LGBTQ+ BOOK PROMOTIONS

Smiling brown eyes. A dark beard. Dandelions. Sunny, happy dandelions.

Blurb

Smiling brown eyes. A dark beard. Dandelions. Sunny, happy dandelions.

For thirty years, Frode’s had the same dream. Every Midsummer’s Eve since he was a kid accompanying his sister to pick flowers to put under his pillow, he’s dreamed of the same man. A dream he never shares with anyone, that makes him wish for impossible things…like true love.

“It’s you.”

Then one Midsummer’s Eve, the man of Frode’s dreams stands before him in the flesh. Both men recognize each other despite never having met in real life. Both men are instantly drawn to each other and want to know more.

“Who are you, Viljar? Are you even real?”

Their questions are many but do the whys and the hows matter? Or should they allow the Midsummer magic that brought them together to lead the way into each other’s arms? Into each other’s hearts?

Traditional Swedish folklore tells you that if you pick seven kinds of flowers in silence and put them under your pillow on Midsummer’s Eve, you’ll dream of the man you’ll marry.

Excerpt

When I look around to take in my surroundings, I realize my feet have carried me to the cottage without me noticing, and something catches my attention on the lawn on the other side of the fence.

A closer look reveals a tripod with a big, professional-looking camera attached on top. And underneath it, a man lies on his back, surrounded by a starry sky of tiny white flowers growing low in the grass. I don’t want to disturb him and I’m just about to sneak away when he turns his head toward me.

Warm brown eyes, with crow’s feet radiating out from the corners, meet mine. But it’s his full beard, scattered with dandelions, that makes my heart tumble over itself in my chest.

Smiling eyes. A full beard. Dandelions.

Dandelions.

My hand flies to my chest as I forget how to breathe.

It’s him.

****

The man’s eyes widen, then he springs to his feet, banging his knee into the tripod almost making it topple over, but his arm shoots out, his big hand landing on the camera, stopping it from crashing down onto the grass.

“It’s you,” he says, his voice a deep rumble emanating from the pit of his stomach, vibrating its way to me, settling in my core.

It’s you.

What does he mean? Does he recognize me, too?

“It’s you,” he says again as he takes a few hesitant steps in my direction. His eyes never leave my face.

“It’s you,” I echo, brows furrowed.

The improbability of it all, of my recurring dream materializing and standing in front of me, makes me take a step backward. He leaps forward, dislodging a couple of the dandelions from his beard by the sudden movement, and I watch them sail to the ground.

When I look up at him again, it’s as though I’m zooming out of my body and look at the two of us from a distance. Two men, separated by a white picket fence, staring at each other as though they’ve seen a ghost, as though they both think they must be hallucinating. His features are so familiar; I know every line radiating from the corner of his eyes, every strand of his beard. I know all the nuances of brown in his dark eyes; as though someone swirled chocolate into a deep well of coffee and then sprinkled some gold into the mix to make it irresistible. I know the sensitive setting of his mouth. I know the intense gaze.

It makes me dizzy, and I stumble but manage to keep myself upright. I take another wobbly step backward.

“Don’t go,” he says. “Please.” He stops but holds out his hand as though he wants to touch me to make sure I’m real.

The feeling is mutual. How is this even possible? How can the man I’ve dreamed about every Midsummer these last thirty years be right here a few steps from me? As though I’ve dreamed him into existence.

I drag my gaze away from his face and take in the rest of him. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his biceps are straining the short sleeves of his button-down shirt. He’s got a rounded belly and meaty thighs filling out his faded jeans, and his big wide feet are bare in the grass.

Heat stirs between my hips. God, he’s not only the literal man of my dreams, but he’s hot as sin, too. When I force myself to look away from his body, our gazes meet.

“You recognize me, too,” he says, eyes pleading. “I can tell from your reaction.”

I dip my chin once. “I do.”

My heart flutters in my chest like the wings of a colibri. Another dandelion falls from his beard and my gaze follows it down as it lands softly on the ground.

My mind spins with questions and it’s making me dizzy again. How can the man from my dreams stand before me in the flesh? A living, breathing human being? A living breathing human being who recognizes me too?

When our eyes meet again, I read the same confusion in him.

About the Author

Nell Iris is a romantic at heart who believes everyone deserves a happy ending. She’s a bona fide bookworm (learned to read long before she started school), wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without something to read (not even the ladies room), loves music (and singing along at the top of her voice but she’s no Celine Dion), and is a real Star Trek nerd (Make it so). She loves words, bullet journals, poetry, wine, coffee-flavored kisses, and fika (a Swedish cultural thing involving coffee and pastry!)

