His Boy to Cherish (Naughty or Nice Season Two) by Colette Davison #kindleunlimited #giveaway

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Book Title: His Boy to Cherish (Naughty or Nice Season Two)

Author: Colette Davison

Publisher: Independently Published

Cover Artist: Colette Davison

Release Date: December 28, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Daddy kink, age-gap, age-play, light ABDL, hurt/comfort

Themes: Letting go, trusting in others, it’s okay to not be okay.

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length:  88 644 words

It is a standalone story, but some of the characters appeared in Greeking Out (Destination Daddies). The story does not end on a cliffhanger.

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Blurb

Dear Santa,

I’m going to be upfront and tell you that I feel silly doing this, but here goes nothing!

I’ve realised that I lean more towards being a Daddy, than a strict Dom. I’m kind and caring, and I want someone to spoil. I’ll always put my boy’s needs before my own. I’ll take care of him in every way he needs me to. I’ll discover what he wants, how to make him smile, laugh, and moan

As for what I’m looking for in a boy… I’d like someone who wants to feel special, and who enjoys being held by his Daddy. If I had to choose between a naughty or nice boy, I think I’d choose nice. I can put a naughty boy through boot camp, but I’d much rather praise a good boy.

What I really want, Santa, is someone to cherish this Christmas. I hope that’s not too much to ask for.

Sincerely,

ExCombatDaddy

His Boy to Cherish is an M/M winter romance with a disabled first-time Daddy, a little who loves stuffies, a twelve-year age-gap, nappies, a loud-mouth best friend, some familiar faces, and a lot of feels.

His Boy to Cherish is part of the Naughty or Nice Season Two multi-author series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but there are so many Daddies looking for some holiday magic to bring them their perfect boys, why not grab them all?

Excerpt 

“Do you want to come in?” I asked.

“Not tonight.”

I must have looked disappointed because he cupped my cheek in his hand and smiled at me warmly.

“I had a really good evening, little bird. I’d like to see you again.”

“You would? Really?” There I went, sounding like a desperate idiot.

He chuckled. “Really. But you need to know that I’ve only just realised I’m a Daddy. The caring and nurturing aspects of being a Daddy Dom appeal to me far more than bondage and impact play. I’ve done those things at a club, but I like cuddling and taking care of the man I’m with.”

“I got that from your letter.”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’ve never been a Daddy to a little before.”

I should have known this was coming. He’d said he wanted to see me again, but maybe he was going to ask me to agree not to be little when we were together.

He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “I like you, little bird. Can you be patient with me while I learn how to be the Daddy you deserve?”

My eyes grew wide as saucers. “I…” Had he said what I thought he had?

“I’ll let you think about it,” he said. “I’ll message you tomorrow if that’s okay?”

I nodded. My head was spinning. He leant close, his lips pressing to mine ever so softly. When I didn’t pull away, he increased the pressure of the kiss. His thumb brushed my cheek, and his fingers stroked my neck. His kiss was tender and sweet, and it turned my legs to jelly.

“Good night, little bird,” he said before kissing my forehead. “Hopefully, I’ll see you again soon.”

About the Author 

Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook Page   |  Facebook Group: Colette’s Cosy Corner

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Audiobook - Tristan by S. Legend

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Book Title: Tristan

Author: S. Legend

Publisher: S Legend Fiction

Narrator: Curtis Michael

Release Date: November 24, 2021

Genre:  Arranged Marriage M/M Romance, fantasy

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, age gap

Themes: Self-discovery, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 4 flames     

Length: 9 hours    

It is not a standalone story. Tristan is book one of the Tristan Trilogy. The story ends on a cliffhanger.

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An alliance forged through marriage.  The cost?  One Man’s dream.

Blurb 

An alliance forged through marriage.  The cost?  One Man’s dream.

Tristan dreams of the day he’ll succeed his father as the next Warlord of Markaytia.  Elves—creatures famous for their darker passions and tantalizing culture—approach the Markaytian king with an offer he can’t refuse: an alliance with the Elves for the one Tristan Kanes. 

Tristan is forced to give up his dream. 

He’s not thrilled, but Tristan is a man of duty above all else.  What choice does he have?  He cannot refuse the king or Markaytia. He begrudgingly comes to terms with the arranged marriage. Is he a tad sour about it?  Yes, but he’ll get over it.  

Probably.

Maybe it won’t be so bad.  Elves have cool weapons, maybe he’ll get one? 

Corrik bans him from cool weapons.

Corrik’s seen Tristan’s gruesome death on the point of a sword in a prophetic vision.  He bans Tristan from picking up a sword ever again.  Tristan wants to accept the marriage with grace to make his people proud, but he resents Corrik for his remorseless attitude over his life’s work.

Facing the Ice Prince and himself.

