you need me, sweetheart?” he asked as he lay down and gathered Kyle in his arms. His skin felt dry, soft, tight over a sparse skeleton. Crimson could break his bones if he held too tightly.

Kyle’s enormous light blue eyes swam with tears, bright with desperation. So lovely. “You’re leaving again?” he whispered, timid.

“We’ve discussed this. I always go out on my birthday.”

“But if something happens to you…”

“I suppose you’ll die of starvation. No, thirst.” Crimson laughed at the shiver that swept the emaciated body. “Nothing will happen to me. Promise.”

Crimson picked up Kyle’s shackled hand with its long chain bolted to the floor and kissed the palm. He stroked Kyle’s limp cock and watched with satisfaction as it thickened under his touch. “Would you like me to fuck you tonight?”

Kyle nodded, despair in his eyes. Crimson kissed his sweet lips, his heart moved. Kyle had been a wild thing during their first months together. Running his hands over the thin chest, he regretted the scars he’d had to put on the pale flesh before Kyle had broken. He twisted a pale nipple and grew hard at the gasp and shudder from his lover.

He leaned up on an elbow. There was no reason he couldn’t stay and play with Kyle before he left. His cock ached with the thought. No. Denied lust would add a delicious edge to the evening. But still…

Leaning across Kyle to the bedside table, he fingered the silver nipple clamps. His baby loved those. The plug? No, he wanted Kyle nice and tight when he got home. Cursing the time, he gave Kyle a last passionate kiss. “I’ll be home soon.”

Kyle rolled against him, wrapping him in skinny arms. “Don’t go. Stay with me. I’m afraid when you go.”

“Hush, baby. You won’t even know I’m gone.” He kissed Kyle’s damp eyes and licked his tears.

Crimson reluctantly left the bed. Kyle’s pleas tempted him, but he had something to take care of before he could wring pain and pleasure from his lover’s body. He whistled on the way downstairs, pulling on thin black gloves. Grabbing up his keys from the hook by the door, he then stepped into the afternoon sunshine and drew a deep breath of the warm, pine-scented air. It was a twenty-minute drive into town, which left plenty of time for shopping and a meal before the clubs opened. Perfect.

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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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Feb 08

New Release Blitz: Business and the Beat by Kellum Jeffries (Excerpt & Giveaway)

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Title: Business and the Beat

Author: Kellum Jeffries

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/08/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 33800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, gay, pan, rock star/musician, family issues, band shenanigans, slime attacks

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Description

Rutherford Fitzhugh, shy, repressed financial advisor, is happy to stay in his professional and personal rut. But his world gets shaken up when his new boss insists the firm take on more exciting clients and assigns Rutherford to Mak, the brilliant bassist and chief songwriter for the mega-popular rock band, Memo to Myself.

Mak Makana, extroverted prankster goofball, hasn’t had a serious or lengthy relationship in years. He learned early on in his band’s meteoric rise to fame that a lover he’d fallen hard for was more interested in his fame than him.

The sparks between the two men are immediate and intense, despite their disastrous first meeting when Rutherford walks into a gooey prank Mak meant for a bandmate. Rutherford discovers that Mak isn’t the spoiled, shallow rock star he expected, and Mak finds that Rutherford has a hidden artistic and quirky side. They can’t keep their hands off each other—even as they work to convince themselves it’s just a fling.

Rutherford’s never been able to please his conservative, traditional Virginian parents—or get them to accept his sexuality—and the sudden paparazzi attention brings their disapproval on full force. Mak’s got a supportive family back home in Hawaii and another one in his bandmates, neither batting an eye at his pansexuality. But that early experience with a fame-collector makes him wary of opening up to anyone who’s not birth family or band family.

Mak and Rutherford’s very different lives threaten to pull them apart, but could it be they’re different enough to be perfect together?

Excerpt

Business and the Beat
Kellum Jeffries © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Rutherford’s morning started off with a reassuring sameness—same boiled eggs for breakfast, same dogwalk around his neighborhood, same quick skim of the Financial Times during his morning Lyft ride—and there was absolutely no warning that by noon he’d be flustered, turned on, and temporarily dyed blue.

He arrived at work his usual half hour early. It was calm and quiet then, and he had a few peaceful moments to sit with his first cup of tea of the day and start looking through his portfolio of clients, making sure he’d checked in with each of them recently enough to keep them well informed and happy. (This was a tricky balance; some clients were annoyed by frequent contact, some enraged by any lengthy absence of contact, and, of course, there were a few who would find something to be peeved about regardless.)

Rutherford wrote up a schedule of check-in calls to make and started looking through the first client’s current investments, checking on the returns and pondering the fact that said client had a child reaching college age soon. Would tweaking her portfolio in light of that be advantageous? And just when he was settling into deep thought, doodling flowers on his legal pad as his brain ticked over possibilities, Hurricane Jen blew into the office.