Nell believes passionately in equality for all regardless of race, gender or sexuality, and wants to make the world a better, less hateful, place.

Nell is a bisexual Swedish woman married to the love of her life, a proud mama of a grown daughter, and is approaching 50 faster than she’d like. She lives in the south of Sweden where she spends her days thinking up stories about people falling in love. After dreaming about being a writer for most of her life, she finally was in a place where she could pursue her dream and released her first book in 2017.

Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, short over long, and quirky characters over alpha males.

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one of three ebook copies from Nell's backlist

Sunday, 27 June 2021

99c Offer - Crystal’s House of Queers by Brooke Skipstone #giveaway

99c BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Crystal’s House of Queers

Author: Brooke Skipstone

Publisher: Skipstone Publishing

Cover Artist: Cherie Chapman @ccbookdesign

Release Date: May 24, 2021

Genres: LGBTQ Fiction, Lesbian Fiction/Suspense, Lesbian Romance, Coming of age

Tropes: Friends to lovers, found family, power femme

Themes: Forgiveness, no secrets, overcoming past abuse, fight because we love

Heat Rating: 3 - 3.5 flames

Length: 93 000 words/ 330 pages

It is a standalone story.

99c for a limited time

June 26 - July 2

Buy Links - Also available in Kindle Unlimited

Three senior girls in rural Alaska escape their abusive pasts by raising their dyke flag for themselves and their community.

Blurb

Crystal Rose woke up at three in the morning today, drenched in sweat and breathless after another sex dream with Haley Carson. Later at school in the tiny town of Clear, Alaska, Crystal saves Haley from an assault by her abusive boyfriend.

The two girls renew a love started years ago that had to stay hidden until now. But with Crystal’s grandparents in the hospital with Covid and the possibility of her drug addict parents returning from a 14-year absence, Crystal needs Haley as much as she needs Crystal.

They connect with Payton Reed, a gun-toting artist who helps them feel proud to be gay and willing to stand up to anyone. Together they struggle to make Crystal’s house safe for those who are hated for their love.

Excerpt

Crystal’s room is small with drawings and photos stuck randomly all over the walls—closeups of leaves, flowers, and berries; intricate natural designs created by Labrador tea, spider webs, and lichen; every local animal, including a grizzly sow and two cubs digging through trashcans from this past June; sunrises and sunsets plus northern lights; and, of course, line drawings of her house and family, along with pages of self-portraits. Crystal’s entire world greets her every morning and evening. Nothing is ever removed or covered, just added to, now up one corner of the ceiling. A large white board on one wall displays a self-portrait drawing of Crystal sitting.

Haley stands in the doorway, open-mouthed, trying to absorb it all. “Damn, Crystal, you are something. I love this.”

Crystal smiles. “I’m glad. So do I.” She opens her closet to show Haley her clothing options, including a never-worn pair of stretch jeans Crystal bought at Value Village in Fairbanks—a size too big for her, but a size too small for Haley.

“I’m not sure my butt can fit into these,” says Haley, holding the pair waist high. “You’ll have fun watching me put these on.”

“Oooh, do I get to watch?”

“Certainly.” Haley raises a brow and half smiles as she pulls off her sweatshirt.

Crystal’s breath catches in her chest as her mouth gapes open.

“Oops! I forgot to pick out a shirt. Can I use your robe until I find something suitable?”

Crystal’s face reddens. “Sure.” She removes her robe and tosses it to Haley, who then tosses it on the bed. “Now we can stare at each other.”

Crystal licks her lips. “You are so evil.”

“I’m just getting started.” She tilts her head and cocks a brow. “Do you like evil?”

“So far.” Though she’s afraid her heart will burst, it’s beating so fast.

“Great.” Haley moves toward Crystal until their chests touch. “I love your drawing on the white board. Would you do another of me? Maybe one of us kissing?” Haley touches her lips to Crystal’s.

“Yes.” She struggles trying to pull her phone out of her pocket while Haley rubs her tongue tip over Crystal’s bottom lip. Gasping for air, Crystal asks, “Do you want me to take a pic or not?” Haley smiles and steps back a little. Crystal props her phone against the mirror on her dresser and sets the timer. “We have five seconds.”

Haley moves her hand to Crystal’s neck as they kiss. The camera takes the picture, but they don’t separate.

After a few more seconds, Haley pulls back just enough to speak. “You are the best kisser. Even in fifth grade I liked kissing you. Think of all that time I wasted.”