Tristan’s conflict follows him on the journey to the mysterious Elven land of Mortouge.  He hates Corrik for taking him from the life he loved, boy does he, but his new Elven husband is an enigma and he’s captivated.  He sets Tristan’s blood on fire and freezes it at the same time.  Corrik unravels Tristan’s true nature and despite his best efforts, Tristan falls for his ice prince. 

But Corrik won’t bend.

Corrik wants to be obeyed.  He’s demanding and possessive.  He’s overbearingly protective. 

Can these two find a suitable compromise?  Or will Tristan’s resentment and Corrik’s arrogance ruin forever their chance at love?

Tristan by Mock (S. Legend) is a gay romance fantasy featuring enemies-to-lovers vibes, an age gap, arranged marriage, first times, and a happy ending (um, eventually). This is the first action-adventure romance in the Tristan Trilogy.  Mock may have written it down, but truly it’s told by your lovable host, Tristan Kanes.  He’s funny, sarcastic and while it may not seem it at times, he’s the real person in charge of this story.

Excerpt

I remember the day I was called to the Great Hall alone, which set o all kinds of warning bells. Lucca and I were attached at the hip then and were usually called to the Hall together. In hindsight, I think it was because my uncle, King Amarail Kanes, knew Lucca would react poorly when he heard the news.

I walked into the hall with my stomach already churning and when I saw that my father and uncle were not alone, it plummeted like it had been shoved in ice-cold water.

That was when I saw him for the rst time.

The power of his features came from what wasn’t there, rather than from what was. The man was devoid of imper‐ fections; not one thing about his face or his body hinted to a deciency. There was no weakness in his impenetrable demeanor—the man was used to winning and getting what he wanted. His cold purple eyes knew no warmth or sunshine and sat as sentinels atop the high bridge of his patrician nose, complementing the supercilious manner that surrounded him. Without a smile on his face, he looked cruel and stony. At the same time, there was no darkness in him, whatsoever. Gold hair owed long over silver robes that were open to reveal porcelain white skin; unmarred, and solid. The breezy, pretty robes did nothing to diminish the restrained force of his chest and abdomen muscles—he seemed to dominate the eeminate attire, as if he’d already defeated it. Not a body built for eldwork, but for blood—war.

My cock stirred for him and made it impossible to deny that I was attracted to this ice mountain of a man—I blushed. This was not the place I wanted to have an erec‐ tion. I shifted my eyes away from the prince, down to my boots, placing my hands over my crotch.

“King Vilsarion, Prince Corrik. This is Tristan, my son,” Father introduced me.

“Welcome,” I said, giving a deep bow to each using the Markaytian etiquette Papa taught me, then I took my place beside Papa.

“Tristan,” my uncle said. “We are honored to announce that we have reached an alliance with Mortouge.”

I smiled my best smile. Absolutely, bloody fantastic! The Elves didn’t align themselves with just anyone and knowing what I knew of the recent unrest in the Northeastern Plains, since we helped them a while back, I knew it was best to have as many strong alliances as possible, if the Kanes were to maintain our hold of Dragon’s Rock. For the rst time in millennia, we had to take extra measures to protect Markaytia’s crown city.

“That is excellent, Sire.” I turned to the Elven king. “I’ve been named as successor to my father at my coming-of- age ceremony, and as future Warlord, I will look forward to dealings with your Warlord. We Markaytians could learn from your teachings. I’ve read much about your weapons—I know you forge the best ones,” I gushed.

I wage for peace, but war is inevitable and the prospect of ghting alongside an Elf was exciting. All I knew of Elves at the time was of their weapons and great wars. I had little interest in their other qualities. The Elves are a beautiful, mysterious race, but I didn’t see much use getting involved in their politics or anything else about them since they were also a private race who didn’t often allow outsiders into their grand kingdom.

I didn’t expect the Elven king to frown at my words. The smile on his face lit up the room before, and especially standing next to his grouchy-looking son, the contrast was far reaching. I turned to look at Papa, confused, and he took a sharp breath, ready to cry. Father stepped between us; his dark eyes pinned me in place.

Uncle continued. “The alliance will be sealed with a marriage, Tristan. You to Prince Corrik.”

The displeasure must have been plain on my face, though I tried for the life of me to hide it.

About the Author 

Some of you know her as Mock, others as S. Legend, or Miss S.  She welcomes all names but will often go by Mock, a name given to her by her readers.

Mock is an ambitious creative, weaving the most precious aspects of her soul into stories.  She is an architect, building fascinating worlds, designed from inquiry, rooted in worldly wonderings.  It’s an intuitive process where she is the scribe, the translator, the conduit. 

It helped that storytelling was the language spoken at home.  One simply didn’t say, “We have an ant infestation. ” In Mock’s family it was, “I was on my way to the living room, when a peculiar ant crossed my path.  I looked to my right, a suspicious line of them marched toward the pantry.  In that moment I knew; my kitchen was under siege.”  The natural flow of conversation always took this form.  

And so. 

