Cover Reveal: Roommate by Sarina Bowen

 


It's surprise announcement time! Sarina Bowen is releasing a new LGBTQ romance based in the popular True North series set in Vermont. Read more about Roommate below! And be sure to pre-order your copy today!



ROOMMATE BY SARINA BOWEN 
 COMING JANUARY 12, 2021 


Wanted: One roommate to share a 3-bedroom house, split the rent, and ideally not be the guy I can’t stop thinking about. 

I’m a man with too many secrets, so the last thing I need is a new roommate with a sexy smile and blue eyes that see right through me. Eight years ago, Roderick left town after high school. We’re not friends. I owe him nothing. But back then, I let one of my secrets slip, and he’s the only one who noticed. 

Part of me knows I should run far, far away. But the other part wants him to come upstairs and spend the night. But if I let him in, I could lose everything. 

Seeking: a room to rent in town. I’m tidy, have no pets, and I will feed you homemade bread. 

I should probably add: Gay AF, and has no filter. It’s no wonder my new landlord is so wary of me. 

A smarter man would ignore those hot glances from Kieran Shipley. The broody lumberjack wants more from me than another fresh-baked pretzel. But if I push my luck, I’ll end up back on the street. 

Too bad I’ve never been smart with my heart…



PURCHASE LINKS 


All Links in one spot: https://shor.by/roommate 



Release Blitz + Giveaway: Tipping the Balance (CalPac Crew #2) by C. Koehler


Author C. Koehler and IndiGo Marketing returns to celebrate new release, Tipping the Balance (CalPac Crew #2)! Read more about the contemporary romance and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway! 

Title: Tipping the Balance

Series: CalPac Crew, Book Two

Author: C. Koehler

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: October 26, 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 107376

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, romance, family-drama, gay, real estate agent, college graduate, housing developer, questioning, coming out

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Synopsis

The boys from ROCKING THE BOAT are back in TIPPING THE BALANCE. Nick Bedford’s best friend Drew St. Charles is a man with a dream. He wants to move from selling real estate and flipping houses on the side into renovating houses. Ideally, he’d find the houses and his boyfriend would flip them. Not that he has a boyfriend.

Brad Sundstrom, fresh out of college and working for his father in the family construction business, never believed he could dream of more…until he met Drew. When Drew wins a contract to restore the historic Bayard Mansion, they become the solution to each other’s problems. Drew needs someone to oversee the renovation and offers Brad, who wants out from under his father’s thumb, the job of project foreman.

Working in close contact makes the sparks between the two men burst into flame, and Brad takes his first hesitant steps out of the closet. Before long, spending the day together at work leads to nights spent together. It looks as if Drew’s dream is coming true, but then he is savagely attacked in a hate crime, and Brad panics.

Brad faces a crucial test. Will he overcome his fears and take his place at Drew’s side? Or will he retreat to the stifling familiarity of the closet?

Excerpt

Tipping the Balance
C. Koehler © 2020
All Rights Reserved

“Are you sure you can’t get a general contractor’s license?” Drew wiped the sweat out of his eyes.

“Did you just whine?” Nick grunted as he muscled a cherrywood cabinet into place. “Besides, what about the one you already work with?”

“Shut up. Bob’s great, but I’m getting tired of hiring an outside contractor so this work passes inspection, and anyway, you’d be cheaper.” Drew set a level on the cabinet Nick had just installed and squinted at it as the bubbles moved sluggishly in the yellow fluid. “It’s not…quite…plumb.”

“How come you don’t have a contractor’s license?” Nick squatted down to tap a shim into place under the cabinet. Sweat soaked his shirt, as portable fans cooled the kitchen in theory only, but with the HVAC unit out, fans were all they could get in the summer heat.

Drew looked up from the level, struck once again by just how attractive his best friend was. Coaching the men’s crew at California Pacific College certainly encouraged Nick to keep himself fit—that, and his smokin’ hot boyfriend, Morgan. Some coaches let themselves go, but not Nick. Not for the first time, Drew found himself wishing they could’ve worked out, but they’d given that a whirl as undergraduates and both agreed they made better friends than lovers.

And what friends they were, pulling each other through hard times and celebrating the good. Drew had helped Nick win and keep Morgan. Nick worked like a dog all summer for Drew’s home renovation business. He was one of the few people Drew trusted besides himself to supervise each project from start to finish, the only other person whose eye for detail and quality touches matched his own. Nick treated the jobs done by St. Charles Renovations like it was his own name on the line, not Drew’s.

“Because getting my real estate license took all my time and money when I was younger, and now selling houses takes all my time.” Drew sighed. “The flipping was just a sideline, and now reno work for other people? It’s killing me, I tell you.”

“A sideline.” Nick snorted. “The best home flip in the area. Isn’t that what Sacramento Magazine named you this year? Spend the time on this it deserves, and the St. Charles property empire could grow by leaps and bounds.”

“It still will. I like a challenge.” Drew grinned wolfishly. “Besides, sleep is for sissies.”

“You would know from sissies.” Nick watched Drew carefully to gauge the reaction, faintly disappointed when Drew barely even rolled his eyes. “Is it level?”

“Yes.” Drew straightened.

“Good, now you can use those over-gymmed muscles for something besides filling a polo shirt and help me hang the next cabinet. That’ll be the last of the uppers on this side of the kitchen. The guys can help me hang the rest later.”

“I can’t get too sweaty. I have to show houses this afternoon,” Drew said.

“Don’t worry, princess, you’ll still be the prettiest girl in the room.” Nick laughed. “I just need someone to steady it and hold it while I get it bolted to the cleats. The pilot holes have already been drilled.”

“Seriously, Nick, how am I going to replace you?” Drew asked. “You’ll go back to coaching and your grad work all too soon, and I’ll lose my best crew leader.”

“I’m your only crew leader,” Nick pointed out.

Drew made a face. “Don’t remind me.”

“You and Renochuck have me for another two months, so make the most of it,” Nick said, “because after that I go back to just being your friend.”

“Renochuck?”

“That’s what Octavio and the guys call it.”

“Some of them barely speak English, and they still came up with Renochuck.” Drew shook his head. He wiped a speck of dirt off the rich red wood.

Nick eyed Drew askance as he bent over. “Bend from the hips, not your lower back.”

“Yes, Coach,” Drew sighed.

“Did you enjoy throwing your back out last fall?”

Drew smirked. “Oh hell yes, I had a fabulous time. It was the event of the season.”

Nick didn’t reply. He just glared at Drew, warm brown eyes to merry blue ones. “Did you enjoy the aftermath? No? Then do it my way. I do know something about bodies in motion, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, that’s what Morgan tells me.”

“Hands on.” Nick loftily ignored his friend. He squatted down and put one hand under the cabinet and used the other on top to steady it. “In three. One, two, and up!”

“Now I know,” Drew grunted out, “where that coxswain of yours gets his abrasive tone from.”

“No, that’s totally Stuart’s,” Nick said. “Besides, we’re crew. We’re not real bright, but we can lift heavy objects. Now, put those muscles to some use, Muscle Mary, and hold this steady while I drill it.”