“We have plenty of time now.” She grabs her phone and shows Haley the photo. “I like that. I can draw it now, if you want.”

“Yes, please.”

“Hold it for me.” Crystal takes her drawing pad and pen from her desk and sits in her chair.

Haley holds the phone against her cleavage, her boobs hanging over her arms. “Is that good?”

Crystal stares and shakes her head. “Evil. Pure evil!”

“Just focus on the photo, Crystal.” Haley slowly sways her torso, making her boobs jiggle close to Crystal’s face. “Can’t you focus?” Her voice drips with seduction.

Crystal clears her throat and closes her eyes. “I think I can. I think I can.” She takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and places her pen on the paper. Haley sways faster. Crystal starts a line then runs it off the page. “Can you please stop moving?” she pleads, unable to turn away from Haley’s breasts. “Just for a few minutes?” She rips off the page and readies another.

Her voice coy, sweet, and sultry—“As you wish. I’ll stand perfectly still.” She holds the camera away from her body, partially covering her breasts.

Crystal starts a line under her chin, sweeps down to make hair, then her face and lips before moving to Haley’s lips, hair, and then ending with her hand. She stares at the drawing for a few seconds then turns it around. “What do you think?”

“Oh, my god! I love it. We look good together.” She gives Crystal a kiss. “Thank you. Thank you.”

About the Author

Brooke Skipstone is a multi-award-winning author who lives in Alaska where she watches the mountains change colors with the seasons from her balcony. Where she feels the constant rush toward winter as the sunlight wanes for six months of the year, seven minutes each day, bringing crushing cold that lingers even as the sun climbs again. Where the burst of life during summer is urgent under twenty-four-hour daylight, lush and decadent. Where fish swim hundreds of miles up rivers past bear claws and nets and wheels and lines of rubber-clad combat fishers, arriving humped and ragged, dying as they spawn. Where danger from the land and its animals exhilarates the senses, forcing her to appreciate the difference between life and death. Where the edge between is sometimes too alluring.

Crystal’s House of Queers is her third novel.

Visit her website for information about her first two novels, Some Laneys Died and Someone To Kiss My Scars.

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Friday, 25 June 2021

New Release - Beyond the Ruby River by Lee Colgin #KindleUnlimited #giveaway

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Book Title: Beyond the Ruby River

Author: Lee Colgin

Publisher: Colgin Enterprise

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: June 17, 2021

Genres: M/M Historical Romance, M/M Paranormal/Fantasy Romance,

Tropes: Mixed species, second chance romance

Themes: Longing, betrayal, forgiveness, grief, reunion

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 72 000 words/ 260 pages

It’s the third in a series but can be read as a standalone.

Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

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When an incubus half-breed falls for a mortal Egyptian man, will their love span centuries or are they destined to pine for each other for all eternity?

Blurb

In Ancient Egypt when the pharaohs ruled the banks of the Nile, Mahu led a simple, if somewhat melancholy, life. Making papyrus filled his days. His needs were provided for, but deep in his soul, Mahu longed for companionship.

Dakarai, born of a demon mother and a human father, craved independence. A young incubus constantly in the shadows of his full-blooded siblings, Daka set out for a new city and a life of his own.

While a starving Daka roams the streets hunting for a meal, the sight of a beautiful man walking alone stops him in his tracks. The handsome stranger is just what he needs to quench his spiraling thirst.

But Mahu turns out to be more than Daka bargained for, and his heart falls for the lonely man.

What betrayal shatters their foundation, can Daka and Mahu find their way back to each other, or is each soul destined to long for the other for all eternity?

Beyond the Ruby River is an MM Paranormal Romance featuring a steamy love story, a second chance romance, and the mysteries of an ancient world. This is book three of a series and can be read as a standalone with its own HEA and satisfying conclusion.

Excerpt

Dakarai

Hunger stirred deep in Daka’s core, an emptiness with claws and teeth demanding to be filled. It was his first night in Naukratis, and already he wondered if he’d

made a mistake abandoning the safe cocoon of his family. Though eager for a taste of independence, Daka’s nerves flut‐ tered with unease as he stalked the unfamiliar streets.

With only a warm sea breeze for company, Daka let loose his extra sense, the one that would lead him to a meal. Entering the wide market square, he cast his gaze over dozens of stalls, their colorful awnings muted in the evening light. Laborers celerated the end of a day’s work with beer, bread, and conversa‐ tion. Street vendors peddled their offerings. Naukratis smelled of fresh spiced fish, baking bread, and candied nuts—all of which appealed to him, but none that would quench this particular hunger.