When Mock wrote her first novel, she didn’t plan it chapter by chapter, there was no outline, no “plotting” to speak of.  But she didn’t “pants” it either, she didn’t make it up as she went along.  She knew how the story felt, where it curved in places and hollowed in others; she knew the destination it rushed toward.  Instead of orchestrating, she let the world inspire her, and held space for the words to come, trusting the characters knew what they were doing.  All she had to do was tell a story, as she always had done; like breathing.  

This is her peace, her healing and solace: Gifts better shared.

Mock’s works are the comfort you seek when you need to come home.  Her unique writing style will take you, wayfaring reader, to unexpected destinations. 

She always says, “I’m not in the business of making up stories, I couldn’t if I tried.  I’m lucky enough to get picked to share someone else’s story when I ask a question to the universe.  Someone answers; I write it down.” 

Social Media Links

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Newsletter Sign-up: Can either sign up at the website or email

Pinterest  |   BookBub

About the Narrator

Curtis Michael is a worldly creative and proud member of the LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities. Having traveled and taught drama overseas for upwards of the past decade, he has somewhat recently taken up voice acting and narration. You’ll hear some of the flavourings of his experience in the Tristan audiobook, as the characters are wildly inspired from not only the world of Tristan, but also Curtis’ different cultural encounters. With two dogs, two cats and a Corrik of his own, Curtis currently resides in Southeast Asia. He can be found on the many beaches or secluded in his vocal booth poring over juicy stories at every chance he gets.

Website  |  Instagram

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T.A.G. You’re Found by D.G. Carothers #giveaway

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Book Title: T.A.G. You’re Found 

Author: D.G. Carothers

Cover Artist: Amai Designs, Samantha Santana

Release Date: December 21, 2021

Genre: Action Adventure, Contemporary, Interracial Romance and Mystery/Suspense

Tropes: Badass Heroes, Tricked into Blind Dates, Half Serious/Half Cheesy Action Flick, Revenge Twist

Themes: Mafia v. Secret Organization, Assassin v. Assassin, Car Chase Dates, Meddlesome Family, What happens in Vegas…

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length:  approx. 50 000 words

It is not a standalone story. 

The Assassins' Guild is a continuous series and must be read in order.

T.A.G. You're Seen

T.A.G. You're Heard

T.A.G. Family Christmas

T.A.G. You're Found

This book does not end on a cliffhanger.

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Buy Links  

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Are you ready for another thrilling T.A.G. adventure?

Blurb

Agent code name Mr. Ti takes the lead in Operation Cyberlick. (Note to self: Stop letting Connor name the operations)

Mr. Ti is hot on the trail of the Poacher, having finally discovered his identity. A trap is laid, but will it get sprung?

Follow Mr. Ti as he hunts down his prey. But who is hunting whom? And will love smack Mr. Ti in the butt face?

Find out this and more exciting answers to questions lurking in the depths of your mind in this next archive from The Assassins’ Guild.

Attention: There is explicit language, violence, and sexual content suitable only for mature audiences. Who are we kidding? Only on bad days are we more mature than teenagers.

Excerpt - Nicola POV

I took the chair across from the slender, silver-haired older man with an uneasy smile. “Good evening, Zio.”

“Nicola, you’re looking,” he scrutinized my appearance especially considering I had worn jeans compared to his thousands of dollars bespoke suit, “underfed.” He waved at someone behind me, and a bowl of the same soup Don Athos was eating appeared before me.

“Thank you, Zio.” Now that the food was in front of me, I realized I was famished. I didn’t remember if I had eaten today. I picked up a spoon and took a bite of the hearty vegetable soup.

“Your mother is worried about you.”

I snorted and finished my mouthful before speaking. “My mother is only worried about the money I send her.” My mother wasn’t Don Athos’s sister, but our family had worked for the Stagliano family for many generations. I grew up at the country estate with my brother and cousins, calling Don Athos uncle.

“Don’t disrespect your mother, boy.” Despite Don Athos nearing seventy, he was still a formidable man and not one to trifle with even if you didn’t know he was one of the most powerful men in the world.

“I’m sorry, Zio.” I looked intently at my soup and took another bite. “Is she well?” I asked after the silence continued.

“She is fine, just worried about her only remaining son.” He paused again. I was sure for dramatic effect. There must be a school people like the capi went to that taught you how to look intimidating when speaking and how to make grandiose speeches. “She tells me that you took another trip out of the country.”

I nodded in confirmation because it was pointless to deny it. If he was coming to me with this, he already knew where I was. I tore a piece of bread off the loaf on the table and dipped it into the remaining bits of soup.

“I have told you to stop looking into the bombing. It is done and over. Nothing will come of continuing down this road.” Don Athos’s voice softened. “Nico, I know you loved your brother, and I am saddened by his loss as well as the loss of my son, may God rest their souls, but he wouldn’t want you to continue on this way. He’d want you to finish school and start your life the way you should have.”

