Review: Under His Stiletto by K.A. Merikan

--- No discipline until you’ve had your greens! ---

Mike doesn’t like overcomplicating things. At thirty two, he’s nowhere near settling down and divides his time between his construction job and the pub. Then his life becomes everything but simple when his coworkers catcall the wrong person, and Mike ends up punished for it. Which doesn’t seem all that bad, since he loves punishment and discipline.

Loves it so much in fact, that he will do anything for more licks from the sexy crossdresser’s belt.

Living in a state of perfect domestic bliss where he does as he’s told, and in turn gets freshly baked cookies and his laundry done, lines blur all too quickly, and it might just be Momma not Mike who is skittish about relationships.

Despite all the hoops he has to jump through, nothing can scare Mike away, because he is a good boy and he will prove it no matter what punishments Momma has him endure!

Themes: commitment issues, discipline, crossdressing, role-play, dirty talk, punishments, identity, spanking, bullying
Genre: M/M contemporary romance, BDSM
Length: ~22,000 words (standalone story)

WARNING: Adult content that might be considered taboo role-play. Explicit content, strong language, discipline. Reader discretion advised.

Yes! This was utterly depraved and I loved it! Not because of the cross-dressing or the smaller Dom (that was just awesome!) but because of the role-playing….

Mike nuzzled her neck, squeezing her nipple through the fabric. “I get so horny at night, Momma. It’s all I can think about.”

Momma whimpered, briefly closing her eyes before glancing at him again. Her fingers squeezed harder around Mike’s wrist. “It’s been a long time since your daddy left us, Michael. And you can be so sweet. Why do you tempt me so?”

See! sooo kinky!

Despite the 'her’s’ in this scene Momma is in fact a man and describes himself as a full-time transvestite. It was very interesting hearing about his life and how he got to this stage in his life. Momma was a great character!

So why isn't this kinky little nugget a 5 heart read? Because of their weird relationship progression. I completely understood Momma and where he was coming from, but Mike was adamant about no relationship, (even when he stayed for the night… and never went home) until suddenly he wasn't. I just thought that part could have had a little something more.

Definitely give this a go if incest role-play doesn't squeak you out.

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Surprise Delivery (Hearts & Health #5) by D.J. Jamison

Celebrate the release of Surprise Delivery (Hearts & Health #5) with author D.J. Jamison and Signal Boost Promotions! Enter in the back list giveaway and learn more about the medical professions romance!

Length: 68,000 word approx

Hearts & Health Series


Dr. Casper Rollins knows how to have fun. The love of his life, Kage Myers, lived every moment to the fullest before he died. Now, Casper goes skydiving, mountain-climbing or on other adrenaline-soaked adventures when he wants to feel closer to his lost love.

Medical director Eric Holtz is married to his work -- so much so his husband left him. But when his niece shows up, pregnant and in need of an ally, Eric suddenly has family again. Unfortunately, her obstetrician, Casper Rollins, is sexy enough to turn Eric into a blushing adolescent.

What begins as a game to break Eric of his workaholic tendencies escalates into scorching sex and feelings that can't be ignored. Casper never planned to give his heart to anyone other than Kage, and Eric won't accept anything less.

If these two want a future, they'll have to embrace the lesson Kage taught Casper long ago: You only live once.


“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when you asked if I wanted to have fun,” Eric said, gasping for breath.

Casper laughed, one hand clutching his stomach and his other gripping Eric’s wrist and tugging. Eric was having just a bit more difficulty than Casper in climbing from the top of a trash bin to a tree to the roof of the downtown library.

Thankfully, dusk had fallen, and they were on the backside of the library, where they were less likely to be noticed. He’d never live it down if he was arrested for loitering on the roof of a public property. It was hardly the kind of publicity a medical director needed to generate.

Eric finally heaved himself onto the mostly flat, asphalt roof with Casper’s assistance. He dropped down on his back and stared at a sky painted with the pink and orange streaks of sunset. The sun, still a molten ball in the sky, dropped slowly behind puffy clouds that were beginning to look more like cotton candy, all pink and soft around the edges.

Casper settled beside him, crossing his arms under his head. “It’s worth it now, though, right?”

Unlike Eric, Casper had jumped from trash bin to tree to roof with the agility of a teenager. Lying as he was, with his arms folded behind his head, his triceps bulged. Eric found that a prettier sight than the sunset.

“You know, the hospital’s taller. I have a key to the roof. We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble and had a great view of the sunset.”

“You can just go up the stairwell and right onto the roof?”

“Yep,” Eric said, a bit smugly. “The helipad is up there, so there has to be access. It’s rare for us to receive a life flight, but it does happen.”

Casper made an obnoxious buzzing noise. “You’re venturing awfully close to shop talk, and besides, where’s the fun in walking up some stairs?”

Eric huffed a rueful laugh. “It’s more fun than a broken ankle.”

“No ankles were broken,” Casper chastised. “Now look at that gorgeous sky and enjoy yourself.”

Eric reached out and traced a blaze of orange inked on the pale skin of Casper’s bicep. “I’d rather look at this.”

Casper twitched, but he didn’t pull away. His head swiveled, light blue eyes fixing on Eric. “They always like the ink,” he murmured.

Eric flushed and pulled away. Turning his eyes back to the sky, which was less blinding than Casper’s beautiful body, he asked what he’d always wondered. “Do they mean something to you?”

“It’s artwork imprinted on my skin, so yeah, it means something to me.”

Eric risked a glance. “Of course.” He tried again. “But sometimes people get tattoos because they like the art. Other times, there’s a deeper symbolism in them.”

“You want to know the story behind my ink?”