What Daka needed would be found past the town’s main market, perhaps down a side street or along a narrow alley. Inhaling through his nose, sorting the myriad array of scents, he searched for the alluring aroma of pleasure. A brothel would suit perfectly.

Daka’s intuition guided him forward, but before he could cut south to chase the divine smell of arousal around the corner, his gaze landed on an elegant man and refused to budge. His eyes possessed a will of their own, such was the man’s appeal.

He was taller than Daka’s average height, long of limb with wide shoulders and perfect posture. He wore cornflower blue linen, belted at his narrow waist, skirt hanging to a svelte pair of thighs. Dark onyx tresses hung past his chin, straight and prob‐ ably silken to the touch. Daka couldn’t be sure of the texture at this distance and it was suddenly of the utmost importance to find out.

Though brothel workers would make for an easier target, Daka veered off course to pursue the handsome man instead. To seduce him and touch his lovely hair for himself. He followed through the square—dodging people and slinking amongst the crowd, stealthy as a cat and just as light on his feet—until he was no more than ten paces from his quarry.

This close, Daka could pick up the scent lingering in the man’s wake. Earthen and woody, like the papyrus that grew in the marshy lands nearby. He inhaled greedily. What would he smell like aroused? Daka had to know.

The man left the busy center of town, turned west, and continued between rows of mud brick houses, his pace steady as a pulsing heart. He had the stride of a man to a purpose. Daka’s curiosity grew with each step. Instead of catching up to begin the seduction, Daka shoved his appetite aside in favor of learning the man’s destination.

They walked for another quarter hour until the chirps of bugs overtook the noise from town and houses gave way to farmland. Daka spotted the neat rows of tumuli leading to an ancient mastaba, and their endpoint became clear.

The man had led him to the final resting place of Naukratis’ dead.

Well-maintained burial mounds, with funerary gardens throughout, lined the landscape. Daka hung back so as not to be noticed or to disturb this man in his grief. The perfect posture he’d noted earlier began to sag, shoulders drooping forward, head bowed as he knelt by a triad of graves. He sat back on his heels, long thighs stretched thin, the blue linen of his skirt revealing smooth bronzed skin.

Daka could not help his appetite, inappropriate as it may be, though he would strive to contain it. This man was in no mood for the sort of amorous encounter an incubus like himself fed on. He needed a warm, familial embrace, not the frenzied release Daka itched to provide.

He slunk back into the shadows to watch from under a sweet-smelling date palm. The man sat with the dead. Daka sat by himself, wondering who the man had lost.

Daka’s family possessed immortality. At least, his mother and siblings did. His father was human, but Daka had never met him. As a half-blooded demon, he’d staked claim to immortality but not to all the gifts that came with it. His powers of sway and persuasion were paltry in comparison to his full-blooded brethren. Unable to bend people to his will, Daka could only nudge. He might never develop the skill of astral projection. But he would live forever, a feat which seemed unfathomable at only twenty-two years into eternity.

The man bent over the graves had a decade or so on Daka in age, perhaps more. Maybe thirty-five or forty, Daka couldn’t tell. A man in his prime but worn around the edges with the melancholy that loss thrusts upon the living.

About the Author

Lee Colgin has loved vampires since she read Dracula on a hot, sunny beach at 13 years old. She lives in North Carolina with lots of dogs and her husband. No, he's not a vampire, but she loves him anyway. Lee likes to workout so she can eat the maximum amount of cookies with her pizza. Ask her how much she can bench press.

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Giveaway

a $10 Amazon gift card

a direct-to-kindle copy of Beneath the Opal Arc

and a direct-to-kindle copy of Across the Sapphire Sea

Tuesday, 22 June 2021

New Release - The Phisher King 4: Honeypot by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Phisher King 4: Honeypot

Author: Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

Publisher: Eine Kleine Press

Cover Artist: Clancy Nacht

Release Date: June 22, 2021

Genres: Contemporary M/M Romantic Suspense/Thriller

Trope/s: Daddy/boy, mercs with hearts of gold.

Themes: Hurt/comfort

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 72 000 words/279 pages

It Is not a standalone story.

Buy Links

Is Dark Sun an olive branch from Barnes to the men he betrayed,

or is this the honeypot that will secure their demise?

Blurb

It’s been a long road to recovery since FBI Agent Cal Riggs and his hacker boyfriend Hunter Walsh’s last showdown with the treacherous Justin Barnes. His betrayal during False Flag left Cal and Hunter scarred and shaken. As their friends Sam Dupre and Rob Crawford dealt with domestic terrorism in Olympia during Penetration Test, Hunter and Cal fought to regain a sense of normalcy that never materialized.