“I’m sure you’re very good at drilling, seeing how much practice you’ve been getting.” The muscles of Drew’s arms and back strained to hold the cabinet in place as Nick hurried to secure it to the wall. Then he noticed something. “Why is the taller of the two of us the one who’s not holding this up?”

Nick grinned at him. “Because I’m the drilling expert, remember? There,” he said as he put the last bolt in. “That’ll hold it while I finish up. You can let go.”

Drew lowered his arms. “Seriously, how’s it going with you and Morgan?”

He pretended to listen as Nick rattled off a list of his boyfriend’s virtues, but Nick’s syrupy smile answered the question well enough. “I’m sorry, what’d you just say?”

“I asked if you were going to be around this weekend,” Nick said. “I’m meeting his parents for the first time, and I’m scared shitless. I’m hoping you’ll be around so I can send panicked text messages from the bathroom.”

“Meeting the parents? It must be serious.” Drew smiled.

“You know it. He’s it, the only one I’ll ever want.”

“Some of us might like the chance to find that for ourselves, you know.” Drew pretended to be very interested in a small pile of loose screws.

“Aww, jeez, not Brad Sundstrom again. I keep telling you he’s straight.”

“Just his phone—”

Nick put the drill down. “Look, Drew. You know I can’t give out his information without his permission. It’s a confidentiality issue, among other things. I was his coach, technically a college official. I can’t just hand out phone numbers like that.”

Drew knew all about Nick’s scruples, having listened to him endlessly gnaw his guts out about his interest in Morgan. He supposed he ought to be grateful to Morgan for taking matters into his own hands, if not because Morgan made Nick happy, then because it shut Nick up. “Then will you at least give him my number if he asks for it?”

“Drew—”

“C’mon, Nick. It’s a fair question. Don’t I at least deserve the chance to get shot down?”

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” Nick said quietly.

“I’m a big boy, babydoll. I can take care of myself.”

“I know, and yeah, if he asks, I’ll pass your number on.”

Drew looked at his watch. “Shit, it can’t be that late, can it?”

“It can be, yes. Late for the showings?” Nick asked.

“Just about. Everything looks great so far, but keep in touch, and let me know if you hear from the counter fabricators, will you?” Drew said, already heading for his car.

“Of course.” Nick picked up his drill.

Drew tried to mop the sweat off his brow as he rushed for his car but only succeeded in pushing it up into his brown locks. He had just enough time to run home and shower before he showed the first of the homes to his clients. Yeah, rummaging around in the dirt and sawdust probably wasn’t the best idea, but he couldn’t give up fixing up homes, he just couldn’t. What he hadn’t told Nick was that some days, he felt like he’d made a huge mistake in getting a real estate license instead of going directly into repair and improvement. Working his way through the building trades might’ve seemed strange after getting his bachelor’s degree in business, but it would’ve been handy when he got a contractor’s license. While he’d never wanted to be a designer, there was something almost magical about watching a dump of a home rise from the depths to become a showplace, limited only by budget and imagination. The cabinets with their reeded glass inserts, the soapstone counters that were supposed to have arrived last week, the reclaimed Indonesian teak floors covered with marine varnish to repel water, the lighting, all of the pieces fitted together like a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle only he could solve—that was why he couldn’t keep out of it.

But how—oh how—was he going to replace Nick?

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

Christopher Koehler always wanted to write, but it wasn’t until his grad school years that he realized writing was how he wanted to spend his life. Long something of a hothouse flower, he’s been lucky to be surrounded by people who encouraged that, especially his long-suffering husband of twenty-nine years and counting.

He loves many genres of fiction and nonfiction, but he’s especially fond of romances, because it’s in them that human emotions and relations, at least most of the ones fit to be discussed publicly, are laid bare.

While writing is his passion and his life, when he’s not doing that, he’s a househusband, at-home dad, and oarsman with a slightly disturbing interest in manners and the other ways people behave badly.

Christopher is approaching the tenth anniversary of publication and has been fortunate to be recognized for his writing, including by the American Library Association, which named Poz a 2016 Recommended Title, and an Honorable Mention for “Transformation,” in Innovation, Volume 6 of Queer Sci Fi’s Flash Fiction Anthology.

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: The Hunter's Gambit (The Archanium Codex #1) by Nicholas McIntire


Welcome author Nicholas McIntire and Other Worlds Ink as they host today's tour stop for The Hunter's Gambit (The Archanium Codex #1)! Read more about the queer fantasy and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway! (TWO WINNERS)


The Hunter's Gambit - Nicholas McIntire

Nicholas McIntire has a new queer fantasy book out, The Archanium Codex book 1: "The Hunter's Gambit."

Aleksei Drago never expected an easy life, but he never expected what he got. Growing up amongst the Ri-Vhan of Seil Wood, losing his mother and just as suddenly being torn from the forest folk, Aleksei had no choice but to make the best of the unpredictable path in life.

But what happens when the monsters and figures of fiction become horrifyingly real? Can Aleksei find the right path? When his life and the lives of his family and friends are at stake will he fight, reforging himself into the man Prophecy demands he become? In a world of magic and Magi, of Angels and Demons alike, how will a simple farm boy survive his own contorted destiny?

This is the story of a seemingly-simple world gone mad, and the reality that every action, no matter how apparently benign, can serve to unravel terrifying truths. This is the story of Aleksei Drago, farmer, Hunter, and so much more.

Publisher | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | Google Play | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads


Giveaway

Nicholas McIntire is giving away two $20 Amazon gift cards with this tour – enter via Rafflecopter:

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Excerpt

Henry spent the rest of the day watching his son closely. Something was undeniably troubling him, but until Aleksei decided to open up to him there was nothing he could do.

“He’ll tell you in his own time, Henry.” he muttered under his breath.

So he waited. Every now and then he would engage his son in conversation, but every time he thought Aleksei might be on the brink of telling him something, the conversation fled to some superficial topic. Did he think it would rain by Market Day? Who did he think would bring the biggest pig to the Harvest Festival? Did he think Mother Margareta would come to bless their fields before the first frost?

Henry answered each question as though it was the direction he meant to steer the conversation, and refused to allow his frustration to surface. But by the end of the evening, he was no closer to understanding his son’s troubles than he’d been that morning.

Finally Aleksei rose from his seat before the fire, put his book away, and went to bed. Henry watched him go, more troubled than ever. The boy had never gone to bed without a word before. He always had some last comment to make, even if it was just to wonder at the next day’s activities.

Henry sat before the dying embers of the fire well into the night, thinking. He didn’t remember falling asleep, so when the voice woke him his eyes started open.

Hello, Henry.

He looked around, trying to get his bearings.

Gone was the heat of the hearth, the comfort of his chair. Instead he stood in an enveloping fog of shimmering gold.

He could see no one.

“Where am I?” Henry demanded.

A dream, Henry. This is merely an illusion. I apologize that I cannot offer you more comfortable surroundings at the moment.

