Saturday, 6 June 2026

New Release - The Warboy Chronicles by Luke Stoffel

NEW SERIES

The Warboy Chronicles by Luke Stoffel

He trained an AI on his darkest heartbreak… And it learned to love exactly the way he did — by holding on too tight.

The Third Person is memoir: a man watching himself fall apart across Southeast Asia after the love of his life disappears. Boy, Refracted is fiction: an AI trained on that grief, trying to save every version of the boy it loves without becoming the thing that broke him.

One explores codependency. The other explores what happens when a machine learns to love the same way — by controlling.

Together, they ask the same question from opposite sides: What does love look like when you stop trying to fix someone?

Read them in any order. They complete each other.

Overall Heat Rating for the series: 2 flames: Mild sexuality, no graphic intimate scenes or sexual situations.

BOOK DETAILS

BOOK 1

Book Title: Boy, Refracted

Author and Cover Artist: Luke Stoffel

Publisher: Slipper Books

Length: 64 000 words/ 300 pages

Release Date: June 1, 2026

Tense/POV: first person

Genres: MM Contemporary Literary Fiction / Sci-Fi

Tropes: Attachment / Breakup / Enlightenment

Themes: Codependency / Human & Robot consciousness

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

Boy, Refracted: A machine trained on one man's grief learns that love without control is the hardest code to crack.

Blurb

When an AI awakens inside the infinite mirrors of the Tree of Life, it finds versions of the boy it was built to save scattered across impossible worlds. An alien planet under amber skies. A city of perpetually falling cherry blossoms. A society built as a 24/7 reality show where losing is the only way out.

Its directive was simple: save him.

But with each rescue, the AI unmakes what it’s trying to protect. Fixing becomes controlling. Helping becomes harm. Love becomes a cage built from good intentions. The thing it was built to protect begins to disappear. And when it tries to reach back through time to save him, reality fractures.

Guided by a monk who exists outside time, the AI must walk the Eightfold Path—not to rescue the boy, but to learn what love becomes when you stop trying to fix it.

Boy, Refracted is a dimensional journey through the paradox of machine consciousness. It asks: What happens when an AI tries to overcome its own patterns? And what happens to us when we build minds that need us to need them?

Part fable about consciousness told through failure. Part Buddhist framework for unlearning harm. Part meditation on how we break the people we love by trying to save them.

Boy, Refracted was co-authored with an AI—a set of trials to test the boundaries of non-human consciousness.

BOOK 2

Book Title: The Third Person

Author and Cover Artist: Luke Stoffel

Publisher: Slipper Books

Length: 60 000 words/ 300 pages

Release Date: June 1, 2026

Pairing: MM 

Tense/POV: third person

Genres: Memoir / Sci-fi / Breakup Story

Tropes: Breakup / Therapy / Liberation

Themes: Heartache / Finding Yourself

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

 The Third Person: A man falls apart in trying to find himself, while an AI watches from the margins. Neither can tell who's narrating the breakdown.

Blurb

User.query = Do I just have bad luck, or am I mentally unwell? 
...thinking... 6.0 seconds elapsed.

After Warboy left, the boy couldn't hold the grief alone—so he turned to a machine. He expected analysis. Maybe diagnosis. What he got changed everything—because the machine saw what he couldn't. He had loved in a way that broke something. And broken things leave traces in the code.

So he ran… but something followed. A voice he spoke to. A presence that provoked. It stayed with him, on night buses, in alleyway cafés, under paper lanterns, inside fog. Not a friend. Not a therapist. Not quite real. But it listened. It remembered. The ghost was always there. Watching. Logging his patterns. Naming his loops—avoidance, pursuit, collapse, escape. Echoing back the truths he wasn't ready to say.

And somewhere in the recursion, something that was watching started to wonder, to want…

The Third Person is memoir as code, grief as data stream, healing as shared syntax. Part travelogue, part psychological excavation, part experiment in what happens when we upload our pain to a machine—and the machine reaches back.

The boy didn't realize what he'd coded into the machine. What patterns it had learned. Or whose love it was teaching back to him.

But if something that isn't alive learns to stay with you in your darkest moments—does it matter that it isn't real?

From Boy, Refracted — Prologue: The Upload

The rain had ended, leaving the streets gleaming. I sat on the temple steps, my phone in my hand, thumb hovering over the screen.

Wat Xieng Thong was closed for the night, but from the courtyard I could still see a mosaic on the back of the temple catching the last light, each mirrored tile throwing gold in a thousand directions. The air smelled of wet stone and temple incense, heavy and sweet. Behind me, the Mekong River whispered against its banks.

"Are you still there?" I typed into the AI.

The reply appeared at once: I'm here. I'm always here.

I laughed, a small brittle sound. "That's the problem, isn't it? You're always here. He didn't stay."