The Bureau under the Trump Administration takes a punitive attitude toward Cal’s passion of fighting white nationalism, and his employment there grows less tenable by the day. Meanwhile, Hunter deals with the uncertainty of Barnes’s continued freedom by taking extreme steps to enhance the security of the condo he shares with Cal. No part of their lives has escaped Barnes’s poisoned touch.

When a shady corporate lawyer shows up on the doorstep while Cal’s at work, Hunter takes the meeting and discovers Barnes’s plan B: In his absence, he wants to bequeath his mercenary company, Dark Sun, to his former FBI partner and lover, no other than Callum Riggs. But what is Cal going to do with Barnes’s mercs? Can he really leave the Bureau he’s been part of since graduation? Well, if Hunter has a say, that’s exactly what Cal will do.

But life in the private sector is dangerous, too. Enemies hide in plain sight in Dark Sun’s every office, and there’s no knowing who still supports Barnes and his deadly extremist agenda. Is the mercenary company an olive branch from Barnes to the men he betrayed, or is this the honeypot that will secure their demise?

CW: Violence, brief sexual violence (not between MCs; no rape), white nationalist terrorism

Excerpt

“Feet. Off. The. Furniture,” Cal gritted out, something sparking behind his dark eyes.

“What, you’re the boss for one day and you think you can just start ordering people around?” Hunter pouted and squirmed down, pushing his feet farther onto the table.

“I’ve been the boss of you a lot longer than that.” Cal’s flat delivery and the challenge in his expression lit a fire in Hunter. It was honestly surprising they hadn’t just fucked over his seriously uncomfortable desk right in front of everyone this afternoon.

Before Hunter could act, Cal dropped Bruiser on him and then leaned down and physically knocked Hunter’s feet off the coffee table.

Hunter caught Bruiser, but quickly released him onto the couch so he wouldn’t get stuck in the middle of everything. The force with which Cal pushed Hunter’s feet turned him sideways, and he barely caught himself so he didn’t topple to the floor.

“You gonna work out some aggression on Mike Hunt?”

“You and your frakking pranks.” Cal grabbed Hunter around the waist and shoved him back on the luxurious sofa, pushing him into a corner and pinning him there with a hand on his shoulder and another on his inner thigh.

That sculpted face and its fading scars loomed inches from Hunter’s nose as Cal stared him down. “You do this crap on purpose, I’m convinced. Mike frakking Hunt. It’s like you’re begging for it. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to be professional today?”

“I was trying to be good. I didn’t even drop anything so you could see how my ass looks when I bend over to pick it up. Didn’t matter, though. I saw you checking me out. Wonder what Rory thinks you’re hiring me for.”

Hunter had removed his jacket when he’d gotten home, leaving him in a snug black t-shirt and the stretchy jeans. “You gonna give me a full-time job, Daddy?”

“If you play your cards right, you little brat.”

About the Authors

Together, Texans and platonic life partners Thursday Euclid and Clancy Nacht write queer novels that span genres, with intense romances and a seamless shared narrative voice.

They published their first co-written novel, the m/m rock star romance Black Gold, in 2010, and now have over a decade of award-winning collaborations under their exquisite belts. Recent titles include the twisted romance His Fake Prison Daddy and the Phisher King series, in which an uptight federal agent and a bratty hacker go from enemies to lovers while solving a hate crime.

Though Elder Millennial trans man Thursday and Gen X gender outlaw Clancy live three hours apart, they are inseparable. Their friendship is a perfect example of the Grumpy/Sunshine trope, which makes Thursday very happy. Clancy thinks it’s all right.

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New Release - Courting Nightfall by Amanda Meuwissen #giveaway

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Book Title: Courting Nightfall

Author: Amanda Meuwissen

Publisher: JMS Books

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs

Release Date: June 19, 2021

Genres: Paranormal, High Fantasy, Horror, Dark M/M Romance

Tropes: Reincarnation, vampires, enemies to lovers, his first time, blood play

Themes: Self-acceptance, redemption, love means letting go

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 182 pages

It is a standalone story

Goodreads

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Zen had only—literally only—ever dreamed that someone would want him this much…

Blurb

Zen is a half dark elf in a world that hates him, protected by being raised by the Order of the Sun to become a priest. He longs for a different life with a mysterious, beautiful man he only glimpses in dreams. After encountering an adventuring party, Zen is drawn to accompany them to destroy a fabled vampire lord, but the pull he feels toward those lands might be more fated than he realizes.