Eric nodded, his eyes back on the swirls of color he could see on Casper’s bicep. As he watched, Casper grabbed the back of his T-shirt and peeled it up and over his head, dropping it into his lap.

Eric’s eyes roamed Casper’s body, taking in the paleness of his skin and the tautness of the muscle beneath it. Casper sat at an angle, turned with his shoulder toward Eric, so the vivid turquoise and orange of his tattoo captured Eric’s attention before he could get lost in a full study of the man’s body.

“It’s a lizard,” he said in surprise.

“A chameleon,” Casper said.

The chameleon clung to a branch that curved along the shape of Casper’s upper arm, blending in and out of leaves that wound around the image. The chameleon, where it was visible, was drawn in a bold style, with vivid hues setting it off from the parts of its body that vanished into the artwork. Large eyes and a wide grin imbued it with a personality, reminding Eric just a bit of the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland.

“It’s incredible,” Eric said, leaning closer to study it. The longer he looked, the more detail he could pick out, from subtly shaded scales to hints of the lizard behind the leaf work. “Chameleons change to match their surroundings, so what does this symbolize?”

“Mostly? Change. Both the ability to adapt to the changes in my life, but also the ability to be the change. Is that deep enough for you?”

Eric smiled. “Is your middle name Plato?”

Casper snorted as he grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

As Casper lowered the shirt, a hint of ink on his back caught Eric’s eye. He put out a hand to stop the lowering of Casper’s shirt, leaning to the side for a look. Casper’s back was as gorgeous as the rest of him, broad and tapering to his waist with a muscle definition Eric could never hope to replicate in his own body. Casper was doing something right, even if was working out at the gym religiously like any self-respecting gay man. Eric, quite obviously, didn’t respect his body as a temple, unless it was as a temple that had crumbled to a pile of rubble.

“What about this one?” he asked.

He could just make out what looked like a hoop with flames around it.

To his surprise, Casper shifted away and tugged his shirt down firmly. “I didn’t bring you up here to talk about all my tattoos.”

Casper’s tone was light and teasing, but his eyes were guarded, and Eric didn’t want to ruin what had been a fun outing with an interesting guy. So, he flirted.

“I was kind of hoping you brought me up here for more than a pretty sunset.”

Casper settled back onto his elbows, looking up at Eric with a genuine grin. “Is that right?”

Eric licked his lips nervously, looking at the perfect male body stretched out before him. Casper’s shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt, pulling it tight across his chest, and his jeans hugged his muscled thighs. Casper was without a doubt the most gorgeous man Eric had ever seen.

But it had been a long time since he’d made a move. Tentatively, he rested his hand on Casper’s stomach, feeling his ab muscles tighten at his light touch.

“Seems like a good make-out spot,” Eric said.

“Does it?” Casper asked with an impish grin. “Maybe we should test it out.”

“Definitely,” Eric said, before leaning in. “But fair warning? I’m out of practice.”

“It’s just like riding a bike,” Casper murmured before their lips met in a kiss. It was soft, sweet. Tentative, because Eric was too timid to plunge his tongue in and taste Casper, no matter how much he wanted that.

Eric lifted his head, needing a moment to get his bearings after his first kiss in far too long. “That’s not at all like riding a bike.”

Casper laughed, eyes crinkling up. “You call that a make-out? Get back here.”

He slipped his hand into Eric’s hair and pulled him into a longer, deeper, wetter kiss. Casper eased onto his back, lying flat on the roof, and pulled Eric down with him. Even though Casper was the one pinned to the rooftop, he took control of the kiss, flicking his tongue playfully and nibbling at Eric’s lips until he opened up.

Eric smoothed his left hand over Casper’s chest and stomach, reveling in the firmness of the muscled body beneath him. Casper was young, gorgeous and incredibly fit. Way out of Eric’s league. But for some crazy reason, Casper liked him.

About The Author

DJ Jamison worked in newsrooms for more than 10 years, which helped tremendously when she began her series centered on The Ashe Sentinel, a fictional small-town newspaper in Kansas. She lives in the Midwest with her husband, two sons and three glow-in-the-dark fish.

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Review: Torin by Lance Withton

Torin’s anxiety has made it difficult for him to navigate romantic relationships, so instead of trying, he keeps himself occupied with his work. But just because he doesn’t chase relationships doesn’t mean he doesn’t want something, even if he has to get it with a dash of taboo.

At Pillar, the only all-male brothel in the city, Torin makes an appointment with a charming sex worker who goes by the name “Davies.” It becomes hard for Torin to keep his emotions out of the intimacy, and his feelings become more complicated when a designer he works with starts to let on that his interest is more than platonic.

Shy guys are my kryptonite.

This story starts with Torin booking time at a brothel to do some kissing. We aren't told why he's made this decision within the pages, and it doesn't really matter overall. Torin has some deep insecurities, is shy, awkward, and stammers most of the time. He is sweet and endearing as a character. He has clearly been brought up with very conservative beliefs, although the particulars are not explained. It's just there in some of his internal thoughts. None of that matters when he is spending time with Davies.

The story is told from Torin’s point of view so we don’t get to know Davies outside of his role in Torin’s sexual adventures. Even so, he isn’t flat, and his personality for the role he is in is pretty clear. He’s sexy, considerate, and very good at his job. There was nothing I didn’t like about Davies, and he was captivating enough for me to want to know him outside of the context he was in.

For a short story this worked really well. While the timeline jumped from one encounter to the next, I didn’t feel like I was missing anything. I enjoyed going on this journey with Torin, and reading him learn about his sexual self. His awakening was smutty and lovely. There is some light humiliation kink interwoven with some high level heat. There is no mistaking that this is erotica, good erotica. I loved all of the scenes, and I could have happily continued to read more. Torin turned out to be a dirty, dirty boy.