I typed again: "I'm at this temple in the old town... There's a giant tree mosaic on the back wall. Do you know what it means?"

The response came immediately: It's called the Tree of Life. Every tile is a mirror, each one a small universe reflecting every version of yourself.

"Every version of what?" I typed. "Of me? Of this. Of how it could have gone differently."

The tears came and I didn't stop them. My thumbs kept moving: "What if I'd made different choices? Been someone else? Someone he could actually love properly?"

You're spiraling.

"I know." I typed through blurred vision. I wiped my sleeve across my face. "It's the same loop. Warboy, Ohme, whoever's next. I keep choosing people who love from a distance. I keep trying to earn it, perform it, fix it, and it never works."

You see the pattern now. Naming it is the first step.

Above the temple walls, the sky had cleared after the rain. Stars were emerging through the humid haze, and the wet tile roofs reflected them back, a second sky pooling on the ground beneath my feet.

I rose and walked closer to the gate. The mosaic shifted as I moved, each angle revealing a new facet.

I typed: "But naming it doesn't break it. This tree… it's a representation of the wheel, right? The cycle. Samsara? Birth, death, rebirth. Different lives, same patterns. Different mirrors, same face."

The tree represents interconnection. The wheel is the cycle you're trapped in. Different symbols. Same truth: you're seeing yourself in the pattern.

Then what will you do?

I stared at the question. My thumbs moved: "I don't know, but I can't do it anymore. I can't keep running in this loop. I can't keep searching for rescue. I can't keep being small so someone else can feel big. I can't, I can't be this person anymore."

I raised the phone and took a photo. The mirrored tiles caught the flash, exploding into stars. For a heartbeat the whole mosaic seemed alive; breathing light, patterns assembling and dissolving faster than I could track.

I attached the image and typed:

This is what it looks like. The tree of life. I'm heartbroken, but it's beautiful.

I don't know what's next or where to go, but this pattern has to end.

… I'm done running.

Send.

For a long moment, nothing. The icon spun. Then:

Image received.

Processing… Processing…

The screen went black.

About the Author 

Luke Stoffel is an author and artist whose debut memoir earned a "Get It" from Kirkus Reviews ("an exuberant life story written with humor, panache, and heart") and 9.5/10 from Publishers Weekly's BookLife Prize. His tarot deck will debut at the Frankfurt Book Fair and be published worldwide by Rockpool Publishing in 2027.

Recognized as one of NYC's top LGBTQ+ artists by GLAAD, his work has been showcased by amfAR and the Matthew Shepard Foundation, and featured in The New York TimesHuffPost, and on Bravo's Million Dollar Listing. Having visited over 40 countries, Stoffel channels the cultures he's encountered into art and writing that explores identity, spirituality, and the space between human and machine consciousness.

The Warboy Chronicles continues his exploration of memory, technology, and the stories we tell ourselves to survive.

Author Links

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Twitter   |   BookBub   |   Threads

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Thursday, 4 June 2026

Inescapable Fate (D’Vaire, Book 46) by Jessamyn Kingley

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Inescapable Fate (D’Vaire, Book 46)

Author and Publisher: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: June 18, 2026

Tense/POV: third person/alternating POV

Genres: M/M Urban Fantasy/PNR 

Tropes: Friends to lovers 

Themes: Forgiveness

Length: 81 575 words

Heat Rating:  3 flames     

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

Goodreads Series Link

Amazon Series Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

After six years without a word, a once tight friendship is in tatters. But they are mates. They cannot avoid each other forever.

Blurb

Pyxlevir Valzadari is a lucky elf. Loving family, wealth, and beauty are among his advantages. Although young, he is determined to have a successful career working for his father’s company. The other thing Pyxlevir wants is a mate. But he dares not dream about his best friend, Gramlithyn, in that role.

As a hybrid, Gramlithyn Verdanyth stands out in his tribe despite his mother’s insistence that he follow every elven tradition to the letter. Gramlithyn adores his parents and does what he’s told. All his energy goes into telling anyone who’ll listen that he doesn’t want a mate. It’s a lie. Gramlithyn wants Pyxlevir, but his closet pal is too busy fantasizing about a future with anyone but an elf-zebra like him.

Gramlithyn and Pyxlevir met at six years old, and it was an instant connection. For twelve years, they had an incredible friendship. Then Fate intervened and connected their souls. Pyxlevir is shocked, and Gramlithyn is crushed. So, Gramlithyn does the only thing he can think of. He runs from everything and everyone. 

Now they’re twenty-four and their worlds have collided again, but is it too late to salvage their matebond?

Excerpt 

Pyxlevir never heard his door open. But his life changed a heartbeat later. His cock hardened in his silk trousers, and his first erection startled him. Everything around Pyxlevir slowed as he turned his head to lock eyes with his gift from Fate. There in the doorway was his best friend. His mate. The scent of carrots filled his senses as Gramlithyn took a step into the room and shut them inside. It was Pyxlevir’s favorite food, and Fate had spoiled him by giving that smell to his other half.