Excerpt

That night, before falling into an exhausted sleep—in his tiny, wooden bed with minimal padding and coarse blankets—Zen gently touched the scar that ran full circle around his neck. He tried ignoring it during the day, hidden by the high collar of his vestments, but in bed, out of his robes, his fingers often strayed there.

He didn’t know what had caused the wire-thin line. He’d had it all his life and often wondered if it had been a failed attempt to kill him as an infant. Like Father Lewis had said, he’d been abandoned on the steps of the temple.

No one wanted a darkling child.

Zen’s existence, his life, was most people’s nightmare, which was why it amazed and yet soothed him that he never experienced nightmares himself. His dreams were sweet. There he had no scars. In his dreams, he was whole and wanted.

Desired, even.

A warm, human hand trailed slowly across Zen’s unmarred neck and down his naked body. Here his bed was plush and opulent, or perhaps it belonged to the man he imagined himself with. Zen had never met anyone like him in waking life, yet every dream he’d had since he first knew he desired men starred the same mysterious figure.

Zen never saw his face clearly, but he was still a vision of noble beauty. Skin pale as cream with soft color in his cheeks, neatly trimmed black hair that occasionally fell into his eyes—and oh, his eyes. Some might think them haunting or eerie, being such a rich, ruddy brown that they almost looked red, but Zen adored them. He adored the smooth, flawless form laid out beside him, trim but well-muscled, and as naked as he was.

Still, all those features painted an incomplete picture that he could never quite bring into focus.

The man’s sex was impressive though, no doubt conjured from Zen’s most carnal fantasies, as ruddy as his eyes, swollen and leaking wetness onto the sheets. Zen had often longed to know the feel of it in his hands, his mouth, and deep inside him, but his dreams never allowed more than a tease.

Zen didn’t know the man’s name and had never made one up, but he thought of him as an angel, giving him pleasures where real life never could.

“You are a beautiful crystalline snowflake, my love, silver and blue and pure blinding white.” He kissed Zen’s cheek, his fingertips tracing mischievously down Zen’s stomach. His other hand ran blunt nails through Zen’s short white hair.

That wasn’t right. Zen kept his snowy-white locks tied back, but his hair fell well past his shoulders. Like the missing scar, he was different here in the dreamworld.

“I miss you,” his angel whispered and bent to kiss Zen’s lips.

Then touch me, Zen thought, pressing upward and opening his mouth to connect them more deeply, while instantly wanting more.

He didn’t know why his mind created a human man instead of someone more like him. Maybe because humans were all he’d ever known. The man was stunning regardless and saw Zen the way he’d always wished someone would.

“Come, my love.”

Zen wanted to—

“Come to me. Come for me, my beautiful darkling, but come to me as well.”

Zen didn’t understand. How much closer could they get? His angel was between his legs, warm hand curling around him and squeezing with promise. Still, for all the lust that stirred in Zen, it was the intimacy of another kiss to his cheek that filled him with the most want.

“Please, love, come to me. Come…” He stroked Zen firmly while licking up along one of his pointed darkling ears, inducing a deep shudder from low at the base of Zen’s spine. “Come… my Zenos.”

That wasn’t—

“Now!”

Zen’s eyes snapped open as if triggered by a spring, his sheets sticky and damp atop him from how he’d come before waking.

Damn it. He rarely did that, usually waking hard and unfulfilled, and then taking himself in hand. Today he’d made a mess, and it wasn’t even morning.

About the Author

Amanda Meuwissen is a bisexual author, with a primary focus on M/M romance. As author of the paranormal romance trilogy The Incubus Saga and several other titles with various publishers, Amanda regularly attends local comic conventions for fun and to meet with fans, where she will often be seen in costume as one of her favorite fictional characters. She lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, with her husband, John, and their cat, Helga.

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Monday, 21 June 2021

New Release - Perfectly Mismatched (Pine Wood Falls #4) by Sarah Havan #KindleUnlimited #giveaway

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Book Title: Perfectly Mismatched (Pine Wood Falls #4)

Author: Sarah Havan

Publisher: Sarah Havan Books

Cover Artist: Sarah Havan

Release Date: June 22, 2021

Genres: Mpreg, Non-shifter Mpreg romance

Tropes: Frenemies to lovers

Themes: Recovering from trauma, starting a new life

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: approx. 80 000 words

It is part of a series but can be read as a standalone.

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

They’re fated even though they can’t stand each other.