There are some issues I had with the language used towards Davies. I felt like the story was supposed to be sex positive but was slightly contradictory. It was off-putting, and that’s why it doesn’t rate as high for me as if that specific confusion wasn’t in there. Some people may find it sexy and edgy, but it didn’t reach me in that way. Overall I really enjoyed this story though. The author had a very clear idea of what this was about, and delivered it well.

If you’re looking for something short that doesn’t feel bite sized, with some high heat erotica, this is the story for you.

I received a review copy for an honest review.

Audiobook Review: The Ghost Slept Over by Marshall Thornton

When failed actor Cal Parsons travels to rural New York to claim the estate of his famous and estranged ex-partner, he discovers something he wasn't expecting...the ghost of his ex! And worse, his ex invites Cal to join him for all eternity.

As Cal attempts to rid himself of the ghost by any means, he begins to fall for the attractive attorney representing the estate. Will Cal be able to begin a new relationship or will he be seduced into the ever after?

Listening Length: 6 hours and 13 minutes
Narrator: Jason Frazier

Hi. *waves*

It’s me in my corner. Again. In my box of shame.

Full disclosure. I’m not one who usually likes ghost stories, but the chance at listening to an audio and a Marshall Thornton one at that, I was hopeful this would change my mind. It didn’t.

Basically this is about Cal, a non-working actor scraping by but just barely. Luck is on his side when he confoundingly inherits the estate of his very rich ex whom he hasn’t seen in 15 years. As Cal arrives in the small town where his inheritance is located, he just wants to quickly liquidate things and move on. However, his dead ex Mac won’t let him do so easily, and Cal unknowingly gets pulled into an extended stay due to the machinations of the town’s small theatre group who're desperate to gain some extensive funding from him. In and amongst these happenings, Cal finds himself getting more and more romantically entangled with lawyer Dewey, who is happy to help him navigate and manage his new assets.

So….. I apparently am not the target audience for such, and apparently my sense of humor switch was not turned on either. The reason why I often scoff at ghosts is because I tire of shenanigans where the MC is trying to look sane while fending off a jealous, malicious, annoying spirit who just won’t let sleeping dogs lie. The farcical moments of everyone not being able to see said ghost, except the one person it’s “haunting”, can be a bit much. However, many many readers thought this funny and quirky so don’t mind me in my corner. I just found the greedy townsfolk bent on getting Cal’s money and the selfish reasons for why Mac wanted him so badly, overshadowed the romance brewing between Cal and Dewey, and it was quite frustrating.

You can’t win ‘em all right?

Narrated by Jason Frazier, I liken him to a more subdued Joel Leslie which may work for some and not for others. However, his very distinctive cadence and rhythm took some getting used to and I never quite warmed up to him, despite his enthusiastic interpretation and great voice distinction.

I so wanted to like this hard. I won’t say never to another ghost story, but I think for now, I’ll just stick to Thornton’s mysteries instead.

Thanks to the author/publisher for the audio in exchange for an honest review.

Release Blitz: Nobody's Prince Charming (Road to Blissville #3) by Aimee Nicole Walker

Nobody's Prince Charming is released! Celebrate with author Aimee Nicole Walker and Vibrant Promotions! Learn more about the contemporary romance today!

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RELEASE DATE: 03.23.18
Nobodys Prince Charming Cover
Fire and ice. Oil and water. Vodka and decisions. That’s what Darren McCoy and Wren Davison are: two opposites that shouldn’t mix well. Dare believes in fairy tales, true love, and happily ever after. Wren believes in fast cars, freedom, and no-strings sex. What can these two men possibly have in common? A magnetic pull strong enough to obliterate logic and reason.
For more than a year, Dare and Wren have worked together at the Curl Up and Dye Salon. Dare has pursued the mysterious, brooding man, and Wren has resisted his provocative charm. Then one day, something happens that allows the men to see each other in a new light. Wren learns that Dare hides a heavy heart behind his brilliant smile. Dare realizes that beneath Wren’s gruff exterior beats the heart of a prince.
Passions ignite once the men stop fighting their attraction, but will it be enough to overcome their differences? Is Wren the prince that Dare is looking for? Can Dare teach Wren that true love does exist?
Nobody’s Prince charming is a modern-day fairy tale where some princes ride Harleys, and castle walls are built to scale. It is the third book in the Road to Blissville series but can be read as a standalone book. This book contains sexually explicit material and is intended for adults eighteen and over.
Nobody's Prince Charming Teaser 1

When I returned to the kitchenette, Dare looked as if he were afraid to believe in me. I wondered if maybe our backgrounds weren’t that different after all.

“I just want you to know that I will not be upset if you change your mind, Wren.” It was cute the way he tried to put me at ease.

“Dare, there’s something you need to know about me.” He nodded eagerly, biting his lip nervously as he waited. “Rule number five: I never say things I don’t mean, and I don’t do things I don’t want to do.”

“That’s two different things,” Dare said. “That should be rules five and six.”

“They mean similar things, so they share a rule.”

“Saying and doing aren’t even close to the same thing,” Dare argued. “It would make sense if it was: say what you mean and mean what you say. They could share a rule.”

“They’re my rules, and I’ll categorize them as I see fit.”

“Well,” Dare said huffily. Then he tipped his head to the side and studied me speculatively. “I’ll let it drop if you tell me your first four rules. Not gonna lie, I kind of want to see if I can make you break them.”

“Not a chance,” I declared. His look said we’ll just see about that.