“Who are you?” Henry called, feeling a touch foolish, shouting at phantoms.

His question went unanswered.

Henry, I’ve come to ask a favor.

“Who are you?” Henry repeated flatly.

There was a moment of hesitation before the voice responded. A man much like yourself, Henry Drago. One who only wants what’s best for your son.

“Speak then.”

When the favor was uttered, Henry blinked in confusion. A thousand questions bubbled to the surface, yet he found that he only possessed the strength to ask one.

“Why?” he choked, surprised by the weakness in his own voice.

The air before his face shimmered and distorted, as though he were looking through intense heat. Slowly, images formed. Images of Aleksei. An Aleksei he didn't recognize.

“Why are you showing me this?” Henry managed.

Because I want you to see what your son could become. The man he could be, if you’d only let him. If you just do as I say.

“I don’t trust you.” Henry barked back. “I can’t even see your face.”

Another image shimmered into being. A man, though Henry saw nothing remarkable about him. The man leaned forward and whispered in his ear, and Henry heard the unmistakable ring of truth.

In that moment he thought he might have preferred a dagger to the heart. It would have been far less painful to simply die at the end of a highwayman’s blade than to agree to this. Either way, he would lose the most precious thing he had.

“Bargain struck.” Henry whispered bitterly, a tear winding its way down his cheek.

You’re doing your son a great service, Henry Drago.

The man even sounded earnest.

Henry started to say something, but even as he opened his mouth, darkness swirled around him. He slipped back into the empty chasms of sleep.

#

Morning greeted Aleksei gently, rousing him from a dreamless oblivion. It had taken him hours to finally find some rest, and his relief was immeasurable when he woke without encountering the specter of the green-eyed man. His wish had been granted. The man was gone.

He made his way down the narrow stairway and walked into the kitchen, frowning at what greeted him. Their rough wooden table was laid out with provisions for what Aleksei could only guess was a journey.

But a journey where? His father hadn’t said anything about travel. There was still wood to chop and hay to store. The first snow might be weeks away, but there was no telling when the winds would usher in the chill of Northern air. Working outside in the cold was not something he, nor any farmer, relished.

“I see you’re up.” Henry said from behind. Aleksei jumped.

He turned, “Da, where are we going? I thought we were going to finish the hay this morning.”

His father shook his head and smiled, though Aleksei caught the deep sadness in Henry’s eyes. “We aren’t going anywhere, Son. You are.”

Aleksei frowned, “Me? But I thought—”

His father tried to hold the smile, but it was forced, “You’re needed, Son. In the North.”

Aleksei thought his heart would stop. He forgot to breathe. He could hardly process what his father had just said.

You know the truth he speaks, Aleksei.

Aleksei fought back a sob of frustration. He thought he’d freed himself of the damned voice, but now he knew the truth. He would never be free from it. It would hound him until the end of his days, or until it drove him mad, whichever came first.

Or until you simply do as I ask.

“Why?” he finally managed.

His father looked out the kitchen window, and Aleksei followed his gaze. Dash waited patiently outside, a saddle fitted snugly about his muscular frame.

“Because you’re needed, Son. It’s the only answer I can give you.”

“I’m not needed here, Da? Don’t you need me?”

Henry bit back the pain in his voice, “You are more of a help than I can say, Aleksei, and I love you dearly. But no, I don’t need you. Not like this. If you stayed here, you’d be wasting something…extraordinary. And honestly, I think you’d know it too. They need you in the North, Son. And their need is much more important than mine.”

Aleksei stood there, stunned by what his father was saying to him. And then the questions came pouring forth. What did Henry mean by ‘extraordinary’? What had his father learned? What was still being kept from him?

“And I’m sorry I can’t give you the answers you want, Son. But I think you know who can. Find him.”

“But how can I….” Aleksei began, fighting back the tears springing into his eyes.

“You’re strong, Aleksei. You’ve always been strong. That won’t fail you now.”

Henry swallowed back his own tears and tried to smile again, “Now you’d better get on the road. The sooner you get beyond the Southern Plain, the better. You don’t want to be riding under the Harvest sun too long if you can help it.”

“But where am I going?” Aleksei cried, his voice breaking. It was happening too fast. His life was slipping through his fingers moment by moment and there was nothing he could do about it.

“North, Son. North. You’ll know where you’re headed as you get closer. That’s all I know to tell you.”

Aleksei looked into his father’s eyes and saw the sadness, the regret that burned within him. His father wanted to know just as badly as he, to know just what sort of place he was so blindly sending his son.

Finally, after a long silence, Aleksei nodded. “Alright, Da. If you want me to go, then I’ll go.”

“I’ll never want you to go, Son.” Henry whispered, his face contorting with pain. He had already lost his wife, and now he was losing his son, too. Aleksei would still be alive, but he would be so far away.

“But promise me something, Aleksei.”

Aleksei nodded, “Anything, Da."

“If you find this place and if it’s not what you want, what you need, promise me you’ll come back. Even if this isn’t what you want either, at least we can figure that out together.”

Aleksei finally allowed a tear to wind its way down his cheek, “I promise, Da.”

Henry stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around his son, hugging him as close as he could, as though any moment Aleksei might turn to mist and vanish forever. Henry stepped back and managed a sardonic smile. Aleksei might remain solid as stone, but surely enough he was about to vanish.

#

Henry didn’t watch his son ride away. In truth, he couldn’t bear it. As long as he’d never seen Aleksei leave he could always pretend the boy was out in the barn, or by the pond he’d swum in as a child. It was a good hour before Henry allowed himself to sit down in his chair and sob.


Author Bio

Nicholas McIntire

Critically-acclaimed author Nicholas McIntire has been writing fantasy since he was 8 years old. The bones of the Archanium Codex were first created when he was 16, and in the past 20 years, he has taken that initially simple idea and crafted it into a fully realized world, finished the sequel, earned three degrees (one in Russian, Eastern European Studies, two in Nursing), and lived life to its fullest. Now writing full-time, Nicholas is ready for share is vision of the Archanium Codex, a 10 book series. The first book of the series being The Hunter's Gambit.

Nicholas, lives in Fort Worth, Texas, but writes in both Fort Worth and Fort Davis, TX, where his family has a small place situated at 5200 feet in the Davis Mountains - and, yes, Texas does have mountains.

Author Website: https://www.nickmcintire.com/

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/NGMcIntire/

Author Twitter: @nickmcintire

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17088295.Nicholas_McIntire

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Nicholas-McIntire/e/B07X7D7CH6

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Review: Just Like This (Albin Academy #2) by Cole McCade

Rian Falwell has a problem.

And his name is Damon Louis.


Rian’s life as the art teacher to a gaggle of displaced boys at Albin Academy should be smooth sailing—until the stubborn, grouchy football coach comes into his world like a lightning strike and ignites a heated conflict that would leave them sworn enemies if not for a common goal.

A student in peril. A troubling secret. And two men who are polar opposites but must work together to protect their charges.

They shouldn’t want each other. They shouldn’t even like each other.