He winced—he liked Jen, somewhat reluctantly, but she was loud.

“Heeeeeeeeeey you!” she bellowed, and he sighed as his mental train of morning productivity not only derailed but fell spectacularly off a cliff, hit bottom, and caught fire.

“Hello, Jen.”

He’d wondered, the first few times she greeted him with a “Hey you,” if she was being intentionally rude to him since she seemed to remember everyone else’s name. But when he’d reintroduced himself after several weeks of this, she’d wrinkled her nose and said, “I swear I know your name, I’m sorry, I just— It just doesn’t seem like you! It’s so stuffy! Sorry, I don’t mean to insult your name, you probably love your name, and it’s certainly elegant and everything, and argh, I’m a dick.”

He’d blinked at her, astonished she thought his name too stuffy for him—he was well aware most people thought of him as, well, stuffy. (He was also astonished she felt comfortable blurting “I’m a dick” by way of apology, but the boss’s daughter had certain prerogatives.)

“I, uh, I don’t love my name,” he’d said. “‘Hey you’ is…rather nice.” And since then, he’d been oddly fond of her.

Today, though, in addition to completely ruining his concentration, she was making him nervous. She didn’t come into the office all that often; she was in charge of schmoozing prospective clients, which kept her on the road a good deal. When she did come in, it tended to be for all-hands-on-deck things: staff trainings and the like. Rutherford snuck a look at his online calendar, but he knew before he checked there was nothing like that today. So why was she here?

“What brings you here today?” he asked, but she added to his worry by grinning and making a lock-turning gesture in front of her lips, then striding off to her dad’s office.

“Oh god,” Rutherford murmured to his computer screen. There’d been rumors flying around lately about the old man’s retirement. Rutherford had tried to discount them, but…he wasn’t so sure now.

MacKenzie from the next office stuck her head in his doorway, pointed the way Jen had gone, and did some frantic gestures he assumed were mime for “what is happening?” He shrugged, and she frowned and popped back out again.

He slid down in his chair, put his hands over his face, and whispered, “I hate change” into the dark of his palms.

And sure enough, a few seconds later, an “Everyone to the meeting room” alert popped up on the office IM.

Rutherford grabbed a pad and pen and headed for the hallway; bad news was always a bit more palatable when he had some paper to cling to. He met MacKenzie on the way, leaned down, and murmured, “Two pencils,” in her ear.

“Crap, thanks,” she said and grabbed the pencils out of her short Afro. Sometimes by the end of the day, she had five or six.

They reached the meeting room and grabbed seats. And once everyone had filed in, Jen patted her dad’s shoulder and said, “Don’t leave ’em hanging,” and Rutherford barely managed not to groan aloud.

Mr. Wozniak stood up, said, “Yep, I’m retiring. Nope, we’re not letting anybody go. Yep, I am going to do a shitload of fly-fishing,” and sat down.

As bosses went, he’d always been admirably succinct.

The room was silent for a moment, awkwardly so—what did one say in response to that? And then Jen stood up and talked about how her father had founded the firm on the principles of emphasizing ethics, hiring the best people, and treating them very well. How their employee retention rate (“and our long tradition of not getting caught up in hideous scandals!”) proved these principles worked, and how she planned to continue on the same path.

Oh, good, it was going to be Jen. Rutherford had worried the firm would be sold. Jen, while noisy, was at least familiar and liked.

He’d begun to relax a little when Jen’s speech took a turn.

“While most of you will keep your same client load, I do plan to shake things up a bit. I’m planning to start pitching clients in the entertainment industry—we’ve got a longstanding industry halo for ethical business, let’s add a little buzz as well.”

That certainly got a buzz going in the room at least, but she held up a hand. “I’ll share details with those of y’all who are gonna be involved. Meanwhile, let’s start planning a massive retirement party.”

Rutherford tuned out for the rest of the talk, sketching tiny birds in the margins of his legal pad while he mulled over what this might mean for him. He had every intention of staying. Surely, his job wouldn’t change significantly since there was zero reason for Jen to drag him, of all people, into the new “entertainment industry” focus. However, someone his own age taking over the company would certainly send his parents into another “We can’t believe you’re happy with this career…plateau” rant.

He sighed and then startled, realizing only when Jen’s hand landed lightly on his shoulder that people were starting to clear out of the room.

“Hey, you,” she said, grinned, and patted his shoulder. “Let’s talk.”

Oh no.

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Meet the Author

Kellum Jeffries is a bisexual Southern librarian, lucky enough to have a supportive fellow-writer partner and a fabulous dog. She knits socks, gives excellent shoulder rubs, and can touch her nose with her tongue. She loves to write about all kinds of people finding themselves, finding love, and finding the nearest Waffle House.