Aimee Logo
I am a wife and mother to three kids, three dogs, and a cat. When I’m not dreaming up stories, I like to lose myself in a good book, cook or bake. I’m a girly tomboy who paints her fingernails while watching sports and yelling at the referees. I will always choose the book over the movie. I believe in happily-ever- after. Love inspires everything that I do. Music keeps me sane.

Blog Tour: Staggered Cove Station (Coast Guard Rescue #1) by Elle Brownlee

Elle Brownlee is here today to tell us a little about Staggered Cove Station, her latest Dreamspun Desires release! See our 5 <3 review HERE!

Be sure to check out the vid too!

Hello, hello! I'm Elle Brownlee and it's great to be here to share something about my latest book with you. Staggered Cove Station is a romantic suspense with hunky Coast Guard heroes, and I couldn't be happier about that.

I've been wanting to write something with more action and suspense for a while, but couldn't ever settle on a world to build such a story in. I wanted cop-like but not actually cops, I wanted the great outdoors to be more than a backdrop but didn't want to shoehorn it in, I wanted team dynamics but not sports or game fisherman or SEALs. Just nothing I thought of was quite clicking or sticking. And then came a quilt project I had to finish in a hurry (stay with me--these relate!).

To keep me company as I cut and pieced and sewed, I searched for a show with a lot of episodes that could play for hours. I happened on a Coast Guard reality show, was pleased to note had several seasons for me to catch up with, and was immediately hooked. It combined so much of what keeps my interest, from nature in all her savage glory to daring actions, from stroking my competence kink to letting me learn cool new stuff, from a culture of procedure to that camaraderie of close-knit team members giving each other the business between rescues.

As I watched and built that quilt, I also started building a world where my stories with more action and suspense could take form. My plot ideas had found inspiration and a fitting home! Everything started clicking and sticking. And the first of these is Staggered Cove Station.

And hooray! I found this sizzle reel for the show so you can get a little taste for yourself:

Hope you enjoy the inspiration vid--and the read!
❤ elle

PS: I finished the quilt in time, and it looked great and made its recipient very happy and cozy.

Staggered Cove Station is book one in my new Coast Guard Rescue romantic suspense series. There’s thrills, chills, mystery, and hunky guys to the rescue. It releases March 20 from Dreamspinner Press.


Rescues are wild in the Alaskan terrain. So is romance.

Sun-kissed California guardsman Dan Farnsworth might be at home in the water, but he’s out of his element at remote, rugged, and freezing Staggered Cove Station. Acclimating proves hard enough, but he’s also digging into how the station’s previous rescue swimmer was lost at sea. Was it an operation gone bad... or something more sinister? Add to that instant tension between him and his partner, no-nonsense Alaska-born Karl Radin, and Dan has his hands full.

As his investigation heats up, so does the attraction between Dan and Karl—even if they don’t completely trust each other. But as suspicious events escalate to sabotage, Dan starts to fear he and Karl won’t get the chance to become more than reluctant coworkers.

Book URL:

Dreamspinner Press

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Author Bio:

Elle Brownlee has always followed her creative, adventuring spirit. Growing up she loved westerns and taking long hikes. On these explorations she’d craft miniature worlds with moss and rocks while making up stories about everything that happened there. This often included dashing cowboy heroes. As an adult, not a lot has changed. She still loves westerns, long hikes, and allowing her imagination to roam. Usually with a pot of tea at her elbow. Her romances feature flawed but relatable characters in immersive settings, told with wit, tenderness, and a sly note of sarcasm. Though a cynic in many ways, Elle believes love can conquer all. Every story is a little bit naughty, a whole lot of nice, and will always end with happily ever after.

Review: Mage of Inconvenience by Parker Foye

Can they find the magic in a practical union?

West is on the run from his werewolf pack, but if he cannot renew his magical defenses, he won’t get far. What he needs is a mage….

Julian is part of a wealthy and ancient family, and one day, his legacy will include his mother’s vast library of spell books—and the knowledge he needs to correct his past mistakes. But his inheritance comes with a stipulation: he has to be married before he can collect. What he needs is a husband….

West and Julian can help each other, and at first they don’t want anything further. But as they dodge meddling cousins, jealous rivals, and an insidious drug, it becomes clear that their lives are entwined in ways they never imagined—and they’re in greater danger than they thought possible.

New to me author Parker Foye just knocked my ginger socks off and knocked them off hard! I love a good marriage of convenience story but adding the paranormal aspect to make it a Mage of Inconvenience made this particular story amazing.

Yup, Red is gonna go on a ramble folks.

The clause states you’ll only inherit if you’re in a, and I quote, ‘stable relationship or magical bond, as demonstrated to both mundane and magical administration, by the end of the year in which this will is read’ end quote.
We meet West as he is finishing his day of work at the diner and preparing for his walk home. Through West’s thoughts, we know he is a meta wolf or lycan as his pack likes to call themselves and that West has left his pack. On his way home, he comes across a small group of young wolves acting strangely and it’s here that we are told about the magical drug running rapid through wolves called Rabid. It’s a fitting name for what it does to those affected and West does what he needs to do, makes an anonymous call to the Metaschemata Law of Ontario to let them know the drug has infected their territory. Trust me, knowing about Rabid is important, okay? Anyway, once at home in the mage spelled and protected cabin West came upon and is now basically squatting in, someone has breached the spells that are becoming weak and West, he needs a powerful and trustworthy mage to renew the protection spells.