Yet as they fight to save a young man from the edge, they discover more than they thought possible about each other—and about themselves.

In the space between hatred, they find love.

And the lives they have always wanted…

Just like this.



Taking place at the same exalted boarding school for mostly rich, privileged young boys as seen in Just Like That, this story now focuses on football coach Damon, and art teacher Rian. As per the blurb, when a mutual student seems to be going astray by not fulfilling academic and sport commitments, it brings these two complete opposites together, forcing them to work towards a common goal, each challenging and pushing buttons that incite and inflame.

For McCade fans, don’t fret. This is still wrought with an angsty push pull and an antagonistic back and forth, all with an inner turmoil to lend some heady gravitas. The interactions between Damon and Rian are wrought with personal fears and insecurity, and one step forward is annihilated by too much overthinking and misinterpretation of rashly said assumptions. Again, all the words add an atmospheric touch to the minutiae, heavy in the weight of hangups and baggage.

However, my poor ferret brain has come to the conclusion that for now, this series is just not for me. Whether it’s the lush descriptions of these two’s physical attributes and reactions, their complex warring feelings, or the intimate joining they ultimately accomplish, this was too deconstructed into every single detail imaginable, testing my impatient self. I need to get to the nitty gritty, I need the story to be propelled forward, and it seemed like the verbosity, the too many self and externally imposed obstacles kept these two teachers on the sidelines watching and waiting for the other shoe to drop, not only in their romance, but with the student they were concerned with as well.

Reassuringly, this is still well written and highly romantic (with a lovely epilogue) just like the first book. I’m confident many will find this an interesting enemies to lovers dynamic as each MC with their painful pasts and deep buried longings, slowly shed their preconceived notions of the other and make a connection.

Again, I could appreciate this for what it was in all the descriptive nuances. If you crave that, if you enjoy it, then this is an absolute must. I’m just left unsure if this author’s other works can personally keep me captivated as much as I would like them to, as so far for me, less would’ve definitely been more.





Blog Tour + Giveaway: The Demon in Business Class by Anthony Dobranski

 

Author Anthony Dobranski and Other Worlds Ink host today's tour stop for The Demon in Business Class. Read more about the urban fantasy and enter in the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway!

 

The Demon in Business Class - Anthony Dobranski

Anthony Dobranski has a new urban fantasy book out: "The Demon in Business Class." And there's a giveaway:

She can speak all languages. He can smell evil intent.

They're enemies. They crave each other.

With secret magic, international settings, a conspiracy plot, and star-crossed lovers, The Demon in Business Class is a stylish modern fantasy spanning continents and genres.

A shady executive hires Zarabeth Battrie to help start the next global war, giving her a demon that speaks all languages. But other people know more about her job than she does...

A resolute investigator recruits Gabriel Archer to use his emerging psychic powers, for a visionary leader who turns others from evil. As his senses develop, his doubts grow...

When the two meet by chance in Scotland, passion becomes fragile love, until the demon’s betrayal drives Gabriel away. Before Zarabeth’s revenge destroys the visionary’s plan, Gabriel must stop her — for both to survive, neither can win.

Fans of Jeff VanderMeer, David Mitchell and Michel Faber will love this cross-genre novel with crisp literary style. The Demon in Business Class is an international story of fantasy, intrigue, and love, on the uneasy ground where the human meets the divine.

YOUR NEXT READ IS NOW BOARDING

"If William Gibson wrote paranormal .... weaves the dark worlds of the occult and big business into an intoxicating tale." – D. J. Butler, author of Witchy Eye

"Creative spark? Anthony Dobranski ignites a creative bonfire ...A masterwork of invention." – Mary Kay Zuravleff, author of Man Alive!

"A swank cocktail of international intrigue, steeped in the supernatural, mixed with literary flair .... so sleek it flies off the page." – Zach Powers, author of First Cosmic Velocity

Warnings: FOR ADULTS! Drugs, fistfights, vigorous sex, murder, an orgy (witnessed), a cult, and a (told not shown) history of child sexual abuse.

Publisher | Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Liminal Fiction | Universal Buy Link | Goodreads


Giveaway

Anthony is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour. Enter via Rafflecopter:

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Excerpt

The Demon in Business Class - Anthony Dobranski

Chapter 1 - Washington, DC

In the fake-oak-paneled conference room, Zarabeth Battrie found a dozen others standing. All looked wilted and worn, with bunched shirts and bowing ankles. The plastic tables were gone, the plastic chairs stacked in the corner. More people arrived but no one unstacked the chairs. A herd instinct, Zarabeth decided, to keep a clear path for fleeing.

A natty beige man in a crisp blue plaid suit came in, pushing a low gray plastic cart with stacks of documents. If the standing people surprised him, he didn't show it. With practiced ease he lowered the room's screen, plugged in his powerstrip. Someone passed the documents around but no one spoke. In the silence, Zarabeth felt anxieties around her, about money, status, children, groping her like fevered predictable hands. Too intimate, these people's worries in her skin when she didn't know their names, or want to. She shook them off, pushed through to the front so as not to stare at men's backs all meeting.

Projector light bleached the natty man while he talked through slides of sunsets and bullet points, with the real news a seeming afterthought. Her office and two others were merging with Optimized Deployments, in Boston. A great move. Efficiency for all. The animated org-chart realigned over and over, three squares gone and Optimized’s no bigger. Reorganized like a stomach does food.

People asked tired questions, their hot worry now clammy hope. The natty man smiled no matter what he said. Yes, redundancies. Jobs would move, details to work out. All would be well and better.

He left to spread his joy. The room lights rose.

Zarabeth’s boss, Aleksei Medev, slouched in the corner like someone had whacked his head with lumber. His unshaven olive skin hung gray and limp. With all eyes on him, he straightened.

“A very challenging time,” he said. “We’re sending reports to justify -- to guide the transition. Client work is secondary.”

Zarabeth was in no hurry to fill out Aleksei’s useless reports. Nothing she had done in the last two months justified keeping her employed, she knew that. She went out the broken fire exit to a stand of pine trees behind the parking lot. She lit a cigarette, paced in the shade.

Once, Zarabeth Battrie had traveled the country as an Inspiration Manager, connecting the best people at Straightforward Consulting to an in-house knowledge network. She had good instincts which managers to flatter, which to cow, which to sneak past. It surprised her how much she understood when she finally got her quarry to talk their special arcana, over morning jogs, lobster lunches, steak dinners, midnight hookahs with shots of tequila. Later, on airplanes, she’d think of those and other conversations, watching the pieces fit together in this strange unity and balloon, her world growing with a drug-like jolt. To let her do that, week in week out -- taking off, landing, on the move, on her feet -- had been the greatest praise.

On Valentine’s Day, it had evaporated without explanation. Zarabeth had been reassigned to Reston, in the Virginia suburbs, to do public-relations grunt-work for industry trade groups. Aleksei Medev, still shiny then, had put his feet on her new desk and spun a great tale, core knowledge toward a turnkey marketing solution, select team deep study. At least she got an office with a door.