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Feb 08

New Release Blitz: Sticks and Stones by Steve Burford (Excerpt & Giveaway)

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Title: Sticks and Stones

Series: Summerskill and Lyon, Book Three

Author: Steve Burford

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/08/2021

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 69600

Genre: Contemporary Police Procedural, LGBTQIA+, Contemporary, crime/thriller, family-drama, murder, drug dealer, school, politician

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Description

“He’s a thug… a really nasty piece of work.”

When young Clayton Kerry, member of a notorious Worcester family, is found dead on an abandoned factory site, it looks like an accident. Some even say it was what he deserved. But headteacher Alun Blake’s refusal to sugarcoat the truth about the pupil he excluded causes outrage in the local community and sparks a vendetta against him that rapidly spirals out of control threatening both his life and that of his daughter.

When Detective Inspector Summerskill and Detective Sergeant Lyon investigate, they find Clayton’s death was by no means as clear cut as it had seemed and that they are at the start of a trail that will take them into the heart of a school and far beyond the boundaries of their city, to crime on a national scale.

As they uncover what really happened, Summerskill and Lyon are brought face-to-face with uncomfortable truths about their own lives and relationships. Personal loyalties are tested, and before the case is through, at least one more person will die.

Sticks and Stones is the third in the Summerskill and Lyon series of police procedural novels.

Excerpt

Sticks and Stones
Steve Burford © 2021
All Rights Reserved

“And some sad news just in. A tragic accident today on the site of one of the county’s oldest landmarks has resulted in the death of a Worcestershire schoolboy. Fifteen-year-old Clayton Kerry was killed when one of the walls of a building on the site of the old William Fitzmaurice brewery collapsed.

“The Fitzmaurice brewery, once the producer of some of the county’s most prestigious beers and ciders, has been a familiar site on the banks of the River Severn for as long as anyone in the county can remember. For decades, however, it has been closed and deserted, its buildings neglected and crumbling. All attempts over the years to procure the site for redevelopment have been blocked by legal wranglings within the Fitzmaurice family.

“James Fitzmaurice, oldest surviving member of the brewing family, today said that he and his family were deeply saddened by the death but that they could take no responsibility.

“We’ll have more on that story in our local news bulletin later this evening. And now, over to Duncan Lewis with today’s weather…”

The picture on the screen changed to an earnest young weather forecaster in glasses, smiling in front of a map of the country even as a mass of CGI storm clouds crept in from the west.

“Tragic accident.” The man in the bed yawned, muted the television, and carelessly tossed the remote control to one side. “It was hardly going to be an amusing accident or a laughable misadventure, was it?”

Sitting on the other side of the bed, Dave Lyon paused in the act of pulling on his trousers. “And is that all you’ve got to say about it?”

The man he’d addressed gave one of his typical crooked smiles, laced his hands behind his head, and lay back against the large pillows. The sheets were pulled down low over his stomach, and Dave didn’t doubt that their position and the pose had both been deliberately chosen to afford him a good view of the body he was getting ready to leave. It was a great body. “What do you want me to say?” Sean Cullen asked. “That I’m heartbroken over the death of some kid I’ve never even met? Touch hypocritical don’t you think?”

“You’re an MP. I thought that was part of the job description.”

Cullen smiled again. Dave’s barb hadn’t pierced his thick politician’s skin at all. But then Dave hadn’t thought for a second it would. “And you’re a detective sergeant. Didn’t you detect anything about that report?”

“What do you mean? It was an accident. The report didn’t say anything about suspicious circumstances.”

Cullen tutted slowly, clearly enjoying himself. “You heard them say the old Fitzmaurice brewery has been closed for years, and I mean years. Even I used to slip through its fences and hide in the buildings when I was a kid.”

“Bunking off from your posh public school for a crafty fag with the lads?”

“I was never one of the lads, David, and even if I had been, I wouldn’t have wanted them with me while I was enjoying my cigarette and a copy of Zipper or Vulcan or whatever I’d managed to get my hands on. Anyway, these days the old Fitzmaurice brewery has got more barbed wire around it than the nearest HMP but it’s still notorious as a hangout for kids drinking and taking God knows what. Which means, the victim of our tragic accident would have had to walk through several very obstructive fences and have failed to notice several very prominent warning signs before he made it to the buildings where he was no doubt in the act of doing something very naughty before a ton of bricks fell on his trespassing little head.” Cullen assumed an expression of mock surprise. “I know my constituency, sergeant. Don’t you know your beat?”

Annoyed with himself and with Cullen, Dave was damned if he’d show it. Now he thought about it, he did remember some talk back at the Foregate Street station about the brewery, but he was still comparatively new to the area, and neither the name nor the reputation of the place had struck a chord when he’d heard that television report.