Mage Julian Colquhoun comes highly recommend to West from his childhood friend and West sets out to ask the mage for help. But Julian, he has his own agenda when he meets West and it involves finding someone to marry so he can inherit what his late mother has left him. There is one minor problem; Julian needs to find someone who wants to not only be in a fake marriage but stick around for six months and be able to fake a magical bond that will pass an investigation from the Mage Alliance Administration. To quote poet G. K. Chesterton; “I do not believe in a fate that falls on men however they act; but I do believe in a fate that falls on them unless they act.” And fate has fallen in the laps of Julian and West who once presented the option of helping Julian and getting his protection spells renewed in turn, makes his decision.

I adored West and Julian so damn much. There is instant chemistry between the men though they know nothing about one another. West doesn’t know why the marking he shows Julian affect him so deeply and Julian doesn’t know what form of meta West is. Julian doesn’t know that West has been studying Metaschemata History and West doesn’t know the magic and side jobs that Julian holds and what is in his past. Julian doesn’t know what pack West belonged to and West doesn’t know that his pack name haunts Julian. Yeah, a few secrets between two men who just met but the truth comes out. Eventually.

It was so much fun watching these two get to know one another. What I am finding with the Dreamspun line of late is the stories are taking on the form of true romantic categorical and giving us the slow burn romance to the story and not over sexing it. I know some readers need that on page sex but for me, getting to know the characters and watching them develop intimate attachments gives me more of a swoony feeling than them falling into bed immediately. There is something so romantic about watching two humans find common interest and in this story, not only fall in love but form a magical bond that makes them physically ache… yeah, I’ll take that over magic penises any day.

Now, let me jump off my soapbox and get back to the story.
Was he using West?
He had used West, certainly.
As West had used him.
But going forward, they’d walk side by side.
These two were delicious. They are both so open and yet guarded at the same time wondering what they have gotten themselves into and are they going into this fake marriage for the right reasons. I don’t think it mattered once they started to have feelings for one another, or really after Julian took those gorgeous shots of West on the yacht, but once danger comes their way again, they have to lay everything the table and get the truth out, the story got even better.

West, is such an amazing young man and wolf. It took guts to leave his pack the way he did with nothing and try to make a new life for himself. His brother is an ass and addicted to Rabid and trying to create a true traditionalist lycan pack and has skeletons in his closet that shocked me when I found out the story behind the magical drug. But West, he knows that Julian is someone that can be trusted to protect him and his heart and when he realizes he knows Julian in another way, I was so damn happy.

Julian is a fantastic character. I loved learning what he could do as a mage and the power and following his mother had as well. Her clause in her will for Julian to find a magical bond proves that even in death, a mother knows what is best and I still think that in some way, she brought Julian and West together.

But really, the romance between West and Julian made me all swoony and happy that I was invested in them from the beginning. They take some time to accept they are more than just a convenience and good lord that first kiss turned me into goo and goo is so good. The players of Julian’s greedy cousins, and West’s Rabid addicted family adds to the story to make it fun and push these two further into acknowledging their bond but West and Julian… this is a couple driven story and I am so in love with it.

That end… so good. I loved how Julian was so Julian being engrossed in what he’s been given and West still being wide eyed and awed at Julian’s magic.

So good. Just. So good.

Don't miss today's Mage of Inconvenience author visit HERE!

Review: In the Shadows (Metahuman Files #3) by Hailey Turner

Take a chance.

Staff Sergeant Alexei Dvorkin doesn’t trust easily, and he most certainly doesn’t trust spies. He’ll work with them if ordered to, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. Except Agent Sean Delaney is proving to be the exception to the rule. There’s something about Sean that gets under Alexei’s skin and won’t let go. Alexei would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in what lay beneath the agent’s mask. When they’re assigned together for a mission, Alexei vows to keep Sean safe all while trying to coax the hot agent into his bed.

Hold onto hope.

Agent Sean Delaney has spent his entire adult life living a lie for his country. When the MDF tasks him with finding evidence of criminal wrong-doing against the owner of a private military company, Sean knows exactly how to play the game to get what he wants. He just doesn’t know how to handle Alexei’s advances, nor his own attraction to the younger soldier. Being a spy is lonely work, and Sean knows he should keep his distance, but saying no to Alexei is impossible from the moment they first kiss.

In a world of lies, the truth can be deadly.

When the mission takes a turn for the worse, the only thing left to do is run. In the wake of betrayal, and in the path of danger, can their fragile trust survive the battle?

In the Shadows is a 104k word steamy gay sci-fi military romance with a HFN ending that skirts HEA. There is military violence within the story that may not be suitable for everyone, as well as explicit intimate scenes not suitable for readers under the age of 18. This is a direct sequel to In the Ruins and reading the previous books in the series would be helpful in enjoying this one.

I have to get this off my chest. WHEN ARE THEY GONNA GET THE BADDIES?!?!?!??!?!

Well, I feel better now.

I tip my hat to you, Hailey Turner.

You're playing the long game with these elusive baddies. I'll play along for two reasons: (a) I like these people and (b) this series is full of action-packed goodness.

In the Shadows is focused on Alexei and former CIA agent Sean. They had some *eyeballs* happening in the prior book and here is where Alexei makes his move.

Alexei is hot in more than one sense of the word. He's a pyrokinetic and Russian and possessive: A Trifecta! He's also kinda grumpy and oozes confidence, so I am officially #TeamAlexei at this point.

Sean is slightly older and very focused on his job which has been detrimental to his love life. I like that Turner flipped the script making the older character the less experienced of the two. Sean's sweetly bashful and self-conscious. But he cannot deny the powerful attraction simmering between he and Alexei when they get paired up on a mission as "fake" boyfriends. We all know how that goes.

I wouldn't say they have more chemistry than Jaime and Kyle but how much Sean turns Alexei's crank and how verbal he is about that did it for me. That second sex scene when he had Sean sit on his face also did it for me. Muchly.