Zarabeth had visited Boston twice in her old job. Optimized had smart people and kept them by being greedy. They would suck the money from her division like marrow from bone. Everyone fired, no matter how they danced.

Doubt ate through her like some parasite come to lay its eggs. She pinched the cigarette’s cherry to burn it off with pain. Six years at this firm would not end this week.

#

Zarabeth sublet a furnished apartment in Foggy Bottom, facing west and the Potomac River. She had chosen it for the balcony view and the location near the highway, but she didn’t like the place much. The heavy dark furniture and metallic abstract art looked good at night, but menacing in morning shadow and grim in afternoon sun. Some days Zarabeth fantasized trashing it, taking a sledgehammer to the whole gloomy aquarium. This was a good day for that.

But Missy Devereaux was there, watching TV, in new red hair, her dirty bare feet on the coffee table.

“Hey, sugar,” Missy said, in her perky Kentucky accent. “Want some wine?”

“Get your bow legs off my table,” Zarabeth said. “When did you go ginger?”

“Do you love it?” Missy muted the sound. “I love it. Gramma hates it. Do you love it?”

A year ago, Missy Devereaux had been a Straightforward legislative liaison, frost-blonde hair and pricey suits, working her congressman daddy’s contact list. Now on the ground floor of Missy’s Georgetown mansion, her grandmother died slowly of bone cancer. Missy came to Zarabeth’s place as a retreat, a chance to smoke without blowing up the oxygen tanks. In return Missy watered the plants and filled the wine rack. It was a good arrangement, most days.

“It’s great.” Zarabeth went to her bedroom. She wiped off her makeup, washed her face with cold water. Her copper skin looked flushed. Small zits on her forehead. Twenty-seven, and she still broke out. She turned from the mirror so as not to smash it.

Missy came with a glass of white. “Three hours ’til the nurse leaves. You want dinner?”

Zarabeth shook with fury. “I so don’t deserve this.”

“I know, sugar-pea. I know.”

“The fuck you know, witch?”

Missy’s eyes flashed, from blue to bright green. Like the unlocking of a cage.

Zarabeth backed down. She checked herself by punching her palm repeatedly. “Fuck me! Fucking fuck.”

“You just relax,” Missy said. Maybe to herself too. Her eyes blue again, at least. She pulled a joint from behind her ear. “Drink and smoke. I’m ordering food. Lamb kebab with fries, right?” She closed the door.


Author Bio

Anthony Dobranski

Anthony Dobranski is a native of Washington DC. He studied English Literature at Yale and made his first career working internationally for AOL. His first novel is the cross-genre modern fantasy The Demon in Business Class. He also created Business Class Tarot, a modern Tarot deck inspired by his novel. He is a member of SFWA, and serves on the board of The Inner Loop, a Washington DC live-reading series. He lives in Washington now with his family. He loves to ski.

Author Website: https://www.anthonydobranski.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/adobranski

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/DobranskiAuthor

Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/DobranskiAuthor

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/DobranskiAuthor

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16045663.Anthony_Dobranski

Author Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/anthony-dobranski/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B06Y3J151X

LOGO - Other Worlds Ink

Release Blitz: Lacuna by N.R. Walker


Author N.R. Walker has a new fantasy romance, Lacuna! Find out more about the enemies to lovers tale today!

Lacuna | NR Walker


Genre:
LGBT Fantasy/Gay Fiction

Release date: October 23, 2020

Tropes: Enemies-to-lovers, action and adventure, swords and sorcery, romance

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/Lacuna

Synopsis:

A boychild swathed in green, a distinct tree-shaped birthmark on his wrist. A girlchild enveloped in red, marked with the three lines of the desert winds. A boy bundled in white, the koi mark on his wrist as defined as his shock of red hair. And a boychild wrapped in black, a raven his mark to serve his fate.

* * *

Twenty-five years ago, the hand of fate marked four newborns and sent them to the four corners of the Great Kingdoms. They were schooled and trained as rulers of their lands in preparation for the Golden Eclipse ceremony: a festival to celebrate a thousand years of peace and prosperity since the Great War.

Crow, ruler of Northlands, a skilled swordsman and expert tactician, is as reclusive and stoic as the mountains that surround him.

Tancho has spent his life in strict discipline, governing the Westlands with a fair mind and gentle hand. Quiet and unassuming, yet lethal in combat, he is the embodiment of the waters he lives by.

Yet the same hand of fate unknowingly linked Tancho to Crow in ways they cannot comprehend. Ruled by the stars, the Brother Sun and the two Sister Moons above them, and marked by an alchemical sorcery as old as time, their destinies were never their own.

As the eclipse draws near and the festival begins, word comes of another threat. Invaders from unknown lands bring a war no one was prepared for, and Crow and Tancho must decide on which side of the battle line they stand.

In life or death, their destinies will see them joined either way.

Excerpt:

Chapter One

The winter sun was at high noon, shining a spotlight on the two men sword-fighting in the open courtyard of the Northlands’ castle. Mirroring the rocky outcrops in the snowy landscape, black flags marked with a single white raven shimmered in the cool winds. Dark grey stone bricks gleamed as the sunlight turned icy frost into fleeting jewels, and the clang of metal on metal, grunts of effort, and bouts of laughter echoed skyward.

The broadsword grazed Crow’s cheek, the burn of sliced skin and a warm trickle of blood down his cheek made him smile. Soko paused for the briefest moment, horrified that he had struck his king. Crow used the moment of distraction and swung for his neck. Soko parried, and with another bark of laughter, the fight went on.

Plumes of steam escaped with every exhale, sweat cooled on heated skin. Crow’s dark hair was damp and clung to his pale face; his dark eyes sparkled with delight as they always did when he sparred with Soko. Friends since childhood, Crow trusted no one as he trusted Soko. Surrounded by consuls and guards and staff who abided by his every whim, he could count on Soko for his honesty and reason. He told him truths when no one else dared, and he never held back when they fenced or sparred, such as they were doing now.

Crow was bound by responsibility and duty, as kings often were. Even as a small boy, Crow had studied the ancient ways, the lore of his ancestors of the Northlands. Studied, trained, studied, trained when he’d have rather done anything else, and yet it was Soko who had willingly stood beside him. Brothers, even if there was not one drop of shared blood between them.

Soko’s hair was ashen blond and shaggy, his eyes blue and sharp. He had a smile of mischief and wit, a keen mind for learning and a keener eye for women, whereas Crow was dark and brooding, and his eye was drawn to the forms of men. Soko was free to act upon his impulses and there had never been a shortage of satisfied women in the Northlands’ castle, yet Crow had never been free.

Who wears the mark bears the crown . . .

Bound by responsibility and duty. And the birthmark on his wrist. Even the mere thought of it . . .

He hissed at the pain and dropped his sword, pulling at the leather wrist guard, fumbling to get the straps undone.

“What is it?” Soko asked, immediately concerned. “It itches still?”

“No,” Crow breathed. He finally pulled the guard from his arm and covered the birthmark with his cold fingers. “It burns.”