“Zio, I’m so close to finding him. I finally know who bombed the hotel. And if I can just locate them.” I leaned forward in my seat. I refused to believe that Enzo was dead. I couldn’t, wouldn’t believe it until I heard it from the horse’s mouth.

“Stupido, do you think we don’t know who did it?” Don Athos whisper-yelled to not draw more attention to our discussion. “Of course, we know.”

“Then why haven’t you asked The Assassins’ Guild about the abnormality in the account about my brother or who hired them in the first place?” I tried to restrain myself from raising my voice as I boldly called out the organization's name that was only whispered of like the Boogieman.

“You don’t understand, boy. You don’t just ask The Assassins’ Guild questions, and you never ask who hired them. It’s a fool’s errand.” If I didn’t know him better, I’d say that he looked scared just talking about them.

About the Author

D.G. Carothers is actually a dragon very cleverly disguised as a human. They are a non-binary author of LGBTQIA Romance and Urban Fantasy, who enjoys writing original and entertaining stories. They are very excited to share the worlds they've created with you.

D.G. currently lives in Tennessee with their platonic life partner, who is not a dragon. They yearn to live back in Europe and will some day. In their spare time they are addicted to losing themselves in the lovely worlds created by other authors

D.G. is committed to writing the stories they see in their head without restrictions. Love is blind and doesn't see gender, race, or sexuality.

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all three previous T.A.G. books in Audio. (International Distribution through Bookfunnel).

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New Audiobook - Life Lessons by Kaje Harper

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Book Title: Life Lessons

Author: Kaje Harper

Publisher: Self-published rerelease

Narrator: JF Harding

Release Date: December 02 2021

Genre: Mystery/Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: murder-mystery, in the closet, modest age gap, single parenting 

Themes: hurt-comfort, closet-getting-tight, MC in danger

Heat Rating: 3-4 flames  

Length: 8 hours and 47 minutes

It is the first book in the Life Lessons series. It does not end on a cliffhanger but a HFN.

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Mac's three goals: keep Tony safe, catch the killer, don't come out.

Blurb 

Tony Hart's a dedicated teacher, though he's not much older than his high-school students. Between his profession, a few good friends, and plenty of books, he's content with his quiet life. Then the murdered body of another teacher falls into the elevator at his feet, and Tony's life becomes all too exciting.

Jared MacLean is a homicide detective, widowed father to a young daughter, and deeply in the closet. But from the moment he meets Tony's blue eyes in that high school hallway, Mac can't help wanting this man in his life. Mac's not out ― can't afford to be out ― but Tony makes him want the impossible.

Mac isn't the only one with their eyes on Tony, though. As the murderer tries to cover their tracks, Mac has to work fast or lose Tony, permanently.

(This is a rerelease of the 2011 original with light editing.)

Excerpt

Tony said after a pause. “You’re not the only person trapped in the closet. All those guys in the military, stuck with don’task, don’t tell; other guys with macho jobs or religious families. Lots of guys are doing it.”

“But you don’t want to,” Mac acknowledged.

“It wouldn’t be my first choice, no. I’ve put a lot of effort and pain into being out so I wouldn’t have to hide. But I do want you, and I know that comes on your terms.”

“They’re not my terms,” Mac protested.

“Whatever. It comes with being secret and hiding whatever we have together. The question is whether that’s better than not having anything together.”

Mac wanted to shout that of course it was, but he bit his tongue.

Tony looked at him hard. “The other question you have to ask yourself is whether you want to take the risk. No matter how careful we are, you may get caught. A wrong look, a note in your pocket, someone tracking down your cell in an emergency; there are lots of ways this could come out in the open. It’s not a problem for me. But is that a risk that you want to take?”

Mac opened his mouth to say yes, and hesitated. How have I come this far this fast? He’d been willing to cut away anything in his life that risked his daughter Anna or the job. And sex had never been that important. But this wasn’t about sex; it was about Tony. And Tony had somehow become too important to cut away. It might hurt less to give up breathing.

“There’s never been anyone I could go to, to just be myself. I’ve never had a lover, or even a fuck-buddy. I thought I could live without that, but now… I don’t want to. Even with Mai, I wasn’t… I couldn’t relax completely. With you, I’m just me.”

“Yeah.” Tony smiled at him. “That’s part of being gay, you know. It’s not just who you want in bed. It’s who your emotional relationships are with the other twenty-three hours of the day, whose arms you want around you when life hands you shit.”

About the Author  

I get asked about my name a lot. It's not something exotic, though. “Kaje” is pronounced just like “cage” – it’s an old nickname, and my pronouns are she/her/hers. I’ve been writing far longer than I care to admit (*whispers – forty-five years*), although mostly for my own entertainment. I write M/M romance, often with added mystery, fantasy, historical, SciFi, paranormal… I also have Young Adult short stories (some released under the pen name Kira Harp.)  