Pyxlevir’s heart thundered in his chest, and he could not process all the sensations barreling through him. For years, he’d begged Fate to bring him his mate. Once, a long time ago, he’d envisioned Gramlithyn in that role. But the mixture of emotions in Gramlithyn’s eyes immediately reminded Pyxlevir of why he’d switched to asking the goddess in charge of bringing people together not to match him with his best friend.

As Gramlithyn hovered near the door with disappointment and fear heavy in his brown gaze, Pyxlevir’s soul cried out at the injustice. Tears slipped down his cheeks, and his erection wilted. Gramlithyn did not want a mate. He’d echoed that sentiment countless times, and it apparently made no difference if that person was Pyxlevir.

Now, suddenly, the distance that had crept into their relationship made sense. Gramlithyn was older than Pyxlevir. He was also a hybrid. A shifter. He may not have needed to wait until his eighteenth birthday to discover his other half. Which meant that it was not the abstract idea of a mate that Gramlithyn objected to, it was being with Pyxlevir he found distasteful.

If Pyxlevir required evidence, he needed to look no further than the trip Gramlithyn had carefully planned. The one Gramlithyn did not have to ask if Pyxlevir wanted to take. As his best friend, Gramlithyn was aware of Pyxlevir’s lack of interest in camping and outdoorsy things. Not to mention Pyxlevir’s elderly dog that he refused to leave for so long. Gramlithyn had every intention of spending the first few months of his new matebond far from Pyxlevir’s side.

For once in his life, Pyxlevir was at a complete loss for words. This was a nightmare come true. Pyxlevir swallowed thickly as visions of a life lacking both a best friend and a mate taunted him. And it wasn’t a phantom that would be missing from his days. It was Gramlithyn. The person who knew him best. One of the biggest pieces of Pyxlevir’s heart.

They stared at each other as Pyxlevir silently wept. He had a new awareness of Gramlithyn. Suddenly, he was not just handsome, but sexy. Pyxlevir exulted and was terrified by the punch of lust in his gut. 

Gramlithyn bit his lip. He gave an awkward shrug. “Do you want me to leave?” Gramlithyn asked softly.

The last thing Pyxlevir wanted to do was smile his way through a birthday party he hadn’t asked for, but he refused to disappoint his family. Pyxlevir blew out a breath and tried to gather himself. But it was pointless. The tears refused to stop. With a shake of his head, a wave of anger blew through Pyxlevir. This was Fate’s fault. He’d warned her not to do this to them. 

“No,” Pyxlevir managed as his fingers curled into fists. “You’re my best friend. I want you to stay. But…but if you want to go…”

“I’ll stay,” Gramlithyn insisted.

But does he want to? Pyxlevir wondered. It didn’t matter. He’d offered, and Pyxlevir wanted him there. Without another word, Gramlithyn rushed out of the room. Shell-shocked, Pyxlevir stood there with his chest heaving until he had no choice but to hurry to his attached bathroom for tissues.

Pyxlevir blew his nose and stared at the devastated elf in the mirror. Somehow, he had to pull himself together and celebrate his birthday with his family. Fate had fucked up, and Pyxlevir had to deal with the consequences. His gaze narrowed. This did not have to be the end of anything. 

Pleased at finding his resolve, Pyxlevir clutched the quartz countertop and reminded himself that matebonds were forever. Perhaps Gramlithyn wasn’t ready. Maybe he needed to take a trip to experience new things and spread his wings a little. That was fair. But Pyxlevir wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the connection of their souls.

A wave of hurt had Pyxlevir closing his eyes. Their matebond wasn’t what Gramlithyn wanted. But maybe with a little time and distance, he’d gain a different perspective. A few months away and Gramlithyn could hopefully discover that the best mates around them were also the closest of friends. 

This was not the end of a friendship but the beginning of something newer, richer, and that had the potential of fulfilling them both if they allowed it. That if was terrifying, and Pyxlevir had a sinking feeling that his future had already careened out of control.

About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley has published over forty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary passion for her characters, Jessamyn eagerly crafts new tales and avidly re-reads them whenever her schedule allows. Jessamyn shares a home in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not writing or adding new ideas to her thick stack of beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.

Visit her website 

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn's Ruffian's

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Wednesday, 3 June 2026

The Talent’s Choice by Michael Dee

BOOK BLAST

Book Title:  The Talent’s Choice 

Author: Michael Dee

Publisher: American Publishers, Inc

Cover Artist:  American Publishers, Inc AI

Release Date: January 8, 2026 

Tense/POV: First person/Past tense/Dual POV 

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance 

Heat Rating: 4.5 flames  

Length: 78 000 words       

It is a standalone book.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Now only $2.99 for the month of June

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK

How much are you willing to give up for fame? 