“Burns? What the—”

Just then, the heavy wooden doors to the courtyard swung inward. Soko spun into a ready stance with his sword raised to protect Crow, without fault, without question. The young messenger raised his hands in alarm, breathing hard, his eyes trained on the blade.

“What is it?” Soko demanded.

“Excuse me, my lord,” the messenger said, bowing his head to Crow. “A lone rider comes. At pace.”

A lone rider coming to the city was not uncommon. Villagers traded food and wares all the time. “What of it?” Crow asked, still clutching his wrist. “Why the urgency?”

The messenger swallowed hard. “The rider and horse bear the yellow flag of the Elders’ Consul.”

Soko lowered his sword and turned to Crow, his eyes wide and face ashen, for it could only mean one thing.

The birthmark on Crow’s wrist continued to burn.

* * *

Dressed now in warmer clothes, Crow and Soko stood at one of the grand hall windows watching as the yellow-clad rider made his way through the gates of the castle. Crow had his guards meet the man, one taking his horse, one escorting the rider inside, out of view, knowing it would take several minutes for the rider to be brought to see him.

Crow held his wrist, trying to ignore the burn.

“It’s never caused you pain before,” Soko noted. “And I don’t think a visit from the Elders’ Consul is a coincidence.”

Crow winced again and Soko took his hand, inspecting the birthmark. It looked as it always had; dark against his pale skin, oddly beautiful and abstract, the clear form of a raven in full flight, its wings outstretched. The mark which showed Crow’s predestined fate appeared no different; though it had begun to itch at the last full moons, now it burned like fire ants crawling beneath his skin.

Crow tugged his hand away and pulled down his coat sleeve. “I’m fine, and make no mention of it in front of company.”

After a brief pause, Soko sighed. “It’s time, isn’t it? That’s what this means? The festival draws near.”

Crow gave a nod before the sound of approaching footsteps put an end to this conversation. The two heavy doors opened and a guard appeared and bowed his head. “My lord, messenger of the Elders’ Consul.”

He stepped aside and the visitor strode forward. He wore the Consul’s yellow tunic under a heavy coat of the same colour, with the four-pointed compass rose emblazoned upon his chest. He appeared slightly dishevelled and tired, though he bowed his head. He produced a scroll from inside his coat pocket and offered it to Crow. “My lord.”

Crow took the paper from him but did not open it. “Your name?”

“Roulant,” he replied quickly.

“You’ve ridden far.”

“Six days.”

It was perhaps a seven- or eight-day ride to the Elders’ Consul temple, and the ride itself was not an easy one. Northlands was mountainous, rocky roads, and deep snow; hard and brutal land, almost as hard and brutal as the men and women who called it home. Given this rider had done it in six days meant there was urgency. “You rode alone?”

“Yes, my lord. Four riders sent to the four quarters.”

The Great Kingdoms had long ago been divided into four quarters. North, of mountains and snow. West, of oceans and rivers. East, of jungles and forests, and South of desert sands and dunes. At its centre, was the Aequi Kentron; a huge moated temple of sorts, where the Elders’ Consul presides, upholding the law of the four lands and keeping score.

Formed a thousand years ago after the Great War, nine high priests protected the ancient ways and traditions, ensuring laws remained unbroken and territory borders intact. They overlooked the trade between kingdoms and ensured fairness at every turn, and the last thousand years had been peaceful and prosperous.

Steeped in history and tradition, and by definition the equal centre, Aequi Kentron was the heart of all four kingdoms.

Each of the four rulers was chosen at birth by the birthmark on their wrist. They would each rule their lands independently and in their own right, with their own laws and governance, yet there were some laws they could not ignore.

The law that stated when each ruler was beckoned, they would come.

The law was written when the Consul was established, that when the Brother Sun and the two Sister Moons aligned at the equinox, they would partake in the Festival of the Eclipse. They would abide with honour and with the dignity of the rank they held.

Crow was proud of his title, proud of his people, and he would lay his life down for his kingdom. And he should have been proud to be the chosen one in the time of the eclipse. Once every thousand years and it happened in his lifetime, his rule. Yet destiny was a weight like no other, and unease filled his belly for reasons he couldn’t put name to. The fact his birthmark now caused him pain was one he couldn’t ignore, and now with the news from Aequi Kentron, it could only mean one thing.

His time was now.

Realisation skittered down Crow’s spine like a cold spider. So, it was time. Every arrow of his life was pointed to this. He gave a reluctant nod and turned to the guard. “See this man to hot food and warm quarters, and see that his horse is tended to.”

Roulant’s gaze shot up to Crow’s. “My lord, I am thankful.”

“As am I.” Crow gave him a smile. “Eat and rest as you need.”

Roulant gave another nod of gratitude, and he was escorted out by the guard. Soko waited patiently as Crow held the scroll. There was a wax seal atop the Consul’s writing in old calligraphy ink.

King of Northlands

Crow slid his finger beneath the seal and unrolled the thick paper. At the centre top was the Consul’s four-pointed compass rose stamped in blue ink. The writing was impeccably neat, the strokes delivered with such importance not even the ink dared to bleed.

Your Royal Highness, King Crow of Northlands,

The Eclipse befalls on the Equinox in your twenty-fifth year.

Your attendance is formally requested at the Aequi Kentron one week before the Equinox, for the festival of the Golden Age.

We eagerly await your arrival.

Crow read it again, then handed it to Soko who read it, frowning. “What does this mean?”

Crow stared out the window at the snow-covered valley below, at how the blackened rocky crags tore raggedly through the serene whiteness looking like open claw marks in flesh.

“I ride for Aequi Kentron in two days,” Crow replied.

Soko’s eyes hardened. “You will not ride alone.”

Crow almost smiled at that. “I didn’t think I would.”

“And the eclipse?”

“A golden sun for a golden age,” he replied with a sigh, turning back to stare out the window. “My birthright is finally upon me.”

Soko’s voice was quiet, as though he dreaded to hear what he already knew. “What will you do?”

Crow took a long moment to answer. Was it fear or dread? Acceptance or resignation? “My choice in this was long ago removed,” he murmured, finally meeting Soko’s eyes. “I will attend their festival, and when all the fanfare and nonsense is done, I will return as if nothing has occurred.”

“It’s supposed to be a celebration,” Soko replied. “Yet it hangs over you like a dark cloud.”

Crow sighed. He would have quite happily been left alone for all his days, but this felt different. This felt ominous and he couldn’t explain why. “True metal does not fear the furnace,” he murmured.

It was a favoured Northlands saying, cited by the miners who dug ore from frozen mountains and by the blacksmiths who turned it into steel.

Yet Crow feared . . . something. He feared this festival and ceremony; he feared the change he felt would rise with the golden sun. He feared the unknown.

And he feared the greasy dread in his belly and the burn on his wrist that told him his life was about to change forever.


 

N.R. Walker Bio

N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.

She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.

She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.

She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.

She’s been writing ever since…

Keep up with everything NR Walker here:https://smart.bio/nrwalkerauthor/

Series Tour: Desire (Books #1 - 5) by Ty Debauchee

 Author Ty Debauchee and Gay Book Promotions promote erotica series, Desire (#1-5)! Check it out today!