Blurb

Dekker Baines decides he wants to start a family, but he doesn’t have an alpha, so he goes to one of Pine Wood Falls get-togethers. It’s where you go if you need someone to mate with, but his evening goes sideways when a few alphas don’t take no for an answer.

Ryder Remington is Dekk’s business partner, and when he gets a call that Dekk is in trouble, he runs to his rescue and comes across a scene that makes his blood boil. A month after the attack, when Dekk goes into heat again, Ryder tells him he’ll be the father of his children. Dekk is reluctant at first but can’t fight his urge to be with child.

Now they’re starting a family, but the thing is, they can’t stand each other. They are as mismatched as two people can get. Together they have to navigate recovering from trauma, try to tolerate living with each other, and get ready for quintuplets. If they can manage all of that, they might get their happy ending, but things never go according to plan.

Excerpt

BALLING MY FISTS AT MY SIDE, I TOOK IN A DEEP BREATH. It was one of those moments where I wondered why I went into business with this man. Ryder Remington was very punchable, but like I could have ever punched him, he towered over me.

“There’s no way in hell we’re naming the bar that.” He scratched the dark stubble on his jaw and shook his head.

I crossed my arms over my chest and smiled. “Why? It’s cute, a play on words.”

“Bars aren’t supposed to be cute,” he grumbled.

“Not everything has to always be macho and manly.” I sat at the bar with my laptop in front of me.

“Macho. Who uses that word? You know who? Someone who likes cute. For now, the bar is staying named bar.” He couldn’t even be bothered to capitalize it. The sign above the door outside seriously said bar. From where he squatted on the floor, he bore his dark-brown eyes into me, pressing his lips together. It was his go-to I’m an alpha, and you’re going to listen to me look.

“But The Ballet Bar has such a nice ring to it.”

“No.”

I stuck my nose up in the air. “Fine, always so grouchy.”

“I’m not grouchy,” he said, snarling his lip.

“Gruff.” A perfect word for him. Demeanor and looks. He was a six-foot-five wall of muscle with light tan skin and a head of thick wavy hair. He always wore dark jeans and a black T-shirt and seemed to favor the perfect amount of stubble. And if I didn’t know him and was in a dark alley with him, I’d turn and go in the opposite direction. He always looked like he wanted to harm somebody.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing some kind of work?” he asked as he emptied the box of bottles next to him.

“Aren’t you?” I flicked my wrist in his direction, and besides, I was doing work. Someone had to keep our business affairs in order. I had just finished placing an order for a new local craft beer we were going to try.

“How did I get talked into opening this place with you?” He stood and folded up the now empty box.

“You saw the brilliance behind my plan.” Basically, I was able to front half the money to open the place. Pine Wood Falls offered a lot of assistance if you opened a business there, like land or a storefront, but there were plenty of other things needed to open a business that required capital. I had moved back to the area about half a year before and wanted something new in my life. Plus, being my own boss sweetened the deal, and my friend Lucas told me he heard about how Ryder was looking for a business partner.

He furrowed his brow and began to wipe down the counter. “And you know what?”

“You know what I know? You’re still trying to come up with a response.”

“You’re supposed to be the business end. In the back, doing the books.”

“Do you know that running a business entails more than some money and doing the books as you say?”

He ignored me and continued to wipe the counter.

“And I put up half the money, too, so I should have just as much right naming the place. You’re the one that makes the drinks, but it doesn’t make you special.” He thought since he was the alpha, he got to call the shots, but we were in it fifty/fifty. Therefore, even if he only saw me as some little omega, I still had an equal say, and I was not ready to give up my fight on naming the bar, but for the day, I let it go.

“It does. I’m so goddamn special.”

“You precious little peach you.”

“Said the ballerina.”

“Said the college dropout.”

“I went and tried. Did you ever take a college course? No.”

Well, he had me there. “I was at an elite dance academy.”

He put his hands on the edge of the bar and leaned in toward me. “For high school.”

“I was actually there until a year after high school,” I said.

“See, and you’re making fun of me. I’m a proud college dropout. You, it seems, was held back at your fancy pants school.” He smirked and threw the towel he wiped down the counter with over his shoulder.

About the Author

Sarah Havan writes all kinds of LGBTQIA+ romance, loves watermelon flavored candy, and has a vast flannel shirt collection. When not writing, Sarah loves to read and watch shows about murder.

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New Release - Falling Awake IV: Retribution by Kristoffer Gair

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Book Title: Falling Awake IV: Retribution

Author: Kristoffer Gair

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Day: June 19, 2021

Genre/s: M/M Suspense, Thriller

Trope/s: The hunt begins now.