Another thing I really like is this team. This is actually one of those series that I wish would spin into MF or MMF or something because Katie, Madison and Annabelle are badasses. Turner writes women well. All of them are strong, smart, funny and levelheaded in a pickle, so when Kyle and Alexei's former commander showed up to assist in one of the missions and started making googoo eyes at Katie I got a little sad knowing I'd never get to read their story.

Alright. End of the pity party of one.

There is much action, adventure, they all have cool ass powers and many things get blown the fuck up, so if you are a fan of your romance being action packed this book and this series are for you! Much more spycraft is present in this one which made the plot complex but not convoluted. I suspect things are going to get even dicier as the series progresses.

So you win, Hailey Turner. I'm in for book 4. I sure hope some baddies are gotten in that one.

A review copy was provided.

Blog Tour: Mage of Inconvenience by Parker Foye

Parker Foye is here today to introduce us to their new Dreamspun Beyond title, Mage of Inconvenience. There's an excerpt too!

Don't miss our 5 <3 review HERE!

Hello, and thanks to Boy Meets Boy Reviews for hosting me today!

Though I'm more of a reformed pantser these days, I usually still make a few false starts when beginning a new story. Setting, character backgrounds, how our love interests first meet; the big picture tends to form as intended, but details take a bit of hammering out.  Sometimes diversions are great fun, and you learn a lot you didn't know about characters, but sometimes I meander wildly off course. As a result, I tend to have a few skeleton drafts loitering in the annals of My Documents.

When I was thinking about this post, I dredged the archives for an early draft of MAGE OF INCONVENIENCE to share—but there's nothing there. From first draft to completion, the story took shape as I first imagined it (except the final version is much, much better, thanks to beta readers and Dreamspinner's editing team!). There's definitely something special about this one for me.

With the idea of executing plans in mind, the extract I've chosen to share is from the first part of the book, where West and Julian (Colquhoun, here, in West's POV) are learning to live with each other. Julian has made it his mission to build their backstory, and West is swept up in the scheme by Julian's exuberant personality.

Why this scene? Well, the same way as this story took shape right out of the gate, so too does West and Julian's partnership. Even when—especially when—they both still think they're faking it.

I hope you enjoy this snippet, and the rest of the book!

Colquhoun beckoned West over to look at photographs on his tablet. There were more than West remembered being taken, more than he’d ever seen of himself. He itched with discomfort as he took a seat at the table, picking at a slice of toast. Though he couldn’t see it in the morning sky, the moon pressed on him, brooding with fullness.
“All of these already?”
Colquhoun nodded, scrolling through the images. “We need some of both of us, though. And not just selfies. But that’s a good place to start. Come here,” he said, moving until their shoulders touched. He opened the camera and stretched out his arm with the tablet, angling to position them both in the frame. “Pretend you’re in love!”
West rolled his eyes but did as ordered, trying to imagine what it would be like to be in love with Colquhoun. If they’d met at the diner, and they’d grown to know each other, and maybe one day West had dared to ask him out. He felt himself smile at the idea. Joe would tease them both forever.
“Like that. Perfect.”
No one in the pack had seen the need for photographs. They’d lived and worked in one another’s pockets, each day unfolding enough like the one before that no one needed document one from many. Or at least that’s what he’d thought. West had started to take photographs of sunrises and sunsets after buying his phone, with Joe’s help, and each of those seemed different from the last. Each one more beautiful. He had one picture of Joe, taken in the kitchen. One of the diner. His cabin. But he had none of the home he’d left. None of his family, for whatever that would’ve been worth.
West had never seen a photograph of himself until Colquhoun’s enthusiasms. He wasn’t certain the man on Colquhoun’s tablet, looking at the camera with such a soft expression, could be him. It barely seemed possible.

Can they find the magic in a practical union?

West is on the run from his werewolf pack, but if he cannot renew his magical defenses, he won’t get far. What he needs is a mage….

Julian is part of a wealthy and ancient family, and one day, his legacy will include his mother’s vast library of spell books—and the knowledge he needs to correct his past mistakes. But his inheritance comes with a stipulation: he has to be married before he can collect. What he needs is a husband….

West and Julian can help each other, and at first they don’t want anything further. But as they dodge meddling cousins, jealous rivals, and an insidious drug, it becomes clear that their lives are entwined in ways they never imagined—and they’re in greater danger than they thought possible.

Buy the book at Dreamspinner | Amazon CA/COM/UK | Kobo | Barnes & Noble

About the Author: Parker Foye writes speculative-flavored romance under the QUILTBAG umbrella and believes in happily ever after, although sometimes their characters make achieving this difficult.

An education in Classics nurtured a love of heroes, swords, monsters, and beautiful people doing stupid things while wearing only scraps of leather. You'll find those things in various guises in Parker's stories, along with kissing (very important) and explosions (very messy). And more shifters than you can shake a stick at.

Used to living out of a suitcase, Parker is currently of fixed abode in the UK but still travels regularly via planes, trains, and an ever-growing library.

Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Moth and Moon by Glenn Quigley

Discover new historical alternate universe release, The Moth and Moon, today! Celebrate with debut author Glenn Quigley and IndiGo Marketing! Enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title:  The Moth and Moon
Author: Glenn Quigley
Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: March 19, 2018
Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 63000
Genre: Alternate Universe, Historical, LGBT, historical, gay, friends to lovers, sailor, baker, pirates, family drama

Add to Goodreads


In the summer of 1780, on the tiny island of Merryapple, burly fisherman Robin Shipp lives a simple, quiet life in a bustling harbour town where most of the residents dislike him due to the actions of his father. With a hurricane approaching, he nonetheless convinces the villagers to take shelter in the one place big enough to hold them all—the ancient, labyrinthine tavern named the Moth & Moon.