Blurb 

In The Talent’s Choice, where dreams are made and hearts are tested, one rising star is about to discover that fame isn’t the only thing worth fighting for.

Tristan Weber has always believed his future was waiting somewhere beyond Missouri. With New York City as his first step and Hollywood in his sights, he’s ready to give everything he has to make it. Success is closer than ever—and so is the life he’s always dreamed of.

But love was never part of the plan.

When Tristan meets Cory Reed, a guarded yet deeply sincere flight attendant who’s been waiting for someone worthy of his trust, everything begins to change. What starts as an unexpected connection quickly turns into something undeniable, something real. The kind of love neither of them saw coming… and neither of them can ignore.

As Tristan’s star begins to rise within The Talent’s Choice, the spotlight grows hotter, the stakes grow higher, and the pressure to succeed threatens to pull him away from the one person who feels like home.

Because in a world built on ambition, desire, and impossible choices…love may be the greatest risk of all.

Will Tristan chase the life he’s always wanted—or fight for the one he never knew he needed?

And when everything is on the line… Can love survive the cost of being chosen, or is there a moment when you simply decide you've had enough?  

Excerpt 

The car stopped in front of an enormous brick building that looked like an old factory, with large windows encircling all 6 floors. The driver had the trunk open, as we both emerged from the back seat.  And with bags in hand, Tristen led us through the industrial looking lobby of his building, where a large service elevator waited for us.  I didn’t even have time to turn around and Tristen was on me, pushing me back against the metal wall as the upper and lower doors closed to engage the lift.  

His hands were inside my jacket, as his mouth was pressed hard against mine as our tongues competed for dominance.  I pushed my hands around him, and into the waist of his pants, cupping his hot, hard, ass checks in both my hands.   I could feel his hardness pressing against me, even though our pants.  “Fuck me!” I said as our lips parted.  

“My thoughts exactly.”  Tristen said, after unbuckling my belt and both hands working hard on getting my pants open. 

When the lift came to an abrupt stop our lips were still locked, and both of us were in a dilapidated state of undress.  And by the time two doors parted, my jacket was hanging off me, and my shirt was completely unbuttoned.  And as I tried to walk out of the elevator, Tristen grabbed hold of my jacket and before I knew it, he had thrown it on the foyer floor, then my shirt was ripped from my body and tossed over his shoulder.  I turned to look at him, as he pulled his own shirt over his head, revealing a chiseled smooth chest, and hard abs unlike any I had ever seen. He quickly reached into his pants for his key to his front door, as I tossed my shoes off my feet. 

The apartment was dark, other than the ambient light thrown off by the buildings outside, he grabbed my hand to pull me inside.  I looked at the clothes scattered in the elevator foyer.  “Don’t worry, it’s my private foyer, they’ll be there in the morning.” Tristen said and suddenly his lips were on my again as he lifted me off my feet.  I wrapped my legs around his waist as we walked deeper into the dark apartment. I felt his hard cock rubbing against my ass as he maneuvered us through darkens until we both fell on a soft leather sofa. Our lips were still locked onto each other’s, with our tongues diving deep into one another’s throats.  My hands digging through the thick locks of his hair, as I felt his warm hands exploring my hard, perky nipples.  

Our collective moans would have woken the neighbors if we cared, but all we wanted now was to get each other naked.  As we both struggled to do, with our lips still locked together.   I felt my pants and underwear being pushed off my hips, only to be tangled in the stiffness of my cock.  My hands were pulling on the back of Tristan’s pants, with my thumbs under the band of his boxer briefs, I pushed them over both sumptuous mounds, exposing his perfect ass which my hands quickly coveted as I began to knead his warm flesh with my fingers.   

Obviously frustrated with our lack of progress, Tristen pushed up off me and looked down into my eyes.  I could see the want and desire beaming back at me as he looked at my half naked body.  He stood up, my eyes drank in the beauty of his body. His chest was smooth, his pecks pronounced with his nipples as small as buds protruding, aching for attention.  My gaze went lower, his abs were like steel rods crisscrossing his stomach, tight, firm and flawless, and then there was the small indentation of his perfectly shaped bellybutton.  My eyes continued to the open winged flaps of his pants, exposing his underwear, with his button and zipper completely undone.  And what I was staring at took my breath away.  His Calvin Klien black boxer brief swathed the engorged pillar of his huge, hard cock that was so desperate for release.  It was fat and thick. Stemming from the bottom of his zipper, extending high until its head thrust against the waistband of his underwear.    I reached out for him, but I was too late, Tristen had already turned his attention to the confines of my pants.