Themes: Loyalty, friendship, sacrifice, love

Heat Rating: 1 flame

Length: 74 000 words

There are three prior books, Falling Awake, Falling Awake II: Revenant, and Falling Awake III: Requiem which need to be read first.

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“Some people are so low, they gotta look up to see Hell.”

Blurb

“Some people are so low, they gotta look up to see Hell.”

The death of Thomas Reis continues to ripple through the lives of those connected to his case fourteen years later. Andrew O’Donnell and Lawrence Boggs have already fallen, but three more pick up where the others left off, and each for his own reason.

One believes in justice, the second loyalty, and the third desperately seeks a reason to live. All three, however, share the same final end game; Retribution.

The hunt begins.

Excerpt

“I’m glad I caught you before you left then. I’m truly sorry.” He bowed his head. “I held your husband in the highest regards.”

“He respected you, too. Can I get you something to drink? I’m afraid I don’t have much. I’ll be leaving in the next day or two, but I think I have some orange juice, and I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”

“No, thank you.”

Norrma led him into the kitchen and sat down at the table, one of the few pieces of furniture left behind until the day she left. Various paperwork lay in little piles on the table, some it from the landlord, and others from the movers, bank, and relatives who’d sent cards.

“Lawrence’s funeral was this past weekend, then I insisted the kids head back to school. I know they wanted to stay with me and help out here, and maybe it was cruel to send them away, but I think staying busy and being around their friends will help them more than being here right now.” She sniffed. “Lawrence would have insisted they get on with their lives as soon as they could. ‘Death,’ he told us many times, ‘is a natural part of things. Living is for the now. Mourning can always be done later.’ He always made sure we knew exactly how he felt. None of us had to guess whether or not he loved us.”

Joe nodded. “His directness is something I appreciated immensely.”

She took a sip of coffee. “The police came, had a look at his case files, and couldn’t really make heads or tails out of them.” Norma chuckled. “Lawrence always had a unique way of organizing things in life that sometimes only he understood. I packed up what they didn’t take. Honestly, I think they confiscated a few things here and there just so it looked good in their report. I don’t believe they’ll ever find anything, though. Nobody really understood what Lawrence worked on, not in the big picture way.”

Joe grinned. “I know the type. Law enforcement through and through. Takes one to know one, I guess.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” She peered down at her cup. “Do you know what might have happened to him?”

“Maybe.” Joe leaned in. “I sent somebody down here from Iowa, a young man named Andrew, who was looking for a case file I’d loaned Lawrence. Honestly, I figured things would go one way, and Lawrence would swat the boy on the ass and send him back home. Turns out the kid had a way about him, and I think they started working together. This tells me Lawrence was already working on a case and they somehow connected, or he found a use for Andrew.

“The problem is, I don’t have a lot to go on. Something isn’t feeling quite right. The parts aren’t adding up, only I’m not getting a big enough glimpse of the picture.” Joe leaned back in his chair. “I need a bit more.”

“Would these help?” She reached under the stack of folders and paperwork, pulled out two large envelopes, and handed them over.

Anybody who knew Lawrence would recognize his handwriting in a heartbeat. Same perfectly shaped letters. Same size. Unmistakable. And the words written on the front? JOE MURPHY.

Joe’s head cocked to the side. Curiosity? Disbelief? Both? And then she saw something else, a tensing in the man’s posture and narrowing of the eyes.

The predator senses prey?

Joe hefted the two envelopes in his hand. “Lawrence left these for me?”

The lump in her throat returned. “That’s why I was hoping you’d come. I think he knew what he was working on might not end well, and he once told me if anything ever happened to him, you’re the only one he trusted to look into it.”

She watched the man run his fingers across the surface of the envelopes, across his name.

“You didn’t give these to the locals?” he asked. “Or show them?”

She shook her head. “Lawrence trusted you. I’ll put my trust in you before them, too.”

“I don’t know what’s in these.” Joe patted the top envelope. “I can’t promise anything.”

“Don’t expect you to.” Norma sat up straight. Strength. Maybe a little pride. “Maybe one promise. Someone took away my husband, my children’s father. Someone took our love, my happiness, and future. Whoever it is ain’t no better than a roaming, rabid dog, and those kinds of dogs get put down.”

He stared at her. He stared long and hard. “Yes. Yes, they do.”

About the Author

Kristoffer Gair grew up in Fraser, MI and is a graduate of Grand Valley State University. He is the author of 8 novels—some written under the pseudonum Kage Alan—been a part of 6 anthologies, and currently lives in a suburb of Detroit.

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