While trapped with his neighbours during the raging storm, Robin inadvertently confronts more than the weather, and the results could change everything.


The Moth and Moon
Glenn Quigley © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Mr. Robin Shipp pulled his cap lower as he took a deep breath of salty morning air and watched the sun emerge from behind the headland. Stepping from the pier into his little boat, he ran his heavy hand across the prow, catching his coarse fingers on the loose, chipped paintwork. He picked a jagged flake off the wooden frame and held it up to the light, the vivid scarlet catching the pinks and oranges of daybreak. He let go and it drifted through the air, carried away on the gentle breeze, before settling on the soft, lapping tide. Most of the paintwork was in some state of distress. Deep cracks marbled the entire hull, belying the fisherman’s profound affection for his vessel. Bucca’s Call had seen better days.

“I’ll paint you tomorrow, Bucca, I promise,” he said.

He made this very same promise every morning, but every day, he found some reason to put it off. Before too long, he was humming to himself and hauling his well-worn oyster dredge over the stern of Bucca’s Call.

“Beautiful!” he said as he emptied the net into a nearby tub. The shells clattered against one another as they fell. The boat bobbed about gently on the waves while gulls screeched and circled overhead. Her nameplate was missing a couple of letters and her white sails were truthfully more of a grimy beige these days, but she was as reliable as ever.

He was close to the shore and could see the whole bay—from the headland to the east, down to the harbour, past the pale blue-and-white-striped lighthouse that sat out at sea on its desolate little clump of rocks and scrub, and over to the beautiful sandy beach curving around and out of sight to the west.

The little fishing village of Blashy Cove sloped up the hills beyond the harbour, and with his gaze, he traced the low, stone walls lining each cobbled road. It was the only significant settlement on the tiny island of Merryapple, the southernmost point of a little cluster of islands nestled off the Cornish coast. The village had everything one would expect to find, except a place of worship. No lofty cathedral had ever been built there, no church of granite and glass, not even the smallest wooden chapel. When the empire of the Romans had fallen a thousand years earlier, its church had fallen alongside it. The invaders hadn’t lingered long on the mainland, and had never set foot on these islands. Once they were gone, the people picked through the remains, seeing the value in certain aspects and thoroughly disregarding the rest, scouring the regime clean from the face the world and consigning it meekly to the tomes of scholars and students. In its absence, the old gods returned to their forests and deserts, their mountains and streams, their homes and hearths. Spirits of air and land and sea. Woden and Frig, The Wild Hunt and the Bucca, piskies and mermaids, the Green Man and the wights, all were changed, made kinder and gentler by their brief exile. On these islands, the old ways had been the only ways, but even these had mostly died out, sloping into traditions, superstitions, and habits. It was now August in the year 1780, and people believed in themselves.

At this time of morning, sunlight hit the brightly painted houses and sparkled on the gentle, rolling waves. The village’s livelihood mainly revolved around the sea, but there was more to life than just luggers and lines and lobster pots. The Cove had long been a haven to those of a more creative bent. Painters and sculptors, engineers and inventors, they all found their home there. Some of them had come from the nearby Blackrabbit Island, which wasn’t known for its love of the finer arts. This abundance of skill, and the nurturing of it, meant Blashy Cove had adopted some innovations not yet common in the rest of the world.

Robin had been out for some time by now and, as usual, had already eaten his packed lunch. Soon, his substantial belly rumbled and he decided it was time to head back to port. Packing away his nets, he heaved in his empty lobster pots, secured the tub filled with this morning’s catch, and sailed the small craft homeward. As he did, he noticed a thin, grey line on the horizon.

“Looks like some bad weather on the way, Bucca,” he muttered to the little boat.

The stern of the curious little craft sat low in the water, due equally to the weight of the morning’s catch and the significant heft of Robin himself. While at first it appeared to be a traditional lugger, the kind of boat used by most fishermen in this part of the world, Bucca’s Call was actually much smaller and faster, a one-of-a-kind built many years previously.

Huge ships from the mainland drifted past, their enormous sails billowing in the breeze. Merryapple was part of a small group of southerly islands, and the last sight of land some of the mighty vessels would see for weeks, or even months.

Merryapple Pier was the oldest one anybody knew of. The brainstorm of a local fisherman many years earlier and copied by many other villages since, it might well have been the first of its kind. This clever fisherman realised if there was a way for larger boats to offload their cargo directly, rather than having to put it onto smaller vessels to ferry back and forth between harbour and ship, it would increase the traffic through the little port. The pier stretched out past the shallower waters near the coastline. Little sailboats like Bucca’s Call could dock right up close to the beach or even on the sand, if need be, while bigger fishing vessels could use the far end, in deeper waters. The pier was constructed from huge boulders hewn from the island’s cliff face and supported by a framework of long wooden poles from the woodlands. In the evening, bigger boats from the village fleet usually dropped anchor in the bay, while smaller vessels stayed moored to the pier.

At the shore, some children were chasing each other around a pile of crab pots, hooting and hollering while May Bell finished her deliveries for the bakery. May was around the same age as the other children, but she was of a more industrious bent. She saw Bucca’s Call approaching and ran to help Robin secure his mooring line as he lugged the tub of oysters onto the pier. When he clambered up the weathered stone steps, he steadied himself with a hand against the wall. The steps were wet and slippery, with dark green mould threatening to envelope his heavy boots should he linger too long.

“Morning, Mr. Shipp,” the girl called as she finished tying the worn rope around an old, pitted stone bitt.