Cullen, of course, made no allowances. The product of an Oxford education, where he had been on a winning Boat Race team, and of an adversarial parliamentary system where he had been, when elected to the House of Commons over a decade previously, one of the youngest MPs in the house, Sean Cullen was an extremely competitive man. And that competitiveness, Dave was discovering, extended all the way into his personal life.

Dave took some comfort from the image of the young public school boy Cullen had been, sneaking off to abandoned warehouses to smoke and enjoy gay wank mags. It was good to remember he hadn’t always been the high-profile, smug arse he was now. “Well, whatever he was doing, I doubt it was going through his collection of gay porn.”

“You think kids have changed so much?”

“No. But they do have the internet. Any young lad these days can pleasure himself blind in the comfort of his own home. Straight or gay.”

Cullen reluctantly conceded the point. “Mind you, it wasn’t all just about the fags and mags.” He yawned lazily, like a self-satisfied cat recalling an empty carton of cream.

Dave buttoned up his shirt, began the search for his shoes, and refused to give Cullen the satisfaction of asking what he meant by that. How was it you could only ever find one shoe when you were trying to leave a guy’s bedroom? “Why’d you even want the television on anyway?” he asked as he searched. “You trying to impress me with the size of your screen?”

“I thought I already had impressed you. And I was hoping,” Cullen went on, before Dave could reply, “to catch something about my Fitness First initiative. I did an interview about it yesterday for the local news. They said it might be on today. We’ve probably missed it. Or it’s been dropped in favour of the tragic accident. I’ll check again later.”

“Want to see how good your profile looks on the television?”

Cullen smiled, the sheet over his body slipping down another inch, almost accidentally. “I know how good it looks on television.”

Yeah, I’ll bet you do. Like the body, Sean’s was a great profile. With those cheekbones, there had to be aristocracy somewhere in his family bloodline. “I’m only surprised you haven’t got a mirror over the bed.”

Cullen yawned. “Too seventies. And it would get in the way of the cameras.”

Missing shoe found, Dave stood, reached for his jacket, and forced himself not to look up at the ceiling over the bed. A joke. Just a joke. Don’t give him the reaction he wants. “I’ll see myself out, shall I?”

“I think you know the way by now.”

At the bedroom door Dave stopped, hand on the handle, and looked back. Cullen’s eyes were closed as if he was already drifting into sleep. “You never ask me to stay.” It was a simple fact, calmly stated.

Cullen didn’t open his eyes. “Would you?”

Dave considered. “No. See you later.”

“I look forward to it.”

Neither man suggested when or where that might be.

This had been their third hookup at Cullen’s house since that night they had walked out of Gallery 48 together, and this was pretty much the way it had ended the previous two times. Dave couldn’t see that changing any time soon.

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Meet the Author

Steve Burford lives close to Worcester but rarely risks walking its streets. He has loaded conveyor belts in a factory, disassembled aeroplane seats, picked fruit on farms, and taught drama to teenagers but now spends his time writing in a variety of genres under a variety of names. He finds poverty an effective muse, and since his last book has once again been in trouble with the police. (He would like to thank the inventor of the speed camera.)

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Feb 05

Book Blitz: Out in Winter by Lane Hayes (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Filed under Audio Blitz, Giveaways

Title: Out in Winter

Series: Out in College, Book 8

Author: Lane Hayes

Narrator: Michael Dean

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: January 21, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 3 hrs and 24 mins

Genre: Romance, Bisexual, Friends to Lovers, College romance, Humor, Jock, Age Gap

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Synopsis

The grad student, the jock, and some winter fun…

Drew

My new job at the bistro is fun. The owners are good guys, and the staff is made up primarily of boisterous water polo players. I know nothing about the sport except there’s a Speedo involved, and Liam likes to wear his everywhere. Yes…Liam—the chatty, handsome, utterly charming waiter I can’t seem to stop thinking about. Ugh. Note to self—do not fall for another younger man.

Liam

Getting Drew to notice me hasn’t been easy. He’s a little intense, and he knows how to keep his distance. Something tells me he’s not immune—he’s just stubborn. Maybe a weekend of bonding on the ski slopes will win him over. And if I can get him to come out in winter, I might be able to convince him that we have a chance at something special.

Out in Winter is a low-angst MM, bisexual romance starring an oh so serious grad student, a goofball water polo player, and a little winter magic. This story is part of the Out in College series, but each book can be read as a stand-alone.

Excerpt

The stunning winter wonderland panorama was dotted with impossibly tall evergreens flocked with snow and the pristine hills glistening in the morning sun. It was so quiet, I could almost imagine we were alone in the world. That was precisely the kind of thought that freaked me out sometimes. But not today. Today the idea seemed…promising. Maybe even cleansing, like a new start.