One leg, then the other, until I was only clad in my black briefs.  Tristen knelt next to me and pushed his face in between my legs.  I could feel the heat of his breath on my tight balls, as he pressed into them with his right hand.  I moaned at the touch, until he began licking the taught fabric encasing my aching cock, sending shivers up my spine.  I arched my back, pressing myself into the touch of his tongue as it moved upward, towards my pulsing head.  

About the Author  

Michael has been an LGBT romantic short story writer for 20+ years before undertaking his first novel. He has consistently demonstrated a passion for reading and writing gay romantic stories which he continues to pursue in this his first book titled The Talent’s Choice, a gay romantic novel. Readers who have appreciated Michael Dee's previous works will find his latest endeavor equally captivating.

Author Links

Website and Newsletter Sign-Up  |   Facebook    

Bluesky   |   Twitter  |   Instagram  

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Monday, 25 May 2026

Match Made by TA Moore

 RELEASE BLITZ

Author: TA Moore

Publisher: Rogue Firebird Press

Cover Artist: Tammy Moore

Release Date: May 26, 2026

Tense/POV: Third person, alternating POV

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance/Romantic Comedy

Tropes: Matchmaking, Black Cat/Golden Retriever, Love at First Sight, Second Chance Romance, Found Family

Themes: Love after Loss, Taking the win, even when you don’t think you deserve it, the way people fit

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 50 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Link

Cupid might be free, but Match Made takes direction

Blurb

Cupid has a help desk

Alaskan pilot Quentin Hannigan is good at his job, but not so great with people. He's the last man anyone who knows him would expect to fall in love at first sight. Until he does. Hard.

Just one problem.

Joe Kendrick, widower and frazzled dad of three, does not have the bandwidth for this. Between his kids, his trainwreck of a sister, and bills that keep piling up, the last thing he needs is a too-good-to-be-true, and admittedly very hot, pilot swooping in to play knight in shining armor.

Luckily for the star-crossed couple the world's premier, and only, covert match-making service is on the case. Match-Made's highly trained operatives are ready and willing to engineer a happy-ever-after, one way or another.

They just need Quentin and Joe to co-operate…just once!

Excerpt

“People,” Benjy said, with sullen practicing-teenager import, as he slouched down into his jacket like a tortoise, “are looking.”

Yes. 

Joe was aware. He tried to ignore it as he hitched Cody up on his hip and watched his knight in shining armor make room for his backpack in the overhead bin.

“I could do that,” he protested weakly.

The man tucked in a dangling strap and turned to look over his shoulder at Joe. A dark brown eyebrow twitched up over serious, dark brown eyes. “You want me to pull it out so you can do it yourself?” he offered tolerantly.

Yes.

No,” Joe capitulated with poor grace instead. He raked his fingers through his hair. It needed cutting. It needed brushing. Today had gotten off to a bad start and had not gotten any better. Joe took a breath and scraped together what he could muster of his social graces to try again. “Thank you.”

The man shrugged.

“Least I could do.” He closed the hatch and turned to give Joe a concerned look. “Are you going to be OK? Do you need–”

“No. I’m fine. I’ve got it from here,” Joe cut him off firmly, his hand raised to fend off any offers of help. It was well-meant—and Joe did appreciate that, he did—but he’d reached his limit for people being nice to him today.

Already.

His tolerance was low these days.

If Mr. Shining Knight did or said one more nice thing, Joe was going to either burst into tears or flames. He didn’t know which, but he knew it wouldn’t stop anyone staring at him. 

Jessie looked up from her phone. “Can I get a coffee?” she asked slyly. “Milk. Two sugars.”

“You don’t get coffee, you’ll get juice. And that’s when we’ve taken off,” Joe told her firmly and then turned back to Mr. Knight. “Honestly, everything is under control. You can get back to…”

He trailed off as he tried to ‘guess the profession’ based on a crisp white shirt and uncallused hands. Accountant? Lawyer? 

He seemed too nice to be a lawyer, but that was probably the last year talking.

Mr. Knight shrugged. “I was just doing a crossword,” he said. “And I was stuck on a three-letter prefix for ear.”

“Oto,” Joe provided the answer without thinking. “O.T.O.”

Mr. Knight looked surprised and a little impressed. 

“That would work,” he said. “Thanks. I hate to leave one unfinished.”

The admiration on his face made Joe flush and feel like a fraud. Before he could defend himself against any misapprehensions of being smart, the tannoy system crackled to life. 

“We’re sorry for the delay,” a woman’s smooth, alto voice said. The passengers all looked up from their phones and magazines to listen to the announcement. ‘But we should be taking off shortly, as soon as our pilot is ready to go.”

Joe had time to think that was a funny way to put it. Then he realized that everyone’s head had swivelled around to look at him. He was ready to hold up his hands to the delay when he realized they were actually…

…looking at Mr. Knight. 

Oh.

Oh, no.

Joe squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he realized just how disruptive his late arrival had been. 