After decades of writing just for fun, my husband convinced me I really should submit something, somewhere. My first professionally published book, Life Lessons, came out in May 2011. I now have a good-sized backlist in ebooks and print, both free and professionally published, including Amazon bestseller The Rebuilding Year and Rainbow Award Best Mystery-Thriller Tracefinder: Contact. A complete list with links can be found on my website "Books" page at https://kajeharper.com/books/. 

Social Media Links

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Facebook | Facebook Group: Kaje's Conversation Corner  

Goodreads Author page  | BookBub

About the Narrator

JF Harding Facebook Page  |  Facebook Group

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A Quick Buck by K.L. Hiers #kindleunlimited #giveaway

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: A Quick Buck

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Stormy Night Publications

Release Date: 11/19/2021

Genre/s: Contemporary MM Mafia Romance 

Trope/s: Daddy Kink, May/December, Silver Fox, Rich Boy Needs Love 

Themes: Love and Power, Lust Before Love, Revenge

Heat Rating: 5 flames       

Length:  108 000 words/503 pages

This is a standalone story. It is a spin-off from the Cold Hard Cash series, but the other books do not need to be read in order to enjoy this one.

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

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Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

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Blurb 

Alistair Star didn't come to Noah Allan's house looking for a boy in need of a hard spanking from a man who knows how to give one. Noah was just meant to be kept as collateral until his uncle could be tracked down. But when the twenty-two-year-old trust fund brat gets mouthy, Alistair decides it's long past time someone took off his belt and put him very firmly in his place.

Noah may be used to buying whatever he wants and doing as he pleases, but he wouldn't call himself spoiled. Unfortunately for him, the dangerous, infuriatingly handsome mob boss holding him prisoner disagrees, and Alistair doesn't just plan to teach Noah a shameful lesson that will leave him sore, sorry, and desperately aroused. He's going to give Noah exactly what he needs...

A daddy.

Publisher's Note: A Quick Buck includes spankings and rough, intense sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.

Excerpt

“You are an exceptionally rude young man.” Alistair rose from the piano.

“Says the fuckin’ geezer who’s kidnapping me in my own house!” Noah growled. “Wow. Fuckin’ dementia settin’ in, Gramps? Do you understand how crazy you sound?”

“I do believe it’s time for that lesson in manners.” Alistair slid his belt from his pants, folding it in half and lightly patting it against his palm.

Noah froze, staring stupidly at the belt. He was so stunned by the clear implication that he laughed.

“I’m going to take you and put you over my knee,” Alistair said sternly. “I’m going to spank you with this belt until I hear a very sincere apology followed by absolute and total silence. While we’re staying here, I am going to expect you to be a model guest. Obedient, quiet, and dare I even say grateful. Do you understand, dear Noah?”

“You?” Noah laughed again. “You’re going to spank me?”

“Unless you’d like to apologize right now?”

“Ha!” Noah stood up straight and tall, towering over Alistair as he taunted, “I’d love to see you fuckin’ try it, old man.”

“Very well.”

In the space of a blink, Alistair grabbed Noah’s arm and twisted it into his back, dragging him over his knee as he sat down on the bench. It happened so quickly that Noah didn’t have enough time to register the pain until the belt cracked over his ass for the first time.

“Oh, fuck!” Noah tried to kick away, but the pressure on his arm in Alistair’s iron grip made a compelling argument to stay as he was. His ass felt like it had been branded where the belt had struck, and he hissed angrily. Even through his jeans, it hurt like hell. “Oh, wow, yeah, fuck you.”

“That didn’t sound like an apology, dear Noah,” Alistair chided.

“How about you take that ‘dear Noah’ and shove it up your—oh, fuck!” Noah cried out as the belt hit him again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, that sort of language will simply not do.” The buckle clinked as Alistair set the belt aside, and he reached around Noah’s hips to grab at the front of his jeans. “A strong-willed boy such as yourself usually requires additional motivation.”

“Hey! Stop!” Noah squirmed as Alistair undid the button and opened up the fly of his jeans in one swift jerk. A rage like he’d never known filled him when Alistair grabbed the seat of his jeans and pulled them down with his underwear, just enough to expose his ass to the entire room. “Oh, fuck you!”

“Now.” Alistair had the belt again, and he lightly dragged it over Noah’s bare cheeks. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

Noah tried bucking away, but he couldn’t get out of Alistair’s iron hold. He was furious from being stripped and humiliated like this, and he refused to comply. “Go fuckin’ die in a fire. A really big fuckin’ fire.”

“You still have plenty of time to apologize.”

“Yeah? But you sure don’t. Bein’ all old and shit. Might have a heart attack and drop dead right—agh, shit! Shit!” The pain from the belt against his bare skin was new, burning white hot, and Noah couldn’t explain the overwhelming rush coming over him.

Definitely didn’t have an explanation for his hard dick.