SERIES REVIEW TOUR 


Desire by Ty Debauchee 

PERFECT FRICTION LEADS TO PERFECT PLEASURE! 

Gorgeous Garrett fills Ty’s heart with love once again. Loneliness is subverted by soulmate love! 

When Garrett encounters an extremely embarrassing situation in the boys' basketball locker room, his teammates begin hazing him mercilessly. Ty steps forward to protect Garrett, and a lasting friendship and love affair begins. 

As always with Ty Debauchee books, you will find yourself turning the pages rapidly and adjusting yourself in preparation for what happens next. Just try not to make a mess. 

Overall Heat Rating for the series: 5 flames 

The stories, books and series, are progressive and best read in order. 

These books are unique in that they have an interesting photograph at the beginning of each chapter to set the stage for the story. 

The series will comprise of 8 books. The fifth book was published on September 15, 2020.

BOOK 1


Book Title: Abs Lust Embarrassment: Desire #201

Length: 10 800 words / 56 pages 

Release Date: July 17, 2020

Genre/s: Fiction > M/M Gay > Romance > Erotica

Trope/s: Homophobic Hazing

Themes: Coming out, Homophobic Hazing, Bullying




Buy Links - Free Read





Blurb 

PERFECT FRICTION LEADS TO PERFECT PLEASURE! 

Endowed and proud, Garrett walks through the locker room toward the shower. Oddly, he briefly feels guilty for so enjoying his girlfriend's bragging about how blessed he is. Suddenly, he is betrayed by his number one asset.

A frenzy of unhinged harassment and gay bashing ensues! The high school basketball team is showering after their first win when Garrett becomes aroused. It's an embarrassing disaster! In that instant, Garrett's life changes forever.

As Ty looks on, he must decide whether to stay on the side lines or join with the homophobic mob to hide his own secret. Garrett's crisis now looms as a dramatic force to change Ty's life. How will Garrett and Ty survive the frenzied torment of merciless homophobic teammates?

A simple act of human compassion leads both to a revelation of closely held personal perspectives, secrets, and carnal desires. Will they soon share more than just their intimate secrets?

This book contains explicit scenes of a gay sexual nature by consenting characters who are over 18 years of age. It is intended only for readers who are 18+ years of age. If you are underage or may be offended by this topic, do not purchase this book.

 


BOOK 2

Book Title: Abs Lust Snowmen Play Naked: Desire #202

Length: 20 750 words / 94 pages

Release Date: July 17, 2020

Genre/s: Fiction > M/M Gay > Romance > Erotica

Trope/s: Homophobic Hazing

Themes: Coming out, Homophobic Hazing, Gay Love, Bullying




Buy Links - Free Read





Blurb 

SO HOT IT WILL MAKE YOUR CARROT GROW! 

Although acquainted for several years, Ty and Garrett only recently came to know each other. Why had Ty never realized how adorable Garrett is? Now Ty can't take his eyes off of him.

Everyone knows blizzards are great for snowmen and sex! Garrett loves the snow and becomes truly giddy when the first flakes fly. The biggest blizzard of their lives traps Garrett and Ty alone at Garrett's house. Garrett hopes the storm will provide a perfect opportunity for Ty to help him explore his gay urges, as well as learn a few tricks.

Garrett's big questions are whether he is straight, bi, or gay and once he knows, will he tell the world or keep it to himself?

Will Ty satisfy Garrett's erotic urning?

This book contains explicit scenes of a gay sexual nature by consenting characters who are over 18 years of age. It is intended only for readers who are 18+ years of age. If you are underage or may be offended by this topic, do not purchase this book.

     

BOOK 3


Book Title: Abs Lust Homework: Desire #203

Length: 19 100 words / 87 pages

Release Date: August 1, 2020

Genre/s: Fiction > M/M Gay > Romance > Erotica

Trope/s: Homophobic Hazing, Abusive Father

Themes: Coming out, Homophobic Hazing, Finding Self Confidence, Gay Love, Bullying




Buy Links





Blurb 

EVERYTHING IS MORE FUN NAKED! ESPECIALLY HOMEWORK!

You never know what might be considered HOMEWORK. Sign up for the most erotic tutoring sessions ever!

Who could be motivated to study if your dad perpetually told you that you are too dimwitted to succeed? In spite of Garrett's brilliance, he genuinely believes he is stupid. 

Who could be motivated to succeed in school when each day is a gauntlet of homophobic hazing by the school bully and your ex-girlfriend? Garrett just wants to curl up and disappear.

Consequently, Garrett is doing poorly in his high school classes and failing in Algebra. Desperately afraid his poor grades will bench him from the basketball team, Garrett still shows no interest in Ty's offer to tutor him. Garrett knows he is a lost cause and tutoring will just be frustrating and painful. No Thanks!!!

However, Ty believes the best homework motivator is your boyfriend's anatomy. Can Ty's use Strip Algebra and Algebra For Sex to tease out excellence? You want this book in your library. Someday, you just might need Ty's lustful manipulations.

This book contains explicit scenes of a gay sexual nature by consenting characters who are over 18 years of age. It is intended only for readers who are 18+ years of age. If you are underage or may be offended by this topic, do not purchase this book.

 

BOOK 4


Book Title: Abs Lust Bare Rejection: Desire #204

Length: 22 400 words / 95 pages

Release Date: September 1, 2020

Genre/s: Fiction > M/M Gay > Romance > Erotica

Trope/s: Homophobic Hazing

Themes: Coming out, Gay Love, Homophobic Hazing, Bullying, Abusive Father




Buy Links





Blurb 

NAKED, COLD, NUMB - WANDERING, STUMBLING, LOST, ALL ALONE! HELP ME TY!


Ty's parents reveal insights he never suspected. Is Garrett and Ty's secret at risk?

Hank, Garrett's father, cites Garrett's sexual orientation as reason to throw him out of the house. Garrett struggles to survive nude in frigid weather. Where is Ty when Garrett desperately needs him? 

How long before Garrett dies of exposure and hypothermia?

By not dealing with Hank decisively, Ty makes a costly error destined to haunt the boys for a lifetime. So Ty must put everything on the line to save Garrett and his handsome nurse from Hank's wrath. But in whose bed will Ty sleep? Will Ty's love be lost forever?

This book contains explicit scenes of a gay sexual nature by consenting characters who are over 18 years of age. It is intended only for readers who are 18+ years of age. If you are underage or may be offended by this topic, do not purchase this book.

 

BOOK 5


Book Title: Abs Lust Prom: Desire #205

Length: 19 200 words 

Release Date: September 15, 2020

Genre/s: Fiction > M/M Gay > Romance > Erotica

Trope/s: Homophobic Hazing

Themes: Gay Love, Homophobic Hazing, Public Exhibition Caught




Buy Links




Blurb 

PLAY NAKED! MAYBE YOU’LL GET CAUGHT!