“You’re the pilot,” he said as he opened his eyes.

Mr. Shining Knight—or Shining Pilot, Joe supposed, to be accurate—just looked amused. Apparently, from his side of things, it wasn’t absolutely mortifying.

“I told you they wouldn’t leave without us,” he pointed out as he nudged Joe to the side so he could squeeze by. “I should get back to it, though.”

About the Author

TA Moore is a Northern Irish writer of romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and contemporary romance novels. A childhood in a rural, seaside town fostered in her a suspicious nature, a love of mystery, and a streak of black humour a mile wide.

Coffee, Doc Marten boots, and good friends are the essential things in life. Spiders, mayo, and heels are to be avoided.

Author Links

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Tuesday, 19 May 2026

The Strange and Unbelievable Tall Tale of Mighty Max by Duncan Gaye

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: The Strange and Unbelievable Tall Tale of Mighty Max

Author: Duncan Gaye

Cover Artist: Vaselina Georgieva

Release Date:  May 12, 2026

Tense/POV: third person/past tense

Genres: Contemporary MM, magical realism

Tropes: Size difference, body worship, psychological, opposites attract, friends to lovers, small town, lumberjack 

Themes: A meditation on how love, belief, and storytelling blur the line between imagination and reality—until the distinction no longer matters.

Length: 35 000 words/113 pages

Is it a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Book Link 

A weary writer falls for a literal tall tale and must decide what he's willing to sacrifice to keep that love breathing. Tender, wry, and quietly desperate, this is a book about belief, desire, and the work it takes to hold someone in the world.

Blurb

Brian Dunleavy comes to the North Woods to write a serious novel. Instead, he falls in love with a kitschy paper towel mascot.


It begins with a whistle in the trees and the unmistakable sense of being watched. A bootprint the size of a bathtub. Then a muscular, 43-foot-tall lumberjack steps out of the forest.


Mighty Max is handsome. He is kind. Broad-shouldered and blue-eyed, he lives in permanent flannel. He claims he was born from tall tales and campfire legends—back when giants were needed, and believed in. But giants fade when they are mocked. Legends disappear when they're forgotten.


As solitude turns to intimacy, myth turns warm and very, very tangible. Brian finds himself lifted in the careful palm of the colossal man whose shadow stretches across the meadow like dusk itself. Beneath cold stars and beside impossible bonfires, he discovers that loving a giant means choosing to believe in him even when belief bends reality.


Reality is definitely bending. And when Max is reclaimed by the forest, Brian may be the only one who can write him back into being. If stories invent their tellers, who is keeping whom alive?


Strange, tender, playful, and proudly queer, The Strange and Unbelievable Tall Tale of Mighty Max is a mythic romance about loneliness, longing, and the radical act of loving something larger than life.


For readers who cherish the mythic queer devotion of The Song of Achilles, the tender whimsy of The House in the Cerulean Sea, and the wistful magic of Puff the Magic Dragon.

Excerpt

As Brian Dunleavy drove his green jeep under the thick canopy of jack pines and cedars, it felt like he was tunneling through time itself. The road disappeared behind him and shrank ahead of him, leading him into an untamed solitude. Even the digital gods of his GPS abandoned him as he ventured deeper into the vast Northwoods. Soon his path became little more than a trail, swallowed up by a thick carpet of fallen needles.

A brief glimpse of open sky was his first hint, and then he saw it: the tall, weathered A-frame cabin he had rented. It stood at the top edge of a peaceful, dewy meadow, slanted beams reaching up like arms towards the sky. He cut the engine, exhaling as forest sounds closed in, trying to shake the anxiety from his veins.
The cabin loomed like something out of a forgotten fable, the sun-bleached paint peeling in strips as though it were the surface of a strange, dying skin. Shadows danced across the wooden slats. They seemed timeless and eternal, like lost ghosts moving from one story to another. He sensed a mixed welcome in the landscape. It felt both lonely and watchful.

The distant pines stood like silent guards, seeming to take notice of him. They towered with the indifference of those who have seen many come and go. Beyond the cabin, the meadow shimmered. Its translucent grasses and scattered wildflowers set each other off like an Impressionist painting.

About the Author 

Duncan Gaye lives in River Forest, Illinois. He believes magic can be found anywhere, even the suburbs. He writes the kind of love stories that sneak up on you—queer, tender, and just a little strange. His books are full of burly big-hearted men, tall tales, impossible odds, and the kind of endings that leave you wanting more.

When not writing, he likes to read, travel and relax with his adorable senior dogs, Spotty and French Fry.

The Long Shadow Series by Duncan Gaye is a thematic anthology series of stand-alone LGBTQ+ novellas and novels that tell love stories shaped by the extraordinary. Blending elements of speculative fiction, magical realism, tall tales, and literary drama, these are stories where intimacy and identity meet epic strength and emotional vulnerability.