There was no way to hide it from Alistair, considering it was digging into his thigh, and Noah ducked his head, embarrassed and furious he couldn’t escape. For some reason, being held down was only making him harder, and the vicious cycle of shame and anger kept right on fueling his persistent erection.

“Why, Noah.” Alistair chuckled low. His voice dropped to a sultry tone, whispering as if they were lovers as he said, “I’m not sure I should continue your punishment under these circumstances. Would you like to apologize yet?”

“Eat… a dick,” Noah panted, refusing to acknowledge how all the little hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood up from the way Alistair spoke.

“Mm, I take it that’s a ‘no’?”

“You’re… a fuckin… genius…”

“Well.” Alistair clicked his tongue, the leather creaking as he raised the belt back up. “I can already see you’re going to be quite a handful.”

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea, you stupid—ow, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!”

This was going to be a very, very long day.

And he still hadn’t gotten that shower.

Fuck.

About the Author 

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, they worked in the death industry for nearly a decade. Their first love was always telling stories, and they have been writing for over twenty years, penning their very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but they never gave up.

Following the success of their first novel, Cold Hard Cash, they now enjoy writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. They love attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of their favorite characters. They live in Zebulon, NC, with their husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

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Blessings and Miracles (Full Circle Christmas Edition) by H.M. Wolfe #kindleunlimited #giveaway

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Book Title: Blessings and Miracles (Full Circle Christmas Edition)

Author: H.M. Wolfe

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: A.M. Snead

Release Date: December 9, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Second chance, found family, insta-love

Themes: Christmas wedding, family reunion, supportive family, Christmas party, marital bliss

Heat Rating: 4 flames     

Length: 56 000 words

It is not a standalone story, but does not end on a cliffhanger.

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It is that time of the year again...

Blurb

It is that time of the year again...

With her niece Willa and her nephews' Sebastian and Fabian's life partner Vincent and husband Lance as trusted kitchen helpers, Zoe Stark throws another epic Christmas party at the family mansion near Hartford, Connecticut. All the members of the Stark and Bloom clans are going to be present, and there are a lot of achievements and happy events to celebrate.

Zane Parsons, a young widower, drives all the way to Orlando, Florida, to Connecticut, to honor the promise he made his grandmother on her deathbed. He is torn between hoping for a new life for him and his only child and the fear of being rejected. Zane strongly believes in Christmas miracles, but will he experience one, too?

After being separated from the only man he ever loved for more than thirty years, Rhett Randall gathers his courage and drives to his ex-husband family's mansion to talk to him for what could be the last time. It could be a total disaster, but it could also be one of those magic moments associated with Christmas.

The Christmas carols mix with the pitty-pat sound of little children's feet and their happy giggles in this gay romance novel about blessings, miracles and the power of love in its many forms

Excerpt 

“We won't be ready on time,” Zoe Stark lamented in the middle of the Connecticut mansion's spacious kitchen. “All my nephews and nieces coming to visit me will starve on Christmas Day because the deli’s delivery service takes forever,” she continued in a desperate tone.

“Nana Zoe, calm down, please, everything will be all right,” Ava, the woman's granddaughter, spoke in a soft but confident voice. “If the deli fails to deliver the  order, we have Dunstan, Leon, and the others who can take care of the problem in the blink of an eye.

“Yes, Nana, listen to my wise little sister and try to relax a bit. All this agitation won't do any good for your blood pressure. On the contrary,” Rayne intervened, taking his grandmother's hands between his own.

“How can you be so calm, child? Your son comes home after spending a year abroad, he’s going to ask Claran to marry him, and you are telling me to relax? What will Gerrard think about his Nana when he and his fiancé sit at an empty table on Christmas Day?” Zoe shook her head, sighing dramatically.

“Nana, I don't think Gerrard and Claran will get engaged this Christmas,” Rayne calmly spoke. “I know my son, and he would have told me had he intended to propose to his boyfriend. We don't keep anything secret from each other,” the man said in a confident voice.

Zoe let out another sigh, suddenly saddened. “And I was thinking that... Anyway,” the woman continued in a livelier voice, “engagement party or not, there is still the problem of the Christmas dinner. The menu I chose for this year is very special to me, but, in the absence of the meats and ingredients...”

“Auntie, everything is fine,” Willa, Zoe's niece, who just ended the phone call she was engaged in, said “I talked to the people at the deli store, and the delivery truck is on  its way. With all the ice on the road, they had to slow down a bit and...”

“Enough talking. Let's get to work.” Zoe clapped her hands, bouncing back to her usual organized and commanding self. “Where is Lance when you need him the most?”

“He's in the dining room with Vincent and Joraan waiting for you to tell them what to do,” Willa answered, amused by her aunt's sudden change of attitude.

“Call them. I have work for them until the delivery truck arrives. Young man, what are you doing in my kitchen? I don't remember me taking over your office at the Van der Meerwe Institute, so please, go away and let me do what I know best.” Zoe shooed Rayne with a gesture of her hand.