“It’s beautiful,” I said reverently.

“This is one of the reasons I like coming out here early. The light is so brilliant. It looks like a postcard or the photo in the dictionary next to the word ‘hope.’ ”

“That’s a nice thought.”

We shared a smile; then he adjusted his goggles and inclined his head meaningfully. “Ready?”

“Yeah, but…you go first.”

“C’mere.” Liam crooked his finger.

I shuffled forward until I stood beside him with our skis pointing in the opposite direction, expecting him to impart some advice about the terrain or maybe remind me how to stop. Both might have been helpful, actually.

“What is it?”

“Hold on to my sleeve. Stay still. That’s perfect.” He stroked my chin before leaning in to press his lips to mine. “You taste like cherry ChapStick. I like.”

I grinned. “Thanks. So do you.”

He kissed me again, twisting his tongue with mine and leaving me breathless. “Mmm. I’m making it my personal quest to make sure you get down this mountain safely and that you have fun doing it.”

“Good luck with that,” I sighed, aware that my voice had taken on a dreamy quality.

“I don’t need luck. I’m an expert,” he bragged playfully. “I’m going to give you a couple of tips. Listen up.”

“I’m listening.”

“Bend your knees and stay loose.”

“Like this?” I bent my knees and wiggled my arms like a rubber band.

Liam chuckled. “Something like that. We’re gonna take it slow, moving from side to side, making wide turns. I’ll go first. Follow me and remember to keep your gaze forward.”

“As opposed to?”

“Looking at your skis. You don’t look at your feet when you’re walking, so don’t look at your skis when you’re skiing. It’ll fuck with your balance. Ready?”

“Yeah.” I licked my lips and nodded.

Liam glided smoothly down the incline, veering sharply to the right. He stopped with a flourish, sending a plume of powdery snow skyward before raising his poles triumphantly. I snickered at the silly display. He made it seem fun and relatively easy. All right, then. I could do this.

I grasped my poles in a vise grip and dug into the snow, propelling myself forward. I aimed my skis in Liam’s general direction and honestly, it felt pretty damn good. I was in control, a cool breeze on my face, and a light wind at my back. Best of all, I appeared to be closing in on my correct destination. A hot guy was waiting for me in front of a huge pine tree with—

Oh, fuck.

I couldn’t stop. I picked up speed and barreled forward, trying to remember his advice. Knees bent. Check. Don’t look at your skis. Check. Stay loose…

Nope. Not possible.

I was wound so tight my head felt like it might pop off. Every muscle in my body was rigid as I zoomed closer to Liam…and the tree. It occurred to me as my life began to flash in front of my eyes that if I turned downhill, I could avoid the tree and move in the right direction. I might not have control of my skis, but Liam seemed to know what he was doing. No doubt he’d catch up easily and offer tips on how not to kill myself along the way. A comical vision of him doing circles around me while I tumbled into a giant snowball flashed in my head.

And that might have been when things went sideways.

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Meet the Author

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

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Meet the Narrator

Originally from Chicago and currently based in New York City, I have performed around the country and the world on stage, television, and film. I studied acting at the University of Arizona and the University of Kansas City Missouri. Find out more on Michael’s website.

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Feb 02

New Release Blitz: The Beginning by M. Rose Flores (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Filed under Book Blitz, Giveaways

Title: The Beginning

Series: Abnormal/Variant, Book Three

Author: M. Rose Flores

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/01/2021

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 89100

Genre: Horror/Thriller, LGBTQIA+, YA, PNR, bisexual, dark, horror, zombies/undead, postapocalyptic, family drama, found family, children, San Francisco, Alcatraz, anger/aggression

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Description

One of their own is stranded in San Francisco, a city long since claimed by the undead. When the rescue mission goes sideways and someone else is taken hostage by Abnormal zombies, Cate and the Alcatraz survivors find themselves pulled in two directions: Do they enlist the help of a doctor who claims to know the origin of the hyper-intelligent infected, or do they trust a mysterious group called the Organization, who have ties to one of Cate’s people from before?

In the Abnormal zombie camp, it’s clear to Melody that her people are missing some crucial information about her captors. Can she get back to the island in time to tell them before they do something irreversible?

With the island on the verge of chaos and the lives of their loved ones in the balance, the Alcatraz group clashes over who can be trusted, if anyone, and what to do about the Abnormals. To save her family, Cate must pick a side and confront the thing she fears most—before it’s too late.

In this twisting conclusion to the Abnormal/Variant trilogy, the survivors must reevaluate their ideas of family and humanity and finally answer the question that has been on everyone’s mind since The End:

What does Cate’s immunity really mean?

Excerpt

The Beginning
M. Rose Flores © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Cate

Everything will be okay.