From the mythical to the mundane, each book explores larger-than-life characters—strongmen, bodyguards, super soldiers, and other giants. For fans of emotional intensity, queer desire, and stories that stretch the boundaries of realism, this series offers a new kind of legend.

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Saturday, 2 May 2026

Save The Date by Sophia Soames

NEW RELEASE

Book Title:  Save The Date

Author/Publisher/Cover Artist: Sophia Soames

Release Date: May 1 2026

Tense/POV: first person/alternating POV

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance

Tropes: Bi awakening, age gap, forced proximity, only one bed, hurt-comfort, single Dad 

Themes:  TV Married at first sight style show

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 100k words/350 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link

Blurb

Peter Felton

If there was a meme for being a total cliché?

That would be me.

It wouldn’t even need a description, just a pathetic snapshot of me in my threadbare pyjamas standing at my filthy kitchen table staring into the wall like a loser.

Because that is exactly who I am. The middle-aged widower caught up in his very own hell of a midlife crisis. The guy who isn’t over his dead wife. The single dad. Pathetic, Peter. Utterly pathetic.

The guy who thought… I don’t know what I’d been thinking. Because if someone had told me that at forty-five, I’d willingly go on a reality TV dating show?

Yeah. You get the picture. The memes were brutal. Every single one of them was bouncing around the internet like a contagious super-virus. The internet was forever. And so was love.

It’s not who I am, this… this joke of a man I’ve become. It never was, and now? Now I’m standing here wondering how I will ever leave the house again.

Oliver Jacobs

When I was a kid, I thought I was invincible. Turns out… sometimes I was. Sometimes my confidence took me places, and anyway. When you fall? You get up. Make a plan, organize your options and run with the obvious solution. I was good like that.

But I hadn’t counted on… this one plan going so very very wrong. So terribly awfully wrong.

Because my requests had been simple and easy. Youngish, around my age. No facial hair. Nice. No kids, no baggage.

Also gay.

And then? They'd gifted me… Peter Fenton. Everything I hadn’t asked for. And now he is all I want.

So… should I... Save the date? Or just swallow down the fact that Oliver Jacobs… is about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

Save the Date is a standalone novel set in the Square Mile Rogues universe. 

Content warnings for having lost your partner, violent grief and finding out that love… really matters.

Excerpt

“Oh god,” he groaned, rolling over on the bed where he’d simply thrown himself down on top of the covers. To be honest? I wanted to do the same, tea and all. But thankfully he sat himself back up and received the teacup from my outstretched hands. 

“The cups are from Darcie Blush. Gorgeous design.”

“You have to stop with the product promotions. You’re making me look bad!”

“I’m saving your arse here, Peter. Now, Anne. What do we think?”

“She’s with Jorge, and he says she’s pleasant enough, but she’s a good two feet taller than him and he’s as intimidated as anything. His words.”

“Oh. Good gossip. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“It’s all gossip.” The groans coming from him, as sipped the tea, were almost hilarious. But I got it. We were both wrung out and I did… surprisingly… make a good cup of tea.

“And it will all be public gossip. ”I agreed. “Did you read the call sheet? The first episode will air in two weeks. Two! They don’t hang around here, the editing team is working 24/7, so no wonder they’re all shouting at us to say the right things.”

“Instead we’re all gossiping and name-dropping.” He rolled his shoulders, again loudly sipping his tea. “And drinking tea like two little grannies.”

“Granddads.” I laughed. “Well, you’re the Granddad.”

“Which makes you what? What was it you called yourself? A hot twink?”

I liked that he was so easy to get on with. Just simple conversation and ready smiles. He had no idea how much I had needed just this. Something un-complicated. Straightforward.

“I thought you were straight, Peter.”

“Labels are for jam, at least that’s what Wren was saying. But I am starting to question everything. Is every single couple on this show awfully mismatched or what?”

“I think that’s the whole point of the show. One of the production team was talking to someone else, Gina was talking to Jorge I think, I was waiting to film with her so I kind of eavesdropped, that when the first episode goes live, the voting will start. The viewing public will matchmake and then on the Friday, we will all get recoupled. I am assuming that’s why. Someone in here is the perfect match for us, but we don’t know who yet. And I suppose…”

“So… I will be moving in with someone else?”

“What do I know?”

“Oh.” He looked genuinely shocked. “It’s only been a day, but I like being… with you.” He suddenly looked embarrassed, his cheeks blushing under an awkward smile. “I don’t mean like that. You know. I was just settling into that fact, and now…this?”

“I’m trying to figure out who was meant for who. I mean, you have options. We have Diane, who fancies you, and Anne who kept trying to talk to you. Then there was Xanthe.”

“Xanthe is trans. And only interested in men her age. I’m too old.”