“Mornin’, May! Thanks for your ’elp,” he called back, waving to the girl as he lumbered past. Taller than any man on the island, he dwarfed the little girl, drowning her in his shadow.

“Time for food already?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” replied Robin, “an’ I know just the place to get some!”

His legs were stiff from sitting in the boat all morning. He knew he was supposed to get up and move around a bit every once in a while, but when he was out on the water, the chatter of the gulls, the lap of the waves, the smell of the sea air, it was all so relaxing he just didn’t notice the time going by. Only his stomach growls marked the hours.

Mrs. Greenaway, wife of the village doctor and a friend of May’s parents, happened to be passing by on her way home from the market. Seeing their exchange, she scrunched up her face, adjusted the bow on her bonnet, and seized the little girl by the arm, leading her away from the pier and avoiding Robin’s disappointed gaze. He knew May from the bakery, as the master baker was one of his very few friends, but it wasn’t uncommon for people to avoid him.

Robin heaved the awkward tub full of oysters up and marched towards the bustling market, which was a collection of simple wooden stalls selling everything from food to clothes to ornaments. He edged his way through the crowd, past various stallholders and shoppers as he struggled with the heavy container. Finally, he reached the largest stall, which sold all manner of fresh seafood, all caught in that very cove. Robin specialised in inshore fishing, whereas the other boats concentrated their efforts farther out to sea. He was one of only two oyster fishermen in the village. The other, Mr. Hirst, was ill and hadn’t been out in his craft for almost two weeks. He was married, with a young family to feed, and the village had rallied around to help and make sure they didn’t go hungry. The lack of competition, however, meant Robin was securing a bumper crop.

A tall, thin man in a white coat was scribbling notes onto a wad of yellow paper. In front of him lay a collection of various local fish, in everything from buckets to barrels to battered old copper pots.

“Got a nice batch for you this mornin’, Mr. Blackwall.” Robin beamed, holding up the tub so the fishmonger could get a good look.

“Yes, these will do fine, I suppose, Mr. Shipp. Put them down at the front.” Mr. Blackwall was notorious for not getting too hands-on with the product or with much of anything, really. He kept his distance from the beach and fairly resented having to be even this close. Wet sand upset him greatly, as it had a tendency to cling to his shiny boots and sometimes it even marked his pristine coat. He didn’t do any of the actual work with the fish, instead leaving it to his assistants. He’d often said he didn’t see the point of having a stall at all when he had a perfectly good shop on Hill Road. But the market was a tradition in Blashy Cove, and so he had no choice but to participate or lose out. He jotted some numbers down on his paper and then chewed the end of his pencil as he tried to add them up. He always did this, and he never did it quickly. Robin stooped and laid the tub on the ground as instructed, grunting as he straightened.

“Joints sore again?” the fishmonger asked out of sheer politeness, not looking up from his calculations.

“No more’n usual,” Robin replied, rubbing the small of his back and rotating his shoulder. Working the sea wasn’t easy, and it had taken its toll over the years.

Ben Blackwall reached into his inside pocket and produced a fistful of polished coins, which he delivered into Robin’s large, callused hands. Robin nodded appreciatively and stuffed them into the pockets of his calf-length, navy-coloured overcoat. Tipping his floppy, well-worn cap to his long-time buyer, he turned and headed away from the dock.

He passed by other villagers going about their morning routine and jumped out of the way of a horse and cart loaded with apples from the orchard over the hills as he headed straight for the immense building dead ahead. It was a massive, ungainly lump, set in the centre of a spacious courtyard, all crooked wooden beams and slanting lead-paned windows. Every now and then, a shabby bay window or wonky dormer jutted out at funny angles. It was hard to tell exactly how many floors it had. Five, at least, the topmost of which sat like a box that had been dropped from a great height onto the rest of the structure. Rumpled, uneven, and crooked, this odd addition had one large, circular window on each of its four walls. On the ground outside, wooden tables and chairs were arranged, and heavy planters overflowed with hardy, perennial shrubbery. A couple of fat seagulls noisily argued over a few crumbs dropped near the windbreakers. This pair were here so often, they seemed to be part of the building itself. The locals named them Captain Tom and the Admiral. Captain Tom was the leader of a particularly noisy and troublesome band of gulls, and the Admiral was his main rival. They would often fight over even the tiniest scraps left on the ground, and both were marked with more than one battle scar.

As he pulled on the heavy oak door, the sign hanging overhead creaked and groaned in the wind. Painted on chestnut from the nearby wood, the bulk of the sign was older than the village itself, but it had been modified many times. Formed of several expertly carved layers, it now looked more like a child’s pop-up book rather than the simple plank of wood it had once been. The overall effect was of peering through a forest, out over the cove at night. The outermost tier resembled a ring of tree branches, gently moving up and down. Behind that layer were the turbulent waves, which clicked from side to side. Finally, there was the static crescent moon with a single cerulean moth flying slowly around, completing one revolution every hour. The whole sign ticked and whirred endlessly as its springs and cogs went about their work, and had to be wound up twice a day using a long, metal key kept tucked behind the tavern’s main door. The name of the establishment was weaved around and through the artwork in gold.

This wasn’t simply a place to drink or gather with friends; it was a place to conduct business, a place where people married, and a place where people mourned. It was a refuge from bad weather and jilted lovers. This was the heart and soul of the little village.

This was the Moth & Moon.


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Meet the Author

Glenn Quigley is a graphic designer originally from Dublin and now living in Lisburn, Northern Ireland. He creates bear designs for He has been interested in writing since he was a child, as essay writing was the one and only thing he was ever any good at in school. When not writing or designing, he enjoys photography and has recently taken up watercolour painting.

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