“Yeah, sure, no one orders the others around like you do,” Alastair's second-born muttered under his breath as he left the kitchen.

Rayne headed to the mini-apartment he and his three life partners occupied in the other wing of the mansion, plopping on the four-post, king-size bed. Seymour and Sagan, two of his lovers, were helping Ardan with the Christmas party for The Base's residents, while Doctor Ross Brentano-Tavernier, the third man in Rayne's life, was giving the last instructions to the volunteers working on the sanctuary's clinic.

Rowena. So, this was her older brother Willard who loved her and her twin sister very much but couldn't see them as often as he wanted. Kane mentally facepalmed himself for not figuring things out earlier. The poor redhead must have been involved with some asshole who controlled his life and, most likely, abused him in the worst of ways.

“Well, most likely Uncle Alastair gave them a map with the best hiding places,” Sebastian tried a joke in an attempt to make the atmosphere less tense.

“It's a possibility I never considered,” Willard replied, his voice a bit livelier than earlier. “I have nothing against the girls playing all day long, but, when great-uncle Alastair and Mallory are away, Morwena and Rowena are my responsibility, and I wouldn't want to lose their trust.”

“Older brother, you couldn't find me! I won again!” Rowena hugged Willard, looking up at him and giggling happily. “I'm the champion, yay!” She did a little victory dance.

“Yes you are, indeed. But don't forget about your good manners,” Willard said in a soft voice. “We have guests.” He discreetly gestured to Ian, Warrick, and Kane who were about to climb the stairs to the main entrance with Sebastian and Vincent as guides.

“Hi, Ian, I'm so happy Warrick brought you with him. The girls' team needs a big, strong man like you to help us build a taller snowman.” Rowena cutely grinned. “Your friend Kane is a gentleman. He let me hide in your car and didn't rat me out to brother Willard.”

“And voilá!” Ian exclaimed, making great efforts not to burst into a wild fit of laughter. “The explanation of your mysterious absence from earlier. A couple more clever maneuvers like this one, and you'll be in the top position for the kiddies' preferences.”

“My older brother Fabian won't be happy about it, and neither will Ardan.” Sebastian grinned. “Trust me, kid, if you managed to be in Princess Rowena's good graces in such a short time, all the others will be at your feet in no time.”

“Run, it's a trap.” Willard feigned panic. “The shorties will pretend to worship you, but before you know it, they'll turn you into their slave. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about, been there, done that.” Adoration, affection, and warmth mixing in his emerald-green eyes, Willard picked Rowena up and kissed her on both cheeks. “But you can't stop loving them.”

“Let's get inside. You young folks are not affected by this bitter cold, I see, but my old bones are freezing.” Vincent shivered dramatically, making Warrick, Ian, and even Sebastian smirk.

“Go ahead. I think I'll stay for a while longer,” Kane said, looking at Willard from the corner of his eye. “I want to get to know the rest of the...um...shorties,” he continued, blushing a light shade of pink.

“As you wish, but I wouldn't advise you to go there unprepared. Listen to Willard; he's an invaluable source of advice on how to avoid the kiddies' traps.” Ian benevolently smiled, disappearing into the mansion.

“I'm sure I have a lot to learn from him”—Kane offered the redhead a shy smile—“if he wants to share, that is. I don't want to become an inconvenience,” he added in a hesitant voice.

“Brother Willard is alone and sad,” Rowena suddenly spoke in a small voice. “Don't you want to be his boyfriend? He’s always good, but Santa never has any presents for him.” She wrapped her arms around the redhead's neck.

“Rowena Stark, that was...this is not how things go.” Willard hugged the little girl, then put her down. ”It's...it takes time and...relationships are complicated. You'll understand this when you grow up.”

“I just remembered I have important things to do.” Rowena ignored the redhead, grinning cutely. “I’ll leave the two of you to talk.”

“I apologize for my little sister's behavior. This is not her usual self, she's...I guess it's my fault.” Willard lowered his head.

“I love children very much,” Kane gently spoke, “and I saw you do, too. I'm sure we have other things in common, as well, and I'm looking forward to discovering them.”

There must have been something in the air that morning that affected people, making them act differently than usual. From an impulse he couldn't explain, Kane touched Willard's hand with the tips of his fingers, then took it in his. The redhead stared down but didn't shy away from the touch, the deep intimacy of the skin-on-skin contact making his heart beat a little faster.

Kane could sense that Willard Stark had a lot of wounds that went deep down into his soul, and he kept many painful secrets to himself. However, the redhead was a special man, and Kane was willing to wait for as long as it would take for Willard to open up to him. Maybe the two of them were brought together for a reason. Maybe the Christmas magic really existed. Kane smiled at the thought.

About the Author 

H.M. lives with the coolest Mom in the Universe and a fat, gay, submissive tomcat. She loves writing stories about boys and men who love, cherish, respect and protect other boys and men.