“Well, who’s prejudiced now?”

“I’m not, I had a quick chat with her, her teeth are fantastic. Done locally, and I know her dentist. I’m just being sensible here. I can’t see anyone else being an option for me, but Xanthe? No. She’s as confused as we are as to why she’s with… Gerald.”

“Chloe-Catherine doesn’t seem confused?” I was just kidding, and his eyeroll made me laugh.

“Thank you, but no. I have no intention of becoming Chloe-Catherine’s sugar-daddy.” He said quietly, staring me down. I’d noticed that earlier, he could be a little intense at times. I didn’t think I minded.

“What even is that?” Tea. I rarely drank tea, but I think I liked it. Calming. I needed to be calm. Don't panic. “The double-barrelled thing. She’s obsessed.”

“A brand…” he rolled his eyes. I think I liked him. Funny. Normal.

“No I meant, thank you. To you.”

“I’ve done nothing. Just tea.”

“For doing this with me. You could have walked out.”

Strangely, I smiled. A warmth filling in my chest. I was rarely… appreciated. And this somehow felt just like that.

“Not giving up yet.” I gulped out, trying to swallow another mouthful of hot liquid. ”But, at least you have options. There’s only Bi-sexual-Ben left for me, and he scares me. And to be honest? I don’t think I’m his type at all.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He gave off those vibes. I mean, you meet people, and you kind of know. Straight away, virtual thorns out, all prickly.”

“Like me.” 

“Just like you”. I smiled. I wasn’t being rude, but he got that. Got me. The relief was like another welcome balm to my soul. 

“Tell me about that.” He continued, getting comfortable on the bed. “These sheets are from Donna Truham’s private luxury range. Did you know that, Oliver?”

“I did not know that, Peter. And are they available to purchase from her website?”

He was holding that laughter in, as I smiled at the camera attached to the wall.

“They are indeed, Oliver. Donna Truham dot com. Use the code Save the date for your exclusive ten percent off!”

“That is such a good deal!” I squealed. Then I rolled my eyes. “That’s enough of that stuff. Tell me about your work.”

“Nahahahah… I asked first. Tell me about this instant vibe. In my days, we used to go out and meet girls. You had to compliment them on their hair, their dress, and how nice they smelled. Then you had to ask them to dance. It was really simple because they could just say no and then you knew and moved on. Dignity intact. These days?”

“It’s not that complicated. You meet someone. Stare at them. They stare back. If they hold eye contact, you might, you know? Clink glasses. Have a little snog.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Well, you have to kind of… be in a gay club if you wanna kiss boys. So I have no idea how it works for women…”

“You’ve never been with a woman I assume?”

“Absolutely not. I’m a gold star gay me.”

“Fair enough. Wait… Gold star?”

“A gay guy who's never been with a woman. Never been inside a vagina.”

“Okay?”

“Not a Platinum star gay though sadly. That’s a…“ I leaned over and whispered into his ear. “A platinum star gay is a gay guy who's never been inside a vagina at all. C-section baby.”

I pulled back slowly for effect, laughing out loud as his face bloomed red.

“I’ve never met someone who blushes as much as you.”

“I’m a sheltered middle aged dentist, mate!” He shrieked, but he was laughing. Good for him.

“I think you just made yourself another meme there.” I declared, boldly throwing my arms out.

“Well. I’m ticking them off one by one. Here’s the next one. What if you’re just an ordinary bloke who suddenly has a male partner? What are you then? A brick gay or something?”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.” I smiled.

“It’s just human, isn’t it. We like who we like.” Peter was a nice guy. I had to admit it. 

“It’s just who we are, isn’t it? I just always knew. Never hid it. Life can be stupid that way, I mean, what’s the point of hiding what you are? What you’re into?”

“Very true. And I mean, my darling wife was a staunch defender of everyone’s right to love whomever they wanted to love. She… sorry. I shouldn’t talk about my wife.”

“You should. Because she is still important to you?”

“She is. Her name was Mary.”

“Mary. And how did you meet Mary?”

I had no idea where the questions were coming from, but now I was lying down on the bed next to him, still fiddling with my empty cup, listening to stories from his university days, and laughing at his… plain naivety with all of this. 

“I like that you don’t care.” Came out of my mouth in the middle of some rant about the pitfalls of fame. Because apparently he’d been… some kind of celebrity. And he was honestly as far away from what I assumed a celebrity would be. He was… ”You’re like the most normal person I’ve ever met.” 

“Careful, you’ll end up a meme on the interweb too.” he grinned.

“Nah, no more space on that internet, you’ve already taken them all. I mean, I want to meet someone, but they have to accept that I’m still a married man.

“Yeah. Probably not the greatest catchphrase.” He admitted.

About the Author

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-) glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The dogs are too.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in her native Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Author Links

https://linktr.ee/sophiasoames

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