I repeat the words in my head, over and over, though I don’t believe them. The rain bears down on the boats, an unrelenting torrent soaking every strand of hair and fiber of clothing. Not one person seems to notice. Everyone looks ahead, to San Francisco. We’re almost there.

My jacket hangs heavy and dripping on my body. Is that the reason my shoulders are rounded, as if I’m collapsing in on myself? Or is it the fear, inching toward desperation with every stroke of the oars? Their rhythmic splashing is nearly drowned out by the rain, the distant thunder, and my own heartbeat as we close in on the city. Toward Samantha.

Our boat bumps the end of Pier 33, followed by the other one. I grip my sister’s hand. Mel squeezes back and turns up the corner of her mouth for a fraction of a second before letting go to adjust her jacket, her hammer, her glasses. She’s fidgety; I get it. I can’t imagine how nervous she must be, and she has far more cause than the rest of us.

But it will all be over soon. Because somewhere close by, Sam is waiting for us. All we have to do is find her. Soon, we’ll be on our way back to Alcatraz. Safe. Together.

If she wants to come with us. If she has magically forgiven me for breaking up with her. Damn it. Ever since I saw the SOS a few hours ago, I have been so intent on bringing her back—so set on getting to her before something terrible happens—I let myself forget why she left in the first place. Or maybe I never let it sink in. Maybe the idea of Sam choosing to live and die alone in the city rather than spend another second on Alcatraz with me was too painful. Her face appears in my mind, the expression the same as when I told her we were done. Hurt, disappointed, angry. Maybe, the face I find will be that one.

Or worse, the face we come upon will be emotionless and vacant, not from shutting herself off, but from something far worse. Something irreversible. The image morphs, turning bloody, black-veined, and white-eyed. Sam, but not Sam. Something one of us will have to deal with. It doesn’t have to be me. Does it? Should it? I glance down at my axe. I’m dizzy for a minute even though I’m still sitting. My body sways on the little boat bench. Mel nudges my shoulder, I think.

“Cate?” Her mouth stretches a little more this time, an approximation of a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

I shrug.

“Hey, we’re going to be okay.” She wraps an arm around me. “No matter what.”

I know she means “whether Sam is alive or not, whether she comes back with us or not.” My insides harden and twist. When I lock eyes with her again and she’s still trying to smile, guilt seeps into me. It should be me reassuring her. Mel hasn’t left the island since we got there. She hasn’t seen a single ambulatory zombie since the day we escaped the city; she’s been safe with her babies and her garden for more than three months. She should never have come.

It will be fine. It will be okay.

I try like hell to believe it.

Murray gets out of our boat to tie it up. Though he hasn’t operated the ferry since we found the rowboats, he takes his inherited role as captain seriously. He moves to help Jax with the second boat. Behind them, silent shadows bustle around on the pier. They’re tough to distinguish in the gray morning light, but they look about the size and shape of adult humans.

“Did Sam find people?” asks Mel, taking hold of my hand again as I help her off the boat.

“When’s the last time you met anyone alive out here?” Joaquin’s hand automatically moves to his gun.

“Never.” Mel’s voice sounds small in this big space. She surveys the area. The last time she was here, it was the dead of night, and we were fighting our way off the mainland.

Debris litters the area. Shattered glass, garbage, pieces of rope and chains. It has always been this way, but it feels more dangerous now for some reason. One single black suitcase sits off to one side. Has it always been there? Surely, one of us would have checked it out. We use Pier 33 as our point of entry every time we go into the city for supplies, and Joaquin and I never miss anything of use. Surely, someone would have noticed such a thing sitting there, so out of place, so conspicuous.

Up ahead, the shadows continue to shift.

Who are these people? If they were with Sam, she would have told them we’d be coming. I can count at least ten of them, far outnumbering our seven. So why are they hiding?

“Hello,” says Marco as we all inch farther up the pier. He sounds nervous, too, which is disconcerting in itself. In the almost three years I’ve known him, I can only remember seeing him uneasy a handful of times.

“Sam?” calls Calvin. “We saw your signal.” He brushes Mel’s knuckles on his way past us, glancing at her, wordlessly checking on his partner. She dips her head.

“We came to bring you home, Sam.” Even as I’m saying the words, a blooming, viscous certainty spreads through me, coating my insides in cold dread: whoever this is, it isn’t Sam.

They emerge from all around and gather. One of them holds a flashlight, but their hands are otherwise empty. No bags, no weapons, nothing. Their bodies are varying shades of gray; their eyes are clear and unclouded. Black veins peek out from under their clean, untattered clothes.

Mel sucks in a breath and holds my hand tighter. It isn’t a reassuring sisterly squeeze; it’s fear. These are not people.

Thankfully, as I already guessed, Sam is not with them.

“Shit,” mutters Jax behind me. “I’ve never seen this many together at once.”