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Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26) by Jessamyn Kingley #kindleunlimited

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: December 9, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes:  Enemies to lovers, fated mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 96 664 words

It is not a standalone story, but does not end on a cliffhanger.

Check out the D'vaire Series on Goodreads

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Demons are expected to hate the Imperian, but what if he’s your mate?

Blurb

Praetor Sashati Soriandras is adjusting to his wonderful new life as part of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. His new leader’s choice to leave the demonic realm gained Sashati’s immediate approval. There is nothing there but dark memories and a horrible legend about the butcher who ripped magic from the demons a millennium ago.

After being banished to a tiny realm, Imperian Paszratorabiel—or Paszra, as he prefers to be called—is waiting for his wings to grow back. The minute he recovers, Paszra hunts for a place to bring his family so they can find mates. When Paszra finds a planet full of interesting beings, the presence of demons is the only thing he hates about his potential new home.

When Sashati and Paszra meet, neither man is happy to learn they are mates. The demons blame Paszra for everything, while the Imperian despises Sashati’s people. However, they share a tradition of not denying Fate. But to honor the way their souls are connected, Paszra and Sashati must overcome much more than their initial dislike of each other.

Excerpt 

After they arrived in their office space, Sashati sprawled in his office chair and opened the book Arch Lich Chander Daray had suggested would further his education on the Council. 

“Reading again?” Diyarta asked. Once forced into teaching, Diyarta had left that life behind her for good. Her preference was to be in a gym sweating rather than burying her nose in between pages.

“I’m an advisor to our leader. I cannot function in that role if I don’t fully understand the Council.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m failing in my role as advisor?” Diyarta asked.

“I believe we have different strengths. You have the ear of the demons. You can advise Hexaniys on how to improve their lives. They are strangers to me and him. In our former realm and here in the Council, advisors have areas of expertise. If we were to study the same thing, our voices would be redundant.”

“You were so wasted as a guard in that palace,” Diyarta remarked.

“As long as I never have to return to such a role, I will have no complaints.”

“The same cannot be said for our people. You want to be an expert on the Council, but you cannot forget your place. Hexaniys lives with the Darays because he is one now. You are not. Hexaniys is safe surrounded by sentinels.”

“So are the demons,” Sashati replied. “They live in the Daray Sentinel Complex.”

“It is a temporary home, or at least it was supposed to be, I believed. They want to embrace being demons, not be forced into training and the things that sentinels love simply because the Imperator is mated to one.”

“No one has asked them to train. I do it because I like it.”

“As do I,” Diyarta said.

“One reason the complex suits them is because of the many classes the sentinels offer in the evenings and on weekends. It was supposed to be an avenue for the demons to learn about the Council and to find something to give their lives purpose. Instead, they shop and rest in their apartments. They will go to restaurants for meals but not to the sentinels’ cafeteria.”

“I told you, they fear being lumped in with the sentinels.”

“They must find hobbies at the very least,” Sashati replied.

“They are recovering from the atrocities they’ve endured.”

“Diyarta, they refuse to even explain what happened while we were here at the behest of Masal’akra. How are we to help them if they will not discuss the war?”

“Perhaps when the wounds are not so fresh, they’ll be more forthcoming.”

“It has been many weeks,” Sashati said.

“They worry about you living with Hexaniys among the sentinel leadership.”

It was a cause of disagreement that had slowly grown between Sashati and Diyarta. The demons supposedly wanted Sashati to live among them, but Hexaniys and the Darays had offered bedrooms to Sashati and Diyarta. His fellow praetor had refused the invitation and gone to the Daray Sentinel Complex. 

Sashati was torn between the two places and didn’t know if he was right to stay near Hexaniys, but the demon refused to be dictated to by anyone. That was a life they’d left behind, and the new Imperator gave them plenty of space to make decisions for themselves. The problem, as far as Sashati could see it, was that the demons wanted to do nothing. They spent money and complained to Diyarta instead of exploring the Council.

“The guards of other leaders often elect to share homes or land with them,” Sashati said.

“Demons must find their own path.”

“I’m entitled to do what I choose.”

“Just don’t forget that you’re a demon.”

“How could I ever do that?” Sashati asked.

“It’s easy to get swept away into this world of sorcery and shifters, even though we differ from the others in this world. Our power is lost, and we must never forget how that came to be or that there is no ability to regain it.”

“My hatred for the Imperian burns as brightly as it has since the first time I heard his name,” Sashati growled. The Imperian inspired rage in him like nothing else could, and he doubted any demon lamented the loss of their magic more than Sashati. There was so much of it around them, and it pissed Sashati off to think that if it weren’t for a single man, he’d be casting spells alongside his new allies.

“I wish I had been alive in those days. I would’ve slit his throat myself.”

“Get in line, Diyarta,” Sashati retorted.

About the Author 

Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.

Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

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