Prom night essentials for great sex include a super HOT boyfriend with great abs, a great tush, sexy feet, stunning smile, and tantalizingly erotic tux attire.

Ty desperately wants to take Garrett to the prom as his date, but neither wants to be out to classmates. This year's prom needs to be special, so Garrett manipulates this event in their favor.

Special T-shirts with favorite sayings enhance the mood. Find yourself on the edge of your seat doing your best to ease your desires as Garrett allows Ty to relive what now seems like a wet dream premonition from a past…

This book contains explicit scenes of a gay sexual nature by consenting characters who are over 18 years of age. It is intended only for readers who are 18+ years of age. If you are underage or may be offended by this topic, do not purchase this book.




Excerpt - Abs Lust Snowmen Play Naked: Desire #202

(Please note that each chapter begins with an illustrative photo)

 


Chapter 2

“Shouldn’t we put on swimming suits and get a shirt or something to go out there?” He asked as he flipped a red switch.

“Absolutely not! Why put on clothes and then have to take them off when we get out there?”

“Lights?” He asked.

“Absolutely not! We need privacy, especially from your neighbors. So we need to be quiet also.”

Arms around each other’s waist, with rock hard pleasure wands leading the way like twin Rudolfs running side by side, we went dashing through the snow naked to the hot tub across 150 feet of grass lawn now covered with 14 inches of snow.

Fuuuck! Cold! Should have worn shoes! Nah, would have ruined the experience.

Garrett had the cover was off in seconds, as I ran over to hit the bubbler ‘Go’ switch. When I turned back toward the hot tub, the image of Garrett standing in the hot tub was breathtaking.

In each other’s arms, we were kissing deeply as we eased ourselves into the delightfully hot water.

I can’t stop kissing you. And having your soft hand wrapped around my hard on is something I definitely don’t want to end anytime soon either.

As my tongue slipped along his teeth and then tussled with his tongue in an attempt to figure out whose tongue got which space, I realized I couldn’t lose myself in this and just forget about his struggle. So I pulled back a bit and said, “I promised you a Magic Potion to make you feel better, so come over here.”

Pulling him to the side of the tub, I turned us sideways so a major jet was blowing between his back and my abs; but we were not far apart. The granite in my fully erect tool was resting comfortably in a vertical position against the small of his back.

Now the potion begins. Let’s see if you notice.

With both hands I began to massage Garrett’s trapezius muscles. Using my thumbs, I worked the muscles from their origins in his neck, and down to their insertions on his scapulae. As I encountered knotted up trigger points in the muscles, I focused on those with my thumbs, working to get those fibers to release and relax.

I couldn’t hear all of his moans of pleasure over the noise of the bubbling hot tub, but some got through. Between his sound effects and feeling him relax back against my chest, I was pretty sure I was helping him to destress and feel better.

The snow was still falling hard, so the hot tub was steaming intensely, and the snow was collecting heavily on our hair. I couldn’t resist licking some of the snow off of him. If he wasn’t so upset, it would have been the perfect moment to nail his cute little tush; but I decided I should wait.

I just hope the massage is helping you to feel better.

“Your magic is amazing! Thank you, Mr. Magician.”

I couldn’t resist shifting my snow licking of his hair to licking and kissing his neck. As I did, he tilted his head to give me easier access to his neck and shoulder. Now my hand on his right shoulder was a little in the way, so I discretely slid it down over his shoulder and under his arm allowing my Magic Fingers to tease his nipple.

While I continued to kiss his neck, I caressed down his abs and took ahold of his rigid monster. I began stroking it up and down, and he turned his head toward me as much as possible as his eyes lit up.

“How do you feel? You like my magic? Do you want to see some more?”

“Ohhh… fuuuck… I love your magic,” he said with the smile which had been missing, “show me all you’ve got. Please!”

We started kissing deeply again, and I turned him so he was sitting sideways in my lap. My left hand continued to massage his neck, and my right hand was slowly stroking his rigid shaft as we kissed passionately. You would have thought we had just met.

Well, I guess we sorta did just meet for real last night.

Suddenly he put his hand on my hand stopping my stroke and said, “I’m close.”

“Not me.”

He thought I meant I wasn’t stroking him, then he suddenly realized I needed some attention as well. He started to stroke me but the position was awkward, so we moved around until we were facing each other with the water jet blowing across our stomachs. Then Garrett went back to stroking me as we kissed.

The snow continued to fall, and I was amazed at how stunningly beautiful Garrett was with the snow in his moussed up hair. By then I had caught up in the game we were playing, so I decided to squeeze in even closer to him.

His legs were over mine, our love wands were touching, and we were still kissing as Garrett wrapped his hand around both of our joy sticks. I moved Garrett’s hand up a little bit. Then I took a hold of both of our shafts below his hand while interlacing my pointer finger with his pinky in sort of a golf club grip.

“Hug me and hold us together while together we provide the stroking magic for both of us,” then we began stroking in a frottage position which felt amazing to me. Garrett had his eyes closed and was quivering with pleasure as well.

“Please look at me and kiss me when we bust.”

“I’m close.”

“Me too!”

In a matter of seconds, we were both quaking, spasming, and convulsing in the throws of orgasmic bliss.

I looked into his eyes and kissed him as we both came at the same time. It was yet another special moment for me, but more importantly, it was the first time I felt an incredible emotional lightning bolt surge through me from being with Garrett.

Fuuuck! There is no doubt, I’m in love with you. But I can’t tell you how I feel. I’m such a dumbass. Do I have to fall in love with every cute guy I meet?

It’s harder to be subtle with those final strokes in the water of the hot tub, so we gave up on trying to stretch out our mutual orgasms any longer. Instead, we both just wrapped our arms around each other in another tight embrace.

“Thank you!”

“Dude, it was awesome for me too!”

And we continued to kiss, more softly now, more gently and slowly, but still feeling all of the passionate emotions and the beauty of a very special night.

Suddenly the hot tub bubbler shut off, “Damn!”

I always hate having to get out of the warmth of the tub to restart the bubbler.

But as the tub settled down and the noise went away, we became aware of this unusually serene silence created by the snow still falling heavily and absorbing all the ambient sound. It was a serenity I had always loved about snow, and I was loving it even more with Garrett in my arms.




About the Author

As an energetic man of 6’4” tall and 195 pounds of muscle, I very much enjoy athletic pursuits including basketball, waterskiing, and snow skiing. While having a quiet and shy personality, I value my integrity above all else with loyalty to my friends and family coming in as a very close second.

A small rural community at the edge of a midwestern metropolitan area in the center of the United States is where I grew up. So many aspects of that environment made it a wonderful place to live and definitely played a role in molding my character and principles. However, acceptance of individuals with a gay sexual orientation was not a widely supported virtue at the time.

Growing up with the stress of gay urges and desires in a straight world and struggling to find my place in the world, I frequently used my dreams and fantasies as an emotional crutch to get me through some very challenging times. By sharing these stories in my books, I sincerely hope to ease the stress of others who might face similar challenges and offer an entertaining escape for anyone in need.



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