Why are they all together this way, just standing there? We know by now not all zombies are equal, but I don’t think any of us knew they could organize. This many can’t possibly be here by chance. It’s as if they were waiting for us.

“No,” I whisper. That can’t be right.

“What is this?” Mel asks, glancing at me, at Cal, at the squad of Abnormal zombies staring us down. “What’s happening?”

“It’s a goddamned trap,” Calvin says, pulling his bowie knives out of the sheaths on his legs and taking one giant step forward. “Melody, get behind me.”

They must have seen Murray bring Sam here yesterday. Maybe the Abnormals followed them and waited for the right moment to call us over, knowing we’d come for one of our own. Sam might have been dead this whole time. She might not have survived her first night alone.

Seagulls circle over our heads—at least fifty of them—all screaming, undaunted by the rain. What are they doing? Waiting for corpses to scavenge, probably. Not ours though. Let them feast on zombie flesh after we drop every last rotten one. I grind my teeth and take hold of my axe, fighting the urge to unleash a feral scream, ready to demolish these killers, these soulless monsters. They have taken nearly everything dear to me over the last two years. They are everything wrong with the world.

Mel has to let go of my hand to take up her hammer. She wipes her hands on her jeans, takes a deep, shaky breath, and pushes her glasses up her nose. I want to hold on to her, to protect her. She has never been a fighter. She shouldn’t be here.

Joaquin and Marco square off on either side of us and take up their weapons, making no secret of it. Why would they? These zombie assholes must know we won’t go down without a fight. And if they didn’t before, they will now.

The black-haired Abnormal zombie in the front extends one of its grayish-tan hands toward us and opens its mouth unearthly wide. I wouldn’t be surprised if a thousand black flies poured out. It’s hard to tell what the zombie is saying, but it sounds a lot like “Go!”

We rush at them before they have a chance to run us off the pier. To my right, Murray and Marco collide with a pair of them. Mel raises her hammer with a yell. To her left, Joaquin starts shooting, despite Marco and Calvin’s protests. Guns are almost never necessary, yet they are Joaquin’s default weapon. One body drops with a satisfying thud, but his gun is useless against the next one as the zombie shoves Joaquin to the pavement with a growl. He fumbles for his knife, but I don’t have the chance to see what happens next.

I swing my axe at the one sprinting toward me, but it ducks and comes back up fighting. What the hell kind of Abnormal is this? I dodge the punch and move into the formation Calvin taught me last year designed for efficient zombie fighting: Duck, Roll, Crouch, Swing. The zombie watches me. As soon as I start to roll, it shoves me to the ground, and my axe flies out of my hands. I scramble to my feet and reflexively continue the formation, swinging my leg out in a sweep-kick designed to take it out at the knees. The kick lands well enough; the zombie stumbles. As it recovers, I snatch up my axe. The Abnormal blocks my first blow with its forearm. I nick its head, but the blow draws enough blood to incapacitate it for a quick moment. As it frantically tries to clear the blood from its eyes, I drive my axe into its forehead. This time, my aim is true. The body drops.

I give myself three seconds to catch my breath. Many more surround us, and my people need me. To my left comes the sound of a gunshot and a body hitting the ground.

“Joaquin, no guns!” shouts Calvin. “Do you want to bring in more?”

Behind Joaquin, Marco is dealing with a six-foot-something Abnormal. When it claws at his face, he employs Calvin’s form as well. Marco manages to duck and roll successfully, somehow keeping hold of his axe. But before he can come into a crouch, the Abnormal trips him in a move I can only describe as calculated; in essence, it’s the swinging kick in Calvin’s formation. Marco goes down hard. I run toward them. The Abnormal reaches for Marco, but I cave in the back of its head with my axe. The zombie falls, and I hold out a hand and help Marco up. His face is red, his breathing rough. That was too close. He dips his chin in thanks and steps on the zombie’s head so I can wrench my axe free.

“You good?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah.”

A sudden panic tightens my chest. Where’s Mel? I haven’t seen her since the fighting began. I search the melee for her, my heart hammering. I find her landing a solid whack with her hammer to the temple of an Abnormal about my size, half a head shorter than Mel. The blow doesn’t kill the thing, but she ducks as it tries to claw her, and as soon as she can, she swings again.

I sag with relief. She’s got this. She’s fine.

An Abnormal I don’t see until it’s too late sends me sprawling with a single, solid punch to my chest. I fall to the ground, coughing. The zombie, which used to be a pretty brunette human, advances the way a living person would, with sure steps and its stare locked onto me. It lunges.

I duck faster this time, dipping just as it’s about to get me and ramming my shoulder into its midsection, knocking it down. It keeps its wild, defiant eyes on me as I put my boot on its black-veined neck and get a good clean kill. But the weirdest thing happens as I pull my axe free: a voice I don’t know shouts a name I don’t recognize.

“Jamie!”

Another Abnormal charges at me, arms pumping, with what appears to be rage on its face. If zombies could feel rage. It drops to grab a piece of glass, hardly breaking stride, and throws itself toward me. I duck out of the way, but it clips my shoulder, sending me sprawling. It doesn’t hesitate, just starts slicing aimlessly, screaming and screaming. I curl into a ball.

Shick!

My clothes can’t do much to protect me; my skin shreds as the glass drags through it. My arms, my hands, my face. The searing pain of so many shallow cuts mingles with fury and terror, the kind which, in general, might make someone stronger. But I’m frozen in place, pathetic and small. I cry out with each new wound, but I can’t make myself move.

This is it.

I am going to die.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Rose Flores lives in the Pacific Northwest of the United States with her spouse Stephen and their three fluffy beasts, collectively known as Legion (the cats, not the spouse). She is currently working on a degree, two novels, and two collaborative graphic novels. When Rose isn’t writing or studying, she works as a professional dog trainer and loves every part of it, even the copious amounts of drool. The Island is her second novel, the sequel to The End.

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Alcatraz, anger/aggression, bisexual, children, Dark, family drama, found family, Horror, LGBTQIA+, PNR, postapocalyptic, San Francisco, YA, zombies/undead
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Feb 02

New Release Blitz ~ Love’s Curse by Ellen Mint & Perfect Duet by Aliyah Burke (Giveaway)

Filed under Book Blitz, Giveaways

Love’s Curse by Ellen Mint
Perfect Duet by Aliyah Burke

My Bloody Valentine Collection

General Release Date: 2nd February 2021

Valentine’s Day isn’t all about chocolates and roses…this year, it’s deadly. These stories are set around the most romantic day of the year, with characters who might just have to fight for their lives as well as their loves.

Love’s Curse

Love can never die.

Emma intends to spend another Valentine’s Day with the dead Egyptian princess she’s studying, but her world of museums and mummies is hurled into chaos by the arrival of a man, one who looks like if sex was a librarian.

Tarek is fascinated with Emma’s research into the famous heartbroken princess mummy…and she wishes he’d be fascinated with her too. When her hand touches his, a curse millennia in the making unfolds, and the heartbroken princess rises from her tomb.

In this heart-racing story of love, betrayal and death, two people find themselves trying to defy history and come together…with the help of a goddess of love. Can their love defy death itself?

CONTEMPORARY, EROTIC ROMANCE, THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE, VALENTINES

Perfect Duet

When a vacation becomes running for your life, will you trust the one forced to be at your side?

It was supposed to be a vacation…

SWAT officer Xahara Asher is on vacation, meeting her cousins for some downtime. Taken captive during a heist, she is prompted to work with her kidnapper just to stay alive.

Deep undercover, Jager Cline is faced with making the ultimate decision—let an innocent get hurt or protect her by forcing her along as his hostage. Unbeknownst to him, she’s far more capable than he initially assumes.

Tossed into tight quarters, things heat up rapidly between them. When it all goes down and the smoke clears, who will still be standing?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, kidnapping, and references to off-page murder.

CONTEMPORARY, EROTIC ROMANCE,THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE,VALENTINES

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Love’s Curse
Perfect Duet

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About the Authors

Ellen Mint

Ellen Mint adores the adorkable heroes who charm with their shy smiles and heroines that pack a punch. She recently won the Top Ten Handmaid’s Challenge on Wattpad where hers was chosen by Margaret Atwood. Her books, Undercover Siren and Fever are available at Amazon as well as a short story in the Lucky Between The Sheets anthology. Married, she lives in Nebraska with her dog named after Granny Weatherwax. Her hobbies include gaming, painting, and halloween prop making. The basement is full of skeletons because they ran out of room in the closets.

You can find Ellen at her website here and also on Bookbub.

Aliyah Burke

Aliyah Burke is an avid reader and is never far from pen and paper (or the computer). She is happily married to a career military man. They are owned by six Borzoi. She spends her days at the day job, writing, and working with her dogs. She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached here. She can also be found on Facebook or Twitter: @AliyahBurke96. And Pinterest.

If you would like to be kept abreast of what’s going on in the world of Aliyah, you can sign up to her newsletter here.

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Ellen Mint & Aliyah Burke Giveaway

ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A FREE ELLEN MINT OR ALIYAH BURKE ROMANCE BOOK! Notice: This competition ends on 16th February 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

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Feb 02

New Release Blitz ~ Dark Valentine by J.P. Bowie & Blood Red Roses by S.J. Coles (Giveaway)

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Dark Valentine by J.P. Bowie
Blood Red Roses by S.